When they get here, it will be late afternoon. Take them into the living room. Sit them by the window. Make sure you offer them a drink, food. Tea, coffee, soda, water – whatever. It won’t matter. Watch their mouths. Don’t stare.
Sit politely across from them in the brown chair and answer their questions as best you can. No need to worry; just don’t overdo it. Chitchat is good. Short. Sweet. Simple. And don’t talk to them like you think they are stupid. Or deaf. Keep your voice calm and steady, like we practiced. Don’t go too fast. Don’t be too loud. Don’t talk about me.
Once it gets a little darker, the room will have some shadows. Before it gets too dark, ask them what they think about the bicycle sculpture on the top of the bookshelf. They will have to look up, to the left. Glance at the shape of their eyes, but really try to figure out the color. See if they are grey, or more than grey. Remember, don’t stare. They will know you are looking, but probably won’t mind if you are gentle.
When they look back at you, focus on the instant your eyes meet. And remember what flashes in your mind. Where do you find yourself? Are you somewhere mundane, buying cottage cheese? Or maybe you will be somewhere beautiful, the beach. Your grandmother’s kitchen. You might feel like you’re a soaring balloon or a sinking anchor. Are you warm? Are you cold? What is it like? Just remember. You have to remember.
Oh, and before you ask them to look at the bicycle, grab onto the side of your chair. Do it gently. Hold on as tight as you can.
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