Elephant Man - Christine Sparks [42]
The fear died away. The eyes became blank again.
“Hello—my name is John Merrick,” he intoned.
“That’s right, John. I want you to say that to someone I’m bringing to see you today—as perfectly as you can. Don’t look alarmed—” for Merrick had flinched away at the mention of a stranger. “It’s a friend—someone who’ll be kind to you, and I want you to speak politely to him as I’ve taught you. I’m going to teach you a few more phrases as well, so that you can make some polite conversation. And a psalm. I don’t suppose you know what that is, do you? It’s a poem in the Bible, a very beautiful poem. I’ve got just a few hours to teach you to say it perfectly. Where is the Bible, by the way? It doesn’t seem to be here.”
He found the book at last on the windowsill, well away from the table where it had been left. He shrugged. It was natural for Merrick to be fingering the objects in the room.
“We’ll start with the conversation,” he said, sitting down, “and we’ll see if we can get you used to that before someone comes to wash and dress you. Then after breakfast we’ll start on the psalm.
“When our visitor arrives I’ll show him into the room, and I’ll say to you, ‘May I introduce you to Mr. Carr-Gomm?’ and you will say, ‘Hello, my name is John Merrick.’ Let’s try that …”
They were deep in their work when Mrs. Mothershead came in at eight o’clock. She looked disapproving when she saw Treves already there, but said nothing, and Treves did not invite comment. As soon as he could decently get rid of her he pulled out the Bible. He felt he had done all he could with the polite conversation. If Merrick shaped up as well as he promised to, Carr-Gomm should be convinced.
By one o’clock he felt he had it. He had settled for teaching Merrick the first half of the twenty-third psalm perfectly rather than the whole psalm imperfectly. It was more important for Merrick to seem to know what he was saying than to be able to recite large chunks.
For the last time Merrick ran through it from memory.
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,” he enunciated slowly and not too indistinctly. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside still waters.” As he heard these words Treves became more than ever convinced that Merrick had no notion of the meaning of what he was saying. Otherwise how could he bear to recite such a grotesque denial of what his life actually was?
“He restoreth my soul,” Merrick continued huskily. “He guideth me in the paths of righteousness …” he trailed away.
“Righteousness for his name’s sake,” Merrick took up at once.
Treves breathed again. Only one failure of memory was more than he had hoped for.
“Very good, very good. Now when your visitor comes today I want you to say it exactly the way you said it just now. I will introduce him to you and you will say the words you’ve learned.
“If you have any trouble with any of the words, I’ll help you. I’m sure you’ll be just fine. If you do as well for him as you’ve done for me, then I’m sure our visitor will be very pleased. Now let’s go through the whole thing again, shall we? I’ll say, ‘May I introduce you to Mr. Carr-Gomm?’ And you will say—”
“Hello, my name is John Merrick,” the Elephant Man came in prompt on cue. “I am very pleased to meet you.” ’
They went through it all once more before Treves left, telling Merrick to rest until he returned with Carr-Gomm. As soon as he was on his own he became sharply aware that he had not eaten that day. Absorbed in teaching Merrick he had no attention to spare for his own needs, but now he was ravenous.
He left the hospital by a quiet side door—hoping not to be accosted by Mothershead wanting him for a patient, or Fox demanding heartily, “What are you up to, you old dog?”—and made his way to a small eating house nearby. Over a chop he brooded over the coming confrontation.
He had few real fears by now that Merrick could be considered intelligent in the normal adult way. The Elephant Man followed what was taught him with the parrot ability