Indigo Ch. 7

Sam woke to the same peaceful quiet that had produced her first dreamless sleep in years. The sun was peaking around the edges of the curtains. She felt rested. This was a new feeling, something she could get used to. Sam pulled back the blankets and headed for the tub. Toiletries and towels were waiting for her. She turned on the hot water and headed back for her bag, which was now lying on the floor. She pulled a t-shirt from the bag and shook out the wrinkles. Picking up her jeans from the floor, she laid the outfit on the bed. She looked at the ensemble for a moment. It wasn't a lot, but at least it wasn't what she had slept in.

After cleaning up, Sam brushed through her hair. She hastily pulled it back and then headed toward the elevator. She hadn't paid a great deal of attention to the hallways last night, but the only level she was allowed to choose had been the first floor. When the doors opened, she recognized her surroundings. Down one end she would find Dr. Franklind's office. Toward the other would be the dining hall. However, what intrigued her most was the sound of a piano playing somewhere nearby.

Sam followed the sound around through the building until she reached an informal sitting area. Couches and armchairs were arranged in small clusters around tables. A gray-haired couple sat on their own couch deep in some unknown discussion. All the other chairs in the room were empty. Sam directed her attention to a pair of oversized chairs, situated in front of a fire burning in the large fireplace. She turned to sit and tucked her legs up beside her in the chair. Her eyes moved across the room.

A teenage boy, with his back to Sam, was sitting at a bench in front of a digital keyboard. His fingers moved effortlessly over the keys, and his eyes closed. The music emanated from his entire being with a skill that seemed well beyond his age. Sam listened intently to the song. What had started as several simple melodies in a row began to grow in complexity. The melodies started to intertwine and connect in intriguing ways, but the simple tunes could still be heard. The intensity increased. The teenager would bring the song up and allow it to swell and then diminish into nothing. Then it would rise up again.

Time seemed to stand still. Sam sat mesmerized by what she heard. A television screen mounted on the wall was showing video of an ocean. It invoked memories of a family trip to the beach. The sun shined down and warmed her skin, the waves crashed along the shoreline. A dozen small fish wound around her feet. Then the music started to shift. What were once playful themes shifted into a minor key. The same notes became frantic and dissonant.

"Taylor is really showing off today. Must have heard we had a new arrival." Sam jumped as Edward put his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh my god, you scared me." Sam said as she jerked away from his hand.

"I'm really sorry. I thought you had seen me come in." He said sincerely.

Sam relaxed, and repositioned herself in the chair. "What do you mean he is showing off?"

Edward pointed to the screen, which was now showing a powerful storm over the ocean. Thunderclouds were producing lightning and torrential rains. The waves were thrashing and angrily pounding the shore. The teenage boy was striking the keys with a violent, rhythmic fervor.

"Did he write that himself?" Sam questioned. "Because it is really beautiful. His ability to make his music match the video is amazing."

"Look more closely. What he is doing is even more impressive than that." Edward was grinning ear to ear and obviously having fun with this game.

Sam continued to watch Taylor play while also paying attention to the video. The storm had subsided and the scenery started to change. The music had a playful quality similar to what you would hear on a carousel ride. She could see an amusement park along the beach. Taylor had opened his eyes and turned to his small audience. He gave a quick head nod to Edward, and it suddenly made sense to Sam.

"That is not possible. He can't be… " She started cautiously.

"That is exactly what he is doing!" Edward interrupted her. He was absolutely giddy and walked over to Taylor to give him a high-five. The screen went black and her conclusion was confirmed. Edward turned to the boy, beaming with pride. "You are getting really good with this last update."

Sam was a bit confused by what she was hearing. Taylor reached down to the keyboard and played what sounded like the first part of a familiar march, the screen turned back on to display fireworks. The last chord of his song was a simple three-note harmony, and the screen turned black again. This time, though, it showed a yellow smiley face.

"It is fantastic what you have done since I left. Head over to class Taylor. Dr. Franklind asked me to give Sam here the official tour. Meet me after dinner, and you can give me some feedback." Taylor got up, grabbed a backpack and jacket, and then headed back toward the main entrance.

Edward took a few steps back toward Sam. "That technology has been a personal project, and probably one of my proudest accomplishments. Between you and I, that is saying a lot." He was still sporting a huge smile.

Edward gestured toward the door. "Let's get going with this tour. James really wants to get back to some work around here after lunch, and he doesn't like it when I keep him waiting."

Sam didn't budge from her position. She insisted that Edward explain what was going on with Taylor. Edward looked at her cautiously, but figured now was an appropriate time to start planting the seed about the inhabitants of The Commune. Taylor was, after all, one of the easier cases to explain.

"In terms of what you would understand, Taylor has a form of synesthesia." Edward started to explain. Sam's face turned slightly in confusion.

"I think I need something simpler." She said. Edward smiled sympathetically.

"For lack of a better explanation, his brain converts language into music." Sam started to slowly process what he was saying. Edward continued. He explained that though Taylor heard everything, his brain interpreted language as music. Taylor was capable of hearing normal words but he heard them as tones, rhythms, and melodies that represent the meaning of what was said. When Taylor came to The Commune, he couldn't communicate and was very angry. He had been trying to express himself for years, but no one could understand. It made him frustrated and violent. Members of The Commune found him at a state-run hospital in Michigan. He was labeled autistic, with savant syndrome. Edward's first program started simply as an alphabet on the keys of a piano, with the thought that he could spell out words on the keys. But it didn't work.

It seemed completely logical to Sam. "What was wrong with that?"

"Specific notes don't represent letters like in an alphabet. It is more like ASL. Certain combinations evoke a certain emotion or mental image. I started showing him images and he would play tunes. I used a computer program to analyze the patterns. This last version is more intuitive and allows him programming capability."

"Can he only communicate with the videos?"

"He could probably figure out a way to assimilate sounds to tones in speech and learn to understand sentence structure and grammar. I am afraid that at the end of the day he will find that beneath him though. Language only gives us a limited number of letter combinations and words to describe an infinite universe. To learn to speak would be an insult to his gift."

"His gift?" Sam had never heard of someone's disability being described positively.

"He can play you the song of a butterfly in flight. He can hum the tune soldiers storming the beaches of Normandy. He can show you the intensity of a storm over the ocean. It is a gift." Edward spoke of Taylor's talents with such high regard that it was impossible not appreciate what he was saying.

"But he can't talk with other people." Sam imagined a life where she could not speak with other people. How would she manage? An unexpected, small feeling of understanding came over her. She knew there were many ways to communicate. Over the course of life, she had learned that people are constantly communicating. Sometimes it was through words, but more often it was through actions, subtle body cues, and their own emotions.

Edward watched her intently as he continued. "Today he managed to make you think of one of your happiest childhood memories."

"That's a little presumptive, don't you think?" Sam was upset that she had been so easy to read.

"You were thinking about a beach. When you were listening to the song, I saw you go away for a moment. You smiled a bit. You were remembering something happy."

"It was a trip to the beach with my parents, my real parents. I don't remember a lot about it. Just visiting the water. It was probably my last happy memory. " Sam thought back to her parents. Their faces were mostly lost to her, but she could still hear her mother's voice. She could still remember the smell of her father after a day at work. That trip to the beach was one of the last things she remembered doing with them at all.

"I think he did more than talk to you then."

Sam was speechless. On a fundamental level, Edward was making sense. Taylor had a wonderful, beautiful gift. He had brought about a memory that had been secretly hiding for years. She would have to thank him for that the next time she saw him. But this conversation had gotten too deep. It was time for a change and to figure out where she was.

"And James?" Sam was not very subtle but Edward did not act bothered by the change in direction.

"He's complicated."

"How so?" Sam realized that James was someone Edward did not want to talk about now. Edward had a week spot that Sam just exposed. She would have to explore that further. People did tend to give away too much to her anyway. For once she might actually use it to her benefit.

"We will get to James later. Let's get this tour over with, shall we?" Edward reached out his hand to Sam. She took it, and let him pull her up from the chair. Sam was ready to see where she lived and what was really going on here.

"Coffee and some breakfast first?" Sam asked with a smile.