Rhinoceros: Ryon's story 10
Tuesday
I think Frank is impressed. For the first time he read my stuff in silence and then sat looking at me with a twisted smile on his face.
“I think we need a rest from this, read it all through. What do you think, Ryon?”
“Whatever.”
“You don’t do praise, do you?”
“Not really had much of it to judge.”
"Not even Mr Scope?"
"Dunno. Maybe."
"Meaning yes?"
"Who cares?"
"Just curious."
"He sort of did this ironic praise."
"Like what?"
"Like he was taking the piss."
"Did it work?"
"Well, he didn't piss me off as much as the others."
"A skill, then..."
"Naw, just him being pathetic."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. He wasn't an actor."
"Aren't all teachers actors, performers?"
"Not him. That's how he was. A sad fucker."
"Oh come on!"
"Frank."
"What?"
"Don't tell me how to think."
That shut him up. They all go on a bit too much for my liking, even the alright ones.
Anyway, there was a long pause (but I can out-pause anyone, any day) and then Frank sort of agreed with me that the session was over. Good old Frank.
It's weird, putting speech on a page though. It sort of flattens it, takes out what was interesting about it. But it proves what a load of bollocks people talk most of the time.
I let Frank take the printed sheets away with him. I think he’s going to show them to someone, or read through them again and rub his chin like some philosopher. Or have a wank over them. I mean, he loves all this creative lark. He’s been helping me tidy it up, but he doesn’t change much ‘cause he knows I’ll flip if he does that. I will too. I told him about how that used to really make me mad at primary school, when the teacher put lines and crossings out and her own sentences all over my work. I’d tried my hardest, hadn’t I? So I used to rip my book up in front of her. “You horrible child,” she said one day, and burst into tears. I didn’t feel bad at all. In fact I felt I’d won. Especially when she went on sick leave long term.
