Jasmine listened intently whenever her teacher (Mr.) Paul spoke. She listened to the words as if she was anticipating each sound, as if he was gifting her.
As he gifted her it was also as if each of these utterances contained something valuable.
She sat up, shoulders grew higher as though each of these words, all the sounds that fell from his directions were the exact instructions she needed to proceed from what was feeling like a difficult dream.
It was not merely the words he spoke to her, it was a listening for answers and his under-the-breath talking to himself was included in his handing over ….
– of the code; this transfer was going to give her access to the greatest secrets of all time. At least she hoped.
It was a power Mr. Paul stood with, as if his voice, presence of physical being held the actual power to rescue young, still impressionable Jasmine.
She held viciously to a belief & hope that he could rescue her.
She leaned forward and often opened her eyes to signify that his spoken sounds, the orated syllables that drawled from his mouth, these words were often all she needed. They held something that words were void when most other adults spoke.
These points were game winning, clutch free throws that Jasmine needed ……. Desired, they were treasured assets to be coveted.
Jasmine loved when her teacher Mr. Paul spoke because she saw his speech as the key to what she had been search for. If nothing else she believed that he was granting her a way, a tool to find a new home, a family, a life that resembled something different from the one she was experiencing.
Jasmine felt impelled to eagerly focus on this ….she looked on with her most eager face, open posture and knew ….
She would….. she —
-had to listen.
“Jazz…. You’ve got it.
…
I know you do …. Write it down, all of it…. Whatever comes, put it on that paper.”
Philip Dane 