Miracle

“I think the work is going fine. But we have some additional work to do.” Quinn's heart was beating faster as he said it. This was important, and he wanted Jack to agree to do it, for both their sakes. It was as important to Quinn now as it was to Jack. They had formed a partnership the night before, a silent contract, a bond that could not be broken. Jack had given him something precious when he trusted Quinn with the truth. And Quinn was going to honor it, and felt honored, to his very core.

“What kind of work?” Jack asked, looking puzzled.

There was a long pause as the two men looked at each other. There was something very naked and raw in the room. It was hope. “If you'll let me,” Quinn began cautiously, “if you'll allow me the privilege of doing so, I'm going to teach you how to read.” There was a deafening silence in the room, and Jack turned away from him, with tears pouring down his cheeks. And Quinn was crying too. It was a long time before Jack turned to look at him again, and longer before he could speak.

“Do you mean that? Why would you do that for me?”

“Because I want to, we both do. I've done a lot of dumb, stupid, mean, selfish things in my life, Jack. This might turn out to be the first decent thing I've ever done, and I'd appreciate it if you'd give me that chance.” It was Quinn asking Jack for something, both of them had much to gain from it, not just Jack. It was a journey they were both embarking on, to an unknown destination. “Will you do it?” Quinn asked him, and slowly Jack nodded, and dried his face with his hand.

“Are you kidding?” Jack smiled slowly, and his expression of jubilation was mirrored in Quinn's eyes. Jack had wanted to attend a literacy program all his life, and had been too ashamed. But he felt nothing shameful about learning to read with Quinn now. All he felt was pride. “When do we start?” He beamed.

“Now,” Quinn said quietly, pulling the newspaper toward him, and pulling his chair around so he could sit next to Jack. “By the time you finish this job, you're going to read better than anyone I know. And if it takes longer than the work you're doing here,” Quinn reassured him, “that's okay too. There was a reason you told me what you did last night, for both of us. Now let's see what we can do.” Jack smiled up at his teacher, and Quinn poured them each a cup of coffee and sat down again. The lessons had begun.

6

THE READING LESSONS WENT WELL FOR THE FIRST FEW weeks. Jack spent his days working on the repairs on the house. And for two hours afterward, and sometimes more, he and Quinn sat at the kitchen table and wended their way slowly and painfully through the newspaper. Eventually Quinn used his old sailing book as their textbook, once Jack was more comfortable. They were a full month into it, when Quinn shared with him one of Jane's simple, lovely poems. It was a victory when Jack not only got the meaning of it, but was able to read it slowly and smoothly out loud. And when he did, he looked up at Quinn in amazement.

“That's beautiful. She must have been quite a woman,” he said softly, still moved by what he'd read, and thrilled that he had been able to read it at all.

“She was,” Quinn said sadly. “I didn't always know that about her. I only discovered who she was in the last months we spent together. I don't think I ever really knew her before.” He had learned even more about her, through her poems and journals once she was gone. The tragedy was that for thirty-six years before that, he had barely known her, and much of the time, took her for granted or ignored her. It was an admission he had only recently come to accept about himself, and not one he was proud of.

“She looks beautiful in the photographs,” Jack said quietly. She had been a delicate, almost fragile-looking woman, but there had been far more strength in her than anyone ever suspected, least of all her husband. And her spirit had been gentle and graceful to the core.

“She was beautiful,” Quinn admitted. It was easy for Jack to see now how much Quinn had loved her. “She was a remarkable woman,” he added with a wistful look, as they wound up the lesson.

Jack was making impressive progress, and Quinn was giving him something he had always dreamed of. In a way, it was a gift of freedom, and one by one Quinn was helping him to sever the chains that had bound him. His inability to read had been like a death sentence to him, or at the very least a lonely prison. It was Quinn who was imprisoned now, condemned to his own loneliness and bitter recriminations forever. He was still having the recurring dream, but less often ever since he'd started helping Jack with his reading. It was almost as though doing something for another human being was helping to assuage his guilt.