Free A Beautiful Truth by Colin McAdam Page B

one side while he sat up on a stool and painted on the other. He regularly came around to her side and made his noise for I like this. Sometimes she imagined she could see real shapes in his paintings. Maybe that was possible. When she looked at pictures or puzzles with him and said where’s the tree, where’s the cat, which one’s the front-end loader, he always got it right. He recognized representations, he just couldn’t create them. His hands were strong and capable, but not dexterous.
    She bought him a flip-top desk because she realized he could never go to school. She watched him sit and draw. He banged on the desk in the way he did to say that this is mine.
    He beat his hands on the living room floor, on the porch, on the lawn, to say that this is mine.
    He sat more still now when they drew, groomed her with more love when they looked at pictures and she explained the dimensions of her world.
    Looee was learning how to wash dishes in the sink when he was smaller and he slipped on the edge and fell in. Judy said sorry sorry sorry, hug hug hug, hugging herself before picking him up. And when she told Walt about it later, Looee overheard and hugged himself. It was one of those miracles of comprehension in tiny children that make all parents proud. He gets everything we say.
    Sorry, hug became the gesture of regret, the one that was made whenever someone did something wrong. When Looee got too rough with Murphy and heard Murphy whine or Walt shout ENOUGH, Looee hugged himself before hugging Murphy’s head. Or when he tore the stuffing out of the cushions in the living room and Judy turned her back and walked away saying I’m not talking to you today, Looee walked after her upright, hugging himself repeatedly until she knew he was truly sorry.
    It became a giveaway or sometimes a pre-emptive gesture. If Judy walked into the room and Looee was saying sorry, hug, she knew he had been up to something, that she would find a mess or something broken. Sometimes he would say sorry, hug before he did something wrong, knowing he would get in trouble but doing it anyway. On those occasions she was less convinced by his contrition.
    The day after Mr. Wiley brought him home and Walt and Judy were mad at him, Looee sat in his room waiting for Judy to come and see him.
    He stared at the wall across from his bed. He didn’t want to be in trouble; he wanted to play chase with Murphy and go to the Wileys’ fridge. He wanted to be nice to Judy so she would be nice to him. When he heard footsteps near the door he hooted and hugged himself several times to say sorry, sorry, sorry, but no one opened the door. A long time passed and he played with things in his room. He drank the two beers he had hidden under his bed and felt relaxed.
    When Judy finally came in, feeling she had punished him enough, Looee was asleep next to the empty cans of beer.
    I’m not sure what he’s growing into she said to Walt later.

thirteen
    Visitors came to the window and Ghoul put urulek in his hand and threw it at the window, and the Fool came in. The Visitors were never Julie and now whenever he heard that sound
    Visitor.
    whenever he saw that picture light up

    he tried to hold the urulek-heat inside in case the Fool came in with his stick. He refused to work till he burned and burned.
    And one day he heard Visitor, and no one was at the window.
    He looked at Dave, and Dave looked nice today.
    Visitor.
    Ghoul got up on his chair and said
    ? Where
    And looked for the picture of Julie on the machine.
    Dave said
    Visitor behind-the-room.
    It was the day that Ghoul met Podo.
    Sitting on a chair behind-the-room with a long black stringhanging from his neck was young Podo, not yet known to Ghoul as Podo and not much bigger than Ghoul himself when he ate too much popcorn. He was sitting behind Dave with his back to the wall and the Fool was there also with his stick.
    Podo was staring at Ghoul and Ghoul could not look him in the eyes. He was wondering what the