Audiobook sample from book about family of autistic boy
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
British (England - Yorkshire & Humber) British (General) British (Received Pronunciation - RP, BBC)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Why is Daniel crying? Emily asks, Because I washed his train. I tried to smile to make a funny face. He'll be okay, I tell her. Daniel. Sure, she says to him, but he pays no attention. Do you think he's allergic to something? Steven asks. I think I don't want to tell Stephen what I think only had the train for half a minute. It seems to me Daniel cries more and more with each passing day for all sorts of bizarre and inexplicable reasons. I have no idea why. What do you think? Stephen asks. His voice sounds sharp, but it might be just because he's trying to be heard over the noise that it isn't normal. Stephen puts Emily down, telling her to get her Mickey Mouse. I want a word with that mouse, he says Mark Seriously, which sends Emily into fits of giggles. Then he squats next to me on the floor, putting his arms out for Daniel, who ignores him. That's the terrible twos, he says, in a manner that tells me that it's not a suggestion, but a declaration of fact. He's almost three, Stephen sighs. He's so used to my worries about Daniel that they must feel like a burden to him now. I could tell that this is the case, but I can't make myself react any differently. He gets up and goes back to the post, sifting through envelopes. After a moment or two, he says. Young Children cry. Isn't that what you're always telling me? But not like this? I spend every day with young Children. I see them at toddler groups. I see them at playgrounds. None of them are like Daniel. That's not why I say Stephen opens his mouth to say something, then smiles and shakes his head. It's a gesture that's meant to be what, exactly? Sarcastic. I am not making this up, Stephen. I tried to stroke Daniels back, but he pulls away from me. Daniel, Honey, he will not let me touch him. Hold him. And yet he's crying, as though something awful is hurting him, as though a B has just stung him or some other acute and private pain has taken him over. I have to resist the urge to pull off all his clothes and look at every inch of his body to ensure that nothing is wrong, that there's no swelling or redness or bee sting, for that matter. The only thing that stops me is that I know I will find nothing. You see, I've done all this on other occasions and I've never found a thing. Just leave him, says Steven. He studies a bill, turns it over, and I can tell from the way that he's looking that he is tallying up the numbers. He'll be fine, he said. Absolutely. I can't leave him. He's not fine. Stephen rubs his hand over his mouth, draws a breath. What is it at Toys R Us that could possibly cost £200? He says, holding up the bill. Toys? I say I look at Daniel. This is all wrong. He's crying. It's what kids do. You always tell me that, but this is not what kids do. Daniel is pushing his head against my calf and now dragging his forehead along the floor. I think we should buy shares in Toys R Us, Stephen says, picking up a new bell from the pile, slitting the envelope with his car key, Stephen Mhm. I feel myself panicking a little. I know I ought to have some explanation in some sort of what you call it remedy for what's happening here, but I don't. Daniel seems to be using his head like a floor mop. What would other mothers do? They all seem so capable, so commanding. But it seems to me that all they ever argue about with their Children is why the broccoli is left on the plate or or why the child can't find their shoes. Nothing like this. Daniel is hysterical, and I'm feeling not too far behind him. And now, to my horror, he's not only dragging his head across the floor but pushing it down into the carpet, although trying to hurt himself on purpose, which is only making him cry more. Stephen. Look at this. But just then Emily appears at the bottom of the stairs, holding up a Mickey Mouse and smiling. Stephen says Daniel has a headache. That's all I notice. He's looking at Emily when he says this. It's as though he cannot bring himself to see what I am seeing in front of me. Daniel is pushing his head into the corner of the room and pressing it there with every ounce of strength that he has