Language Lessons

A little fictional writing exercise I did to convey the way I feel about autism and learning about Eve.

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I am on an island. It's a beautiful island. It has two residents. Me and Eve.

On this island, I need to communicate to her that I have some food for her. But whenever I speak, she doesn't understand my words and she bawks. She screams. She runs.

When I see a storm coming, I warn her of the darkness and rain. She bawks more. She squawks like a parrot.

In fact, everything I do causes her to scream "no" and bawk and cry.

One day a lone boat comes and a single person is on the boat. The person on the boat tells me that they have the answer to communicating better with Eve. They tell me that all I have to do is talk backwards.

"You mean," I clarify, "If I want her to eat food I call it 'doof' instead."

The person smiles. "Actually, if you want her to 'eat food,' you'll tell her to 'doof tea.' All your sentences and words need to be completely backwards."

For days I sit in frustration and continue my own way of communication with her, but it's not working. I call for help, but there are only insurance monkeys and labrador pediatricians on the island. No one speaks in words I understand.

When I see my daughter crying for an hour because she wants to wear plaid shorts and not pink ones, I finally tell myself that the stranger from the boat might be right.

I sit on the beach. With my finger in the sand, I begin writing sentences and then translating them backwards.

Love you.
Uoy evol.

Please come.
Emoc esaelp.

I try the phrases out on my daughter. My daughter is calmer. She's responding well. She comes when I call her. Sometimes she skips and does a little dance before she comes, but she comes without bawking, without crying.

The language before me is not one I know, but I will learn it because I love her and I want to connect with her. And because one day, we may be able to get off this island.

Epoh i.