“They’re just another form of books, right?
Scripts translated into visual form?”
Emily smiled appreciatively. “There are
definite similarities, of course, in terms of story structure and
characterizations, but with the ability to inject narrative, as authors do in
fiction, for example, books aren’t obligated to the kind of rapid
characterization and plot development that scriptwriters are.”
“Nor dependent on actors who must communicate
subtext through body motion and speech,” Derian added.
“Yes,” Emily said. “Which do you prefer?
Films or books?”
Derian was silent a long moment. “I like
films but prefer listening to books when I have the time.”
“Ah, you’re an audiophile. I like them too,
but I miss the slower pace of reading,” Emily said. “I wondered where you kept
your books, but of course you’d want them to be portable since you travel so
much.”
Derian glanced around the room as if it was a
strange new place. “I don’t have any books because I’m not a very good reader.”
Emily stilled. Derian’s voice had faded, as
if she’d drifted someplace beyond their conversation.
“When I was small I couldn’t read at all,”
Derian said matter-of-factly, as if relating a story about someone else. “They
labeled it dyslexia, but I didn’t demonstrate all the signs. I don’t mix up the
words, I have mostly directionality confusion. It was quite an embarrassment to
my family.”
“Surely not to Henrietta,” Emily said vehemently.
Derian smiled thinly. “No, not to Henrietta.
But my father was embarrassed by what they initially thought was some kind of
mental disability.”
“I’m so sorry,” Emily murmured.
“Once I was old enough to verbalize what was
happening, they figured it out and I got the right kind of therapy—all on the
QT, of course.” She grimaced. “I can interpret most maps with a little effort,
but it put an end to my desire to drive race cars.”
“So you sponsor them.” Emily knew Derian
wouldn’t appreciate sympathy for something she’d obviously conquered, but she
couldn’t help being saddened. Such a hard burden when her family had been so
unsupportive. The idea of Derian suffering alone incensed her.
“I’m okay with it all now,” Derian whispered,
taking Emily’s hand as if she were the one in need of comfort.
“I’m glad that we have audiobooks, then. And
that you enjoy them.”
“Fortunately, it turns out I have an eidetic
memory for numbers.” Derian grinned. “I can remember an entire spreadsheet of
values after a quick glance. It gives me a very good edge in anything that
requires probability.”
“Such as cards?” Emily said, trying for a
lighter note.