The Book Glasses Page 4

  Then she lay down on her bed and tried to figure out how she could read while wearing the glasses. The note referred to them as the book glasses. She had understood every word written by some pope in 1758, addressed to all future popes.

  She couldn’t believe she had understood it. It was incredible. She fell asleep thinking about it without even changing into her pyjamas or brushing her teeth.

  A Parcel

  Sam woke the next morning with a start as the sun peeked over the horizon.

  After a quick shower, she dressed and set off for her routine volunteering duties—serving breakfast at the refuge. She raced like the wind to arrive in the kitchen and have everything set up before the sisters got there but she was surprised to find Sister Sue barring her way, a rolling pin in one hand.

  “Oh no you don’t. You are not helping out today, young lady. Off you go back home and I don’t want to see you all week.” she said.

  “What are you going to do with that?” Sam asked and laughed.

  “You take another step in and I’ll show you what I’ll do with it. Now, go on, get out of here!” Sister Sue wasn’t joking. It was strange for Sam to see her like this.

  Disappointed she couldn’t help, she grabbed a few bananas and apples and a handful of grapes from the kitchen bench and turned around to head back home.

  When she arrived back at her apartment she went back to bed. She soon fell asleep, wondering what she would do with her free time.

  By the time the doorbell rang and woke her, it was almost lunchtime. She hurriedly jumped out of bed and opened the door. Disappointed to discover no one there, she noticed a parcel on the floor.

  After looking up and down the corridor, she picked it up and took it inside, making sure to lock the door behind her.

  She couldn’t read the address, so she ripped open the huge yellow envelope, reached in and pulled out a book. For a while, she just stared at it and then flipped through it, but there wasn’t a single picture or anything else to help her determine what it was about. She shoved the book back in the yellow envelope and threw it across the room in frustration.

  Nearly an hour later, as she was washing up her cup and plate after lunch, she decided to use the glasses to find out what the book was about. She dried her hands and retrieved the parcel and the book glasses and placed them in front of her on the kitchen table.

  With a deep breath, she pulled out the book, opened it and put on the glasses.

  It was like déjà vu. She could read!

  The parcel was addressed to her next-door neighbour and the book was called Principles of Administrative Law. It was the Second Edition by Peter Cane and Leighton McDonald, 15th July 2013.

  She turned it over and was able to read the text on the back cover effortlessly:

  This book provides a clear and concise account of the main principles of administrative law. More than that, it sets those principles in historical, comparative, and constitutional perspective. Principles of Administrative Law guides the reader through the complexities of the current law and provides an account of how it developed and where it might go in the years to come. This book tells not only what administrative law is but also what it is about. It explains as well as informs…

  Once she had read to the bottom of the page, she took off the glasses with disbelief and astonishment. Not only could she read the words, but she could also understand what they meant.

  After contemplating whether to take the textbook to her neighbours, she opened it and began reading from the start. One page turned into two, then ten and twenty. In twenty minutes, she was halfway through the four-hundred-page book.

  She took off the glasses, gently placed them on the table and paced around the apartment, trying to work out what had just happened. It wasn’t only the speed reading that shook her up, it was the fact she understood the contents and retained the knowledge. It was astonishing.

  Hungry for more, she sat down, put on the glasses again and picked up the book. Twenty minutes later, she had finished reading it and had verified it wasn’t a one-off incident—it was the book glasses.

  She returned the glasses to their case and put it back in its hiding spot. At a loss of what to do next, she decided to go for a walk. Walking was always helpful when she had something to figure out. Once she’d returned to her apartment after taking the law textbook next door, Sam changed her clothes and headed out of the building.

  She walked for many blocks. On her way home, with her new-found self-confidence, she located an automatic teller and did something she had never done before—withdrew money for herself. After taking out one hundred dollars, she carefully put it away and hurried home.

  Although excited about her achievement, things were no better for her once she was back in her apartment. She still did not know what to do about the book glasses.

  When she took the money out and placed it on the table, tears started streaming down her cheeks. They were a mixture of happy tears because she finally had some money of her own and proud tears as she had used an automatic teller by herself, but mostly sad tears as she mourned the loss of Joyce and Mr Harman, two people she barely knew.

  Then, with a new sense of excitement, she contemplated pushing things further with the book glasses to test their limits. There were no books in her apartment, so she ran over to the refuge and grabbed a handful from the library without anyone noticing.

  She tossed the books onto the kitchen table and retrieved the glasses. She put them on and started reading the titles and authors: Moby-Dick by Herman Melville; The Color Purple by Alice Walker; Schindler’s List by Thomas Keneally; Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen; Misery by Stephen King and Australian School’s Oxford Dictionary Fourth Edition.

  Awestruck that she could read each book’s title and author name, she dared herself to read them all.

  She picked up Moby-Dick and began to read. The speed at which she read was astonishing but what blew her away was how she understood the meaning of every word; somehow, she knew that even her pronunciation was faultless.

  Once she’d finished the last of the five books, she came up with an idea to further test the glasses.

  Starting with Moby-Dick, she selected six unusual words from the novel and wrote them down on a note pad. To her amazement, she then wrote out the definition of each word with ease; almost verbatim dictionary descriptions after checking.

  Vain—showing an excessively high opinion of one’s appearance, abilities or worth.

  Tribulation—a state of great trouble or suffering.

  Leviathan—monstrous sea creature symbolising evil in the Old Testament.

  Zephyr—a slight wind.

  Supplicate—ask for humbly or earnestly, as in prayer.

  Inexorable—impervious to pleas, persuasion, requests, reason.

  “How is this possible?” she asked the empty room and sat back in her chair, scratching her head.

  She took off the glasses and her dyslexia was back; she couldn’t even read the book covers, let alone understand the words on the pages.

  She donned the glasses and picked up The Color Purple, opened it and selected six more words.

  Crib—baby bed.

  Fornication—sexual intercourse between persons not married to each other.

  Pomade—hairdressing consisting of a perfumed oil or ointment.

  Primp—dress or groom with elaborate care.

  Strumpet—a woman adulterer.

  Sass—answer back in an impudent or insolent manner.

  After laying The Color Purple back on the table, she chose Schindler’s List and again selected some words.

  Genocide—the deliberate and total extermination of a culture.

  Ghetto—poor sections of cities.

  Gypsies—wandering people, originally from India.

  Holocaust—systematic and bureaucratic annihilation of millions of people.

  Resistance—acts of rebellion, sabotage and attempts to escape.

  Racism—The belief t
hat a racial group is inferior because of biological or cultural traits.

  She realised these were serious words and thought back over the story she had read about the Holocaust in which so many innocent people had died and how Schindler had worked to save the people on his list. Despite reading the book so quickly, she could recall the full story in great detail.

  From Pride and Prejudice, she selected another six words:

  Scrupulous—characterised by extreme care and great effort.

  Vex—disturb, especially by minor irritations.

  Supercilious—having or showing arrogant disdain or haughtiness.

  Impertinent—improperly forward or bold.

  Persevere—be persistent, refuse to stop.

  Indifference—the trait of remaining calm and seeming not to care.

  Sam studied the worn cover of Pride and Prejudice and imagined living the life of the story’s heroine, Elizabeth Bennet. How different would it have been to grow up in a big house in the country with a mother and father and sisters, and to wear fancy dresses like the woman on the cover and dance at balls with handsome gentlemen?

  After returning to the present day, she put the book down and selected half a dozen words from the last book, Misery.

  Carnivorous—relating to flesh-eating animals.

  Malevolence—wishing evil to others.

  Paradox—a statement that contradicts itself.

  Sinister—wicked, evil, or dishonourable.

  Deteriorate—become worse or disintegrate.

  Alter ego—a very close friend who seems almost a part of yourself.

  Once finished, Sam didn’t need to check to see if her answers were correct; she intuitively knew they were all one hundred percent accurate. The sudden ability to break down and understand complex words, words she previously would never have imagined, was effortless.

  Her experiment had worked, and she was thrilled beyond belief. For the first time in her life, she could read books. Dreaming of endless possibilities, she picked up all the books and cradled them in her arms, dancing around the apartment with them.

  She had triumphed over her disability. She had been given a gift from God and had accepted it with fortitude and gratefulness. Now, nothing could stop her from reading as many books as she could.

  Her stomach rumbled and she realised she had forgotten to eat. She stowed the books in a plastic bag and planned to drop them back at the refuge on her way to get something to eat at the local shops. The thought of daring to venture into the shops was exhilarating.

  After again hiding away the glasses, she scooped up the money from the kitchen table along with the bag of books and headed for the refuge.

  The Library

  Sam had always enjoyed walking in the dark, secure in her anonymity, with fewer people on the streets for her to avoid. She hated people looking at her, feeling they could somehow see she was stupid and couldn’t read.

  Not anymore, she told herself.

  This time she was overflowing with confidence. It skyrocketed as she realised she had strategised her route for maximum efficiency, unconsciously calculating times and distances, even taking into account weather conditions like wind velocity and humidity. Also, she was unusually aware of her surroundings.

  It was clear to her that the book glasses were responsible for her newfound good fortune and, with every discovery, it was more difficult for her to contemplate doing anything without them.

  The following morning, she woke with a start, feeling the need to prepare for her ten-day series of counselling sessions; a requirement before she could go back to work. After her morning muesli, she took off to the library to research what to expect.

  On her arrival, the woman at the front desk asked for her name and contact details before allowing her to borrow a book, so she slipped on the book glasses and proudly filled in her details on the woman’s iPad. Her confidence glowed brighter than the sun.

  Then she located the counselling section and selected the first book she found: Controlling Stress and Tension by Daniel Girdano, Dorothy E Dusel and George S Everly Jr.

  Settled in an armchair in the middle of the library in front of everyone, Sam read the book from cover to cover. Her fear and self-consciousness evaporated, and her defences were demolished. It was liberating. The book helped her to understand her feelings and taught her strategies to keep stress and tension in check and better cope with the death of Mr Harman. She was now ready to discuss the incident with a counsellor.

  But there was one thing she would not mention.

  As she put the book back on the shelf, she scanned the others. There were so many and so much to know. But she wouldn’t need to visit the library every day to access information if she had a computer.

  Excited about the endless possibilities she could discover over the internet, she strode out of the Sydney City Library. Her excitement grew at the thought of the adventures in learning ahead of her, both online and via physical books. She felt free from limitations and ready to move forward into the future. The library had always represented the future for Sam and she truly believed she had an exciting one ahead.

  Remembrance

  Sister Sue looked around the refuge’s meal hall.

  Sam wasn’t there again. She had never been absent for so long before. Since she had started volunteering, she had never stayed away longer than one or two days. Like clockwork, she would be there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, helping before she would ever help herself. Even if she was going for a job interview or temporarily had a job, she would still drop in for part of the day.

  The fact that Sam had been away so long, especially over Christmas, was strange and Sister Sue was determined to find out what was keeping her away.

  She couldn’t lose her. She couldn’t live without her. Especially not now Joyce had gone as well.

  “Sue Page, you bring those smokes back to me right now, or so help me, I’ll tell your husband all about those men you’ve had,” Joyce shouted.

  Sue laughed. “Go ahead. He’ll never believe you.”

  “Come on, stop it and give me my bloody smokes back, you cow.” Joyce folded her arms across her chest and pouted at her friend.

  “Here you go. If you get cancer don’t come crying to me.” Sue hurled the pack of Twenty-fives across the kitchen to her.

  “I wish you would stop doing that. You’re not helping,” Joyce said, lighting up a cigarette.

  “Don’t smoke in here, you cow. Get out.” Sue raced for the phone as it started ringing.

  As the voice buzzed on the other end of the line, Sue’s blood froze. She couldn’t be hearing this. No! It wasn’t possible!

  She put the phone down and screamed and screamed.

  Joyce raced back inside. “What’s wrong?”

  It took a while for Sue to calm down enough to explain it was the Royal Melbourne Hospital calling to say that both their husbands had been in a serious car accident.

  The two women held each other, screaming and crying in fear and disbelief.

  “What about Samantha and Nicole?” Joyce asked.

  “They didn’t say anything about our babies. Come on, we need to be strong for them. I’ll drive.” After handing Joyce some tissues, Sue wiped her eyes and mustered enough courage to get them both into the car and to the hospital.

  At the emergency desk, they enquired about their husbands and were ushered into a small office. A man entered and introduced himself as Dr Amal Michaeal. He informed them that both men had been pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital as a result of the severe injuries they had sustained in the accident.

  “What about our girls, Samantha and Nicole? Where are our baby girls?” Sue asked.

  “According to the ambulance officers, there was only one girl in the car and I’m sorry to inform you she was pronounced dead on arrival,” said the doctor.

  “But they were going to pick up my daughter Samantha from my in-laws. I need to ring them now,” Sue shouted in a panic.

&n
bsp; “Here, please use my phone.” The doctor pointed to the phone on his desk.

  Sue dialled the number and was overwhelmed with relief to hear that Samantha was there, safe and sound. But then she had to tell her in-laws that their sons, along with baby Nicole, were dead.

  It was too much to bear. How would they cope without their husbands? And little Nicole, gone forever. She looked over to the chair where Joyce sat weeping and joined her.

  So many tragedies, so many mistakes. She couldn’t make another one, not again, not with Sam. Sue needed to get her back.

  The Professor

  The ten days of counselling were finally over, and Sam had found the process helpful, despite her preoccupation with books. She had immersed herself in reading and learning to the exclusion of almost everything else.

  A few days later, she received a letter of notice from the museum, requesting her to return to work. But reluctance gnawed at her. How could she go back to doing manual labour?

  She got dressed and headed in the next day after her usual bowl of muesli. She took the book glasses with her in her handbag. When she arrived, she wore a gloomy face for all to notice.

  “Morning, Samantha. It’s good to see you back, my dear,” said James with a genuine smile before hurrying past her to help a customer with an enquiry.

  “Hi, James,” Sam replied with a serious frown and went to find Tom. It was time to hand in her notice. Now she had the glasses she knew they’d help her get a better job.

  As she stepped out of the elevator, Tom rushed past her. “Hi, Sam, thanks for coming in. I’m glad to see you. I’m under the pump today and I need you out in the foyer area now, please. We’ve just had a spill. I’ve got a problem at the delivery docks and I need to go, but let’s catch up at lunchtime.”

  The lift doors closed before Sam had a chance to respond so she shrugged and changed into her work overalls.