On 21 Jun 2010 19:23:01 -0500, " +Grant. " <+Grant@grant.grant> wrote:
>
>
>The Adventures of Stevie #9
>
>These stories were told to me by friends and other people. Some of them
>are true. Some of them are only partly true. Some of them should have
>been true. LOL
>
>My first post about Stevie ("Call me Stephen!") was when he was 12 and
>in summer camp and was told by another camper. This was from a time
>before computers would fit on a desk and when people communicated with
>friends in other countries by actual letters sent through the postal
>service. When children did this those friends were called "penpals".
>Carlos is Stevie's penpal in Argentina and knows English. This is a
>fictional contrivance to enable Stevie to tell us his stories because
>he isn't here in person. I think.
>The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
>Stevie's school is for gifted children who don't fit in regular schools.
>It's spring now, and Stevie has just turned 11. He has studied to
>become a better communicator, and has succeeded.
>
>
>The Adventures of Stevie #9 "Tit for Tat"
>
>
>Dear Carlos,
>
>
> I learned a very important lesson this week. I will tell you about it
>later. First I have to tell you about what happened in fencing class.
>The teacher was surprised I hit what I aim for all the time, no matter
>how fast I move. I told him it was because of two things. I have very
>strong fingers from my metal sculpture I have been doing since I was
>very little, and I always know exactly where the target is, so I can
>aim the foil fast and thrust right. He didn't believe me, so I showed
>him. He believes me now and is a little sore for it. Ha ha. I showed
>him how strong my fingers are by grabbing his wrist and squeezing it
>until he yelled STOP. He was very surprised a weak looking little boy
>could to that. I guess he never saw me practice bending forks and
>spoons with the fingers of one hand at lunch. The judo and karate
>teacher we call Sensei already knows. Then I put some tape on the wall
>in different places and wrote numbers on them. I turned my back to the
>wall and told him to call out the numbers in any order. He did that and
>I hit each number over my shoulder with the tip of the foil without
>looking, as fast as he could call out the numbers. He said "how did you
>do that?" I said "I already told you. I know where the targets are. I
>saw them, remember? I didn't have to look again because they didn't
>move." I don't think he believed me, but he couldn't think of anything
>else. It was a good thing I didn't tell him most times I don't have to
>see a target at all to know where it is, even if I never saw it before.
>I think Sensei knows, because nobody can sneak up behind me and get
>away with it, but he won't tell. I will explain it.
>
>Sometimes I know about things I can't see, because I have special
>hearing. I can hear very soft sounds that nobody else can hear until
>the sounds get louder, and I can hear higher frequencies than normal
>people, which only animals like cats and dogs can hear. Mother doesn't
>know because she would think I am a freak. Father knows because he saw
>that loud sounds hurt my ears more than normal people, and had me
>tested. There is something else nobody can really understand except
>somebody who is blind. Just like them I can use my ears to see. They
>learn it because they don't have eyes that work so they have to
>concentrate on hearing, but I do it better because I was born with
>better hearing and grew up with seeing ears so my brain grew in a way
>that helps me use that better, just like bats see in the dark with
>their ears. They make sounds and listen to them bounce off things. That
>tells them where the thing is and how hard it is, because sounds bounce
>back sharper from hard things than soft things which soak up part of
>the sound. You can make different kinds of sounds, and from what comes
>back you can tell different things about what they bounce off of. If
>you don't believe me I can tell how you can hear this for yourself.
>Have you ever been in a room that echos when you make a sound? That's
>what I hear all the time, but I get a lot more information from it
>because I can hear higher frequencies that bounce better. If you hang
>lots of curtains in that room, the echos will stop because the sounds
>are absorbed by the cloth. Here is another test. Go into a quiet medium
>size room and put an electric fan in it. You sit or stand about 10 feet
>from the fan with your back to it, so you can feel the wind on you. Ask
>somebody to walk halfway between you and the fan as quiet as they can
>so you can't hear them move, and stand between you and the fan. You
>will hear the sound from the fan change when they do that. You might be
>able to feel the difference in the air on your skin when the air
>changes the way it moves, too. I hear these things and a whole lot
>more. Because of this I have a good picture of a room I'm in and know
>everything that changes in it, all without having to think about it or
>see it with my eyes. There is more. I can hear people breathing and
>sometimes their heart beat, and their knees and elbows move, and their
>shoes squeak, and their clothing rubbing together that they can't hear.
>This helps me a lot in body reading and signaling, which I will explain
>to you next.
>
>We don't just communicate by talking. We communicate with how our faces
>and bodies move, sometimes even more than speaking. It's like a
>language and a code. The language is simple but the codes are complex
>and hard to read unless you learn and practice. A language is a way to
>communicate ideas and a lot more. A code is something that means
>something it isn't. It's like shaking your head. Unless you are trying
>to avoid a fly buzzing around your face, it means you are saying NO.
>That's a simple code. If you put a lot of simple codes together you can
>make it almost as complex as a real language and communicate a lot of
>information with it, which we all do but most people don't notice we
>send and receive this information from each other all the time. If we
>don't know we are doing it, and don't study the body codes and what
>they mean, we can't fake it, so people who know the body codes can
>learn a lot about us we don't want them to, like they can tell if we
>lie. My father teaches this part time at the school, and cyphers and
>lock-picking too, which are more things we can talk about later. There
>is one more thing about this. You can make up your own codes, like lift
>your shoulder and move a little finger at the same time to say you are
>hungry to somebody who you told that's what it means. You can make up
>your own secret body code and nobody else will know what it means
>except the people who learn it. This way we can do like talking to each
>other and nobody knows we are doing it. Father teaches it to us.
>Students have our own body code at the school. Teachers have a
>different code. They don't know I know most of it because I am my
>father's best body code student. We call doing it signaling. I can
>understand the body language better than normal people because I can
>hear some of it, not just see it. I am very good at reading poker
>players. Ha ha.
>You should know about all this because it helps explain what happened
>later.
>
>Ever since I learned what breasts are for, I have been very curious
>about them. I decided to experiment. SueAnn is a student at my school.
>She is 14 and has big breasts, and is very shy. When I see her in the
>hallway and nobody else is around, I run up to her and squeeze one of
>her breasts a little. She holds very still and her face turns bright
>pink. She looks like a like a frozen popsicle in a dress with hot sauce
>on top. Then she runs to the girl's bathroom, and I run away to the
>boy's bathroom to wait for my monster to quiet down. So far I have done
>this to both her breasts and with both of my hands, which I change back
>and forth, and no milk has come out yet to make her dress wet. She
>never tells on me. These experiments are exciting in a fun way. A week
>ago I ran into the bathroom after one of the experiments, and Will was
>there standing in the middle with his zipper down.
>
>Will is 14 and is the strongest student. He has bigger muscles than
>anybody I ever saw. He can lift people over his head! He is the best at
>judo, but I never practiced with him. He likes me a little because I'm
>good at karate, and I have a special claw hand shape I use to grab,
>that's very strong.
>His zipper was down because it was broken. He asked me to help him fix
>it because my hands are smaller than his and would fit there better,
>and I have very strong fingers. I tried jerking the zipper thing up for
>a long time and it didn't move, but something else did. His monster
>grew upward too. I couldn't help touching it through his tight white
>briefs when I was jerking the zipper up, because his pants were so
>tight. He started making little moaning noises like a ghost from the
>bottom of a dry well. I knew what that meant! I tried to back away
>before he made my fingers slimy, but he grabbed my hands and made them
>rub his monster more. I was caught and couldn't get away. Then his
>monster jumped and my fingers were wet and sticky. He let me go, and I
>washed my hands. I said I couldn't fix his zipper, and was going to get
>some safety pins to close his pants, and ran out of there.
>
>I came back with the pins, and gave them to him. He asked me to help
>him put them in. I tried but he jerked my face too close to his zipper
>for some reason I don't know, and I accidentally stabbed my thumb with
>the pin. A little blood came out. He said he was sorry, but didn't
>sound like it, and pulled me up so he could look at it. Then he put my
>whole thumb in his mouth and sucked hard up and down it. It felt
>strange and and my monster liked it a little. I asked him why he was
>doing it, and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let go. He made some
>noises but he couldn't talk so I could understand while my thumb was
>plugging up his mouth. Now I know why the dentist didn't understand
>what I was trying to tell him. I finally pulled my thumb away, which
>came out with a loud "plop". I was rubbing my thumb dry on my shirt
>while I ran out of there and back to class. I run everywhere. He came
>back a little later with his pants closed with the safety pins.
>
>Things changed. Will kept looking at me all day and the next day like
>he was hungry and rubbing his zipper when he thought nobody would see.
>He was wrong. People did see and I could tell they didn't like it. That
>kind of body code doesn't lie. I didn't like it either, and I didn't
>like what he made me do in the bathroom. He didn't ask, and that made
>it bad. If Jeremy asked me, I might do it, but Jeremy is nice and would
>never make me, and Will is mean and might hurt me to make me. Then the
>school psychologist Dr. Wyman Knot came and signaled a come-with code
>to Mrs. Toffeekness, the literature teacher who was in the class, and
>they went out of the classroom and whispered to each other, which I
>heard without them knowing it. They were going to take Will away. Then
>they came back in and took Will out of the class. He never came back.
>They said Will was expelled, and we would never see him again. I felt
>better he wasn't here anymore to do what he did, but I felt sorry for
>him too. This is a great school.
>
>What happened with Will made me think about what I did with SueAnn.
>Then I ran to the bathroom and cried. I was just as mean as Will! I
>didn't want to be like that. NEVER NEVER NEVER! I didn't want to make
>people feel bad like Will did to me. I didn't want to be expelled too.
>Then I wiped my face and went to talk to SueAnn. I told her I was very
>sorry I did what I did to her without her permission, that I didn't
>understand it was bad before, and I would never do it again. She said
>"thank you", and took my hand, and we went back to class. I almost
>cried again.
>
>I learned this very important lesson.
>Doing things to people's body's they don't want you to do is very bad.
>Making them do things to your body they don't want to do is very bad
>too.
>Making people feel bad so you can feel good is maybe the worst thing in
>the world.
>I will remember this lesson all my life.
>
>
>Your friend,
>
>Stephen
Hey Grant,
Thanks for the story. The message is one that needs to be broadcast
here. It took me awhile to see where Stevie was going, but I stayed
with it and was rewarded.
Dr. Wyman Knot (lol) and Mrs. Toffeeknees collaborating? Another
first.
Stay Safe,
Doc
NP-f31
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