It was an elementary school workbook. Basic math, vocabulary words, shapes, and flags. It made a nice mental diversion for me. Instead of trying to race to the end of each page, I lingered over each question. Two plus two equals four always, but how many ways could you find that four!
Another adult impatiently walks past. He did not want to wait any further than necessary, and while he still had to wait for other people to do what they had to do, he felt this was all unnecessary and an intentional waste of his time. He looked down at the workbook and scoffed. Why would I be intently studying an empty book?
I pointed to the page introducing geometry and shapes. He said he saw nothing. I held it up to him. He derided me for being a grown adult playing pretend. He truly did not see the words on the paper.
A little girl came up to me. She reminded me of someone, but I could not place her at the time. “No, that’s not how you do it. It’s a magic book! You have to make it happy or it won’t show you anything.”
She closed the book and placed it in my lap. She did a little song and a little wiggle dance and clapped her hands as she sung about “Mrs. Bigmark’s Happy Fancy Magic Workbook”. Each third line ended with the name of the workbook and a happy set of claps.
Three happy stanzas later, she opened the book back to the page I had. “See. It must have liked you before because it kept all your answers. But now there is more color!” I had done the questions in my mind, never making any marks in the book itself. But indeed, there were all my answers, and all the ways I had derived the answers, written in neat pencil as if I had done so with my hand. The shapes were now vibrantly colored, the lines shimmering with holographic brilliance.
The man looked closer at the book and started shouting invectives at me for encouraging the girl to play pretend with me. The girl never looked back at him. She just said (not so) quietly, “Some grownups can’t read the workbook. They grow up and forget how to read like a kid. Poor man, he’s already old and doesn’t know it.”. This did not sit well with the man and he left me while hurling viciousness towards those that were keeping him from his destiny.
The girl sat next to me. She said she wanted to watch me use the workbook. I told her that I knew all the things in it already, and if she needed it for study, she was more than welcome to take it.
“Oh, no. It always shows you what you need to work on. Sometimes you need to work on what you already know, and sometimes you need to work on something new. And because we’re sitting here together, it will show us the same page, but different levels. See the shapes? I don’t know them all yet, so I’m seeing the first shapes. But I bet you know more about shapes than I do.”
Before she closed and danced for the book, the page on shapes was filled with triangles, squares, and trapezoids. But now the shapes were spinning and unfolding in three dimensional space, becoming platonic solids. I reached to the book and touched one of them. A cube stopped spinning and lifted off the page.
“I know that! That’s a square! What does it look like to you?”
“A cube. It’s made from six squares.”
“See, it’s showing you what you need to learn, and what I need to learn, and in a way that we can help each other learn. Isn’t that great!”
I smiled and nodded. The cube disappeared and a word appeared on the page. She looked at it and said she couldn’t read that word.
“Tetrahedron”, I read.
“Is that a fancy name for a shape?”
“Yes. It is a block made from four triangles.”
The word became surrounded by numerous squares, triangles, pentagons, and circles in various sizes and colors. She and I looked at each other.
I came to a quick assumption. “If we’re supposed to help each other, then maybe you’re supposed to get the number of shapes that I need to build the shape meant for me. So, can you find four triangles that are the same size?”
“Sure!” She picked a red triangle, then a yellow, then a green. Her hand slipped and touched a square by accident. The square turned black and shrunk into the page until it disappeared. “Oops. That’s a square. Here, have a blue triangle instead!” She touched said shape and all four correct shapes popped off the page and floated above the book.
“Okay. My turn. This is how you make a tetrahedron.” I took the floating triangles and placed them edge to edge. When the block was completed, it floated before the girl with the number one glowing on one side. “Now you check to see if I have the right number of triangles.”
“One.” She turned the tetrahedron. “Two. Three. Four. You have four triangles making a te… tee… pyramid thing!” She clapped and the tetrahedron spun rapidly, throwing sparkles of light on us for a job well done.
The class continued. The shapes becoming more complicated for me, and more numerous and challenging for her. But we were having fun learning, each to our level, but both to satisfaction. When the book closed itself, it surprised me.
“That means learning time is over and we have to go home now. Thank you, Nice Lady, for sitting with me. That was fun!” She took the closed book and laid it on the bench we were sitting on. The man that derided us before came back pointing at me.
“You. They’re calling for you. You did nothing but sit here and play pretend games and they’re calling for you! When do I get a turn! When is it my time to prove myself!” His whining felt too familiar and I was ashamed.
A little hand slipped in mine. “Come on, Nice Lady. We’ll leave Mister Grumpy Pants alone.” She walked with me to the door, and I realized the two girls she reminded me of. I did not say anything to her, though. If I was right, this was the nicest incarceration I have ever endured, and it would be wrong of me to talk shit about it after all the bullshit I’ve been through lately.
Besides, I learned a few things.
Can’t beat an education.
I opened the door to the outside. A blinding light overwhelmed us. I felt her hand leave mine.
I woke up.