Jaime Preciado and the Mighty Ding

Later that night, I found myself watching a movie with the other boys. They argued between which movies to watch. Tony wanted the new TMNT movie. Mike wanted to watch True Grit. Vic suggested Transformers. Jaime was indifferent to anything and just rolled his eyes as the boys continued to fight.

“But Donatello!” Tony whined.

“But Tony, shut up!” Mike fired back. Tony pouted and I poked his knee.

“Hey!” He chuckled. I silently laughed.

“Ding gets to decide.” Jaime declared. Since it was his house, his DVD player, it was his rules.

“Transformers!” Vic whispered to me loudly.

“True Griiiit!” Mike called out.

“TMNT!” Tony yelled over everyone else. Jaime was in the middle of slapping Vic upside the head when I caught his arm and pointed to the movie I wanted to watch. The others all nodded when Jaime pulled it out. I guess this was a good median.

Ten minutes later, we were all watching the opening credits to Captain America 2: the Winter Soldier.

Everyone had claimed residence on some area of the living room. Tony took the rug and Vic was piled on top of him. They at least looked semi-comfortable together. Mike was stretched out on the recliner and Jaime and I were on the couch. Mike had gotten popcorn for all of us and we set our bowl in front of the table. Jaime and I were sharing the buttery goodness.

“Tony, stop hogging the popcorn and butter!” Vic muttered quietly.

“You’re the rug hog!” Tony shot back. Vic whined.

“Butter thief!” He stumbled over the words.

“Butt-queef?” Tony asked.

“NO!” Vic shouted and his cheeks turned a fiery red.

“Vic is a butt-queef!” Tony shouted out. Jaime chucked a piece of popcorn at his face and shut him.

“Shut up!” Mike hissed. The action was just about to get started and I was still grinning like a fool from what Tony had thought he had heard. I don’t know about anyone else, but I still heard butter thief and not butt queef. But that was just as good, I guess.

Thought the movie, I was stuck between eating popcorn and trying to talk. During the funny parts of the movie, I was trying to laugh, but making no sound. It was as frustrating as walking into a candy store and seeing fruit all over the place.

Instead of trying to form sentences, I focused on one word. I mouthed it over and over again while trying to push air out of my throat and say the word. Who knew it could be so hard to push air out of your throat? I certainly didn’t.

My brain was slow to process the words. Ever since that floor hit my head, I knew that there was some disconnect between command central and giving out the orders to actually speak. I hated it, but I was working on trying to fix it.

I kept mouthing the words as Captain America and Black Widow walked through the mall. I was tucked under a blanket that Jaime and I shared when he pushed the popcorn bowl away from us after grabbing a handful. My stomach growled, “FEED ME!” So I tried to feed it, but the popcorn bowl was too far away from easy access. Darn it, Jaime! That butt-queef!

“Jaime!” I growled and then stopped. Himes looked at me with a really confused expression. My jaw dropped and if I could talk, I would’ve be yelling in joy!

“Jaime! Jaime! Jaime!” I cheered. Vic paused the movie and everyone was staring at me. This accomplishment was as big as Mount Rushmore and shot me to the moon in my joy.

“What is it, Ding?” He asked me. I shook with excitement. Grabbing his arm, I was beaming from ear to ear.

“Jaime!” I chuckled.

“Yes?”

“Jaime! Ding! Jaime! Ding!” I tried to explain my joy but got frustrated because they couldn’t understand why it was such a big reason to be happy.

“Yes? Ding? No? Ding?” Tony looked at me with a really strange expression.

“JaimeJaimeJaimeJaime!” I laughed. With my vocabulary extended to now two words, I was using it as most as I could. Sometimes, my life was like a huge game of charades. I guess some had chucked a bonus point card in my face when I got a new word.

“WillowWillowWillowWillow?” He asked, now laughing as I bounced on the couch. Trying with elaborate hand motions, I silently growled in frustration.

Then I decided that I would tell him. You know, YOLO right?

Woah, that was stupid. Never say that again. I told myself.

What was the harm in telling him? I think he would actually understand. With a shaky breath, I whipped out my pencil and paper. I scrawled down my summary of a life story on the lines.

Willow Caston’s Tragic Life Story: The Condensed Milk Version.

Yep, it was short and condensed. Just like condensed milk.

Once I was done, I threw the paper in his lap and he picked it up, staring to read it. He turned it over to finish. Vic, Tony, and Mike all gathered around. Jaime just stared at me and I took a nervous breath. My eyebrows furrowed in concern. What would he think?

Would he think I was a freak that now only had two words in my vocabulary? Would he think I was a robot programmed with only one word and now I had learned my second?

The last one was highly unlikely, but then again, he was Jaime Preciado.

“You only could say one word…” He started. His brown eyes were wide. The other three were skimming over the note.

“…and now you finally could say something else…” I saw a tear of joy come to his eyes. I nodded again.

“…and you said my name.” He finished. I beamed. The others looked at me in shock. I was still a little confused on what they would do, but I could cross my fingers, my toes, and my tongue and hope for the best.

I’m still working on the whole crossing my tongue part…

“You said my name.” He breathed. I smiled again.

“You said my name! YOU SAID MY NAME!” He cheered. I laughed with excitement. Standing up, he swooped me into his arms, spinning me around. I latched on like he would accidentally throw me out the window.

Hey, it could happen!

Jaime was still holding onto me as I gasped for breath. He held me so tight he might break my ribs. I don’t think I could explain this at the hospital.

“Dude! She can’t breathe!” Vic chuckled. Jaime finally let me go as the others gave me a hug. Tony started to have a solo dance part in the middle of the floor. He flailed his arms like he was swatting at flies. Oh, Turtle and his nonexistent dance moves…

But soon enough, we were all joining in with him and swatted at invisible flies together.

Notes