Page 29 of Light Up The Night
"Well, in addition to German, in which I am only relatively conversationally fluent, I am passable in Spanish and Portuguese. I am well-versed in French, as it is rather widely spoken in certain regions of Africa. I can make myself understood in Italian. I have a smattering of quite a few African dialects as well, but I do not consider myself fluent in any of them."
Riley laughs—it sounds startled, or perhaps shocked. "For real?"
"Um, well…yes. Why?"
He shakes his head. "You speakfivelanguages other than English fluently?"
"Yes. And I know words and phrases in perhaps six more African dialects."
"Fuck me," he mutters. To me, then. "How do you know so many languages?"
"I am what you might consider a black hole when it comes to information. Languages in particular have always come easily to me. I first began learning Spanish as a young child, as one does. I then discovered the similarity of Portuguese to Spanish, which led to the understanding of the influence of Latin on Spanish, French, Portuguese, and Italian. Therefore, I taught myself to read and write in Latin—it is not a spoken language, so one cannot be considered fluent in it, per se, however. Once I understood the structure and syntax and such of Latin, it was a relatively easy matter to absorb the relatively minor differencesin the romance languages. German is similar to English—or rather, English is similar to German, I should say, so that was not very difficult. My family and I spent a year in Germany when I was nine, while my parents attempted to gain entry to Rwanda, and that was when I became truly conversant. The African languages I picked up out of necessity, while living among the people who speak them."
"Jesus," Riley breathes. "Make me feel like a real dumbfuck. I barely speak English properly."
I shake my head. "No, please. Do not feel that way. My mind is, as you may have noticed, rather different. It seeks patterns above all else, and language is nothingbutpatterns for the most part. What is not a matter of patterns is a matter of memorization, and I happen to have an eidetic memory."
"A what memory?”
"Eidetic. It was once called a photographic memory, but recent advancements in understanding have rendered that term obsolete. It merely means I retain information with perfect recall."
"Yeah, I guess that tracks," he mutters.
Noelle, having finished cleaning her space, joins the conversation. "So, since this isn't a social call, to what do we owe the pleasure?"
Riley explains my mission, the need, and Mrs. Aldis's plan to bring the Chamber of Commerce on board.
Noelle listens politely. "So, what does this have to do with me?"
"Well," Riley says. "Cadence's whole thing is missions. And, well…look, I know you've had your issues with church folks, considering what happened with you and your ex, but I was hoping you still had some connections in the church community. I guess this just seems like the kind of thing church folks would get behind."
Noelle sighs. "You aren't wrong, there. It's just…I pretty much cut all ties with the church when everything happened." She looks at me, thinking. "My parents, however, are a different story. I'll talk to them." She looks at me again, frowning. "You're really going to go there? Isn’t it pretty dangerous?"
"It is," I agree. "But I cannot allow that to deter me. I made a promise which I intend to keep. The people there deserve care, precisely because of the danger which they live with every day. When I have finished my mission, I will return here, where it is safe. They will not."
"You've got guts, I'll give you that," Noelle says. "I'd be too scared."
"Nah," Bear says, regarding her with affection. "You're way braver than you think."
She smiles at him. "I'm glad you think so, baby.” To me, then. "I'll see what I can do."
"That is all one could hope for," I say. "And considering you do not know me at all, it is more than I could have asked."
The main salon door opens, and a woman enters.
"That's my next appointment," Noelle says. “I’ll get ahold of you, Riley, once I've spoken to my parents."
"You're the best, No-No." Riley hugs her and then gives Bear an exuberant, back-slapping, hyper-masculine embrace. "See ya 'round, Bear."
“Yeah, man," Bear rumbles. "Nice to meet you, Cadence."
"You as well, both of you,” I say, waving as Riley leads me outside.
He points down the street. "Next stop, the sheriff's office!"
"Why the sheriff?" I ask.
"Oh, well, because the sheriff happens to be my lifelong best friend. Well, one of two, not counting my brother." He grins. "You'll meet everyone, don't worry."
