Free Something Different by T. Baggins Page A

minerals."
    James saw Michael's eyes shine as he removed a foil-wrapped packet, but James pretended not to notice. The afternoon passed companionably without further mention. Around five o'clock, Michael took the tube back to Brixton. James sat up watching action movies and eating the rest of the Indian takeaway. He tried to have a wank, but not even fantasies about Kevin stoked his engine. He was too aware of his missing teeth, afraid of what Kev would think to see him this way. Finally James sorted through the streaming service until he located some porn. It was boy-girl, not his usual cup of tea, though the woman's tits were natural and quite nice. And the man, Mr. Horse Cock, was slim yet well muscled, with short hair and a slight beard...
    One of these days I'll fuck Michael blind. Give it to him like no one has. Make him glad to know me , James thought, surprised by his own randiness, and came in record time. Then he stretched out in his tiny new bedroom, closed the door, shot the bolt and fell into perfect dreamless sleep.
    ***
    James awakened around seven, not long before Michael turned up. They had breakfast in a café, then went grocery shopping.
    "It's weird, the things I can make sense of," James confided. "I know that sign says milk. I know that box says Frosted Flakes. I've seen them on telly so much, the pictures and the words, I get it. But give me a long sentence or a whole page and I lose the plot straight away."
    "I read up on dyslexia last night," Michael said, frowning at the meat section. "Can you cook?"
    "Sure. Mum taught me."
    "Then pick out whatever food you'll feel like cooking. Anyway, I'm not qualified to teach you. There are specific strategies for dyslexics. We need to hook you up with an adult literacy program. A certified tutor should help a lot."
    "I'd rather you do it," James sighed, weighing one package of minced beef against another.
    Michael shook his head. "James. You're not stupid. But you have a disorder and you'll get frustrated trying to overcome it. I'd rather you get frustrated with a stranger, take out your anger on him, then come home to me."
    As Michael worked on his survey of world religions textbook, James whipped up bangers and mash for lunch. When they sat down to eat, James was pleased to watch Michael savor every bite, then swoop in for seconds. Fit as he was, the man verged on too thin.
    While Michael resumed his work, James took the tube to the section of Wapping Michael had identified, following the drawing Michael provided. James found the Adult Learning Annex with no difficulty. Part of him suspected he'd be turned away within a week for stupidity. Part of him fantasized about becoming their most distinguished pupil, absorbing his remedial lessons in record time. Each idea was frightening in its own way. But in the end, James forced himself to enter, started by apologizing for his missing teeth, and let an intern assess his needs. He gave his details and was swiftly accepted. The program directors sent him home with several slim books, each individual page featuring several related photos and one or two words.
    "Figured they'd start me with Winnie-the-Pooh," James admitted to Michael. "But look." He opened a book to a photo of a large bottle of milk. Beneath it the word MILK was printed in capital letters.
    "Already know this one," James said, tapping a finger against his temple. "Ahead of the curve."
    "I'm proud of you."
    "Because I know the word milk?" James scoffed, wondering if Michael meant to take the mickey.
    "No. Because you went and signed up. When I was a boy, I never learned to swim. But when my kids were little, they kept begging me to take them to the pool. I finally had to sign up for an adult swim class." Michael smiled. "It was one of the hardest things I ever did. Giving up my dignity, flailing around and letting an instructor teach me something most kids do instinctively. The instructor told me adults usually give up after one lesson."
    "They told me