Finding Her Voice

Such proved to be the case, with a minimum of assistance from him. The essay would turn out to be the best piece of writing Lou-Ellen had submitted to him. With her permission, he kept a copy of it for posterity.  Her final mark of A+ was well-deserved. She was quietly gratified by the admiration of her classmates.

Voted to her surprise school valedictorian by her peers, she had suffered from laryngitis on the night she was to give her speech, and it had had to be delivered by the Principal. It was well-written and topical, but revealed nothing personal about its author, let alone her inner torment. Not for her, thought her teacher, the garrulous and embarrassing self-disclosure of popular celebrity culture, the insincere platitudes of posturing narcissists, opportunistic politicians pre-eminent among them, basking in the limelight, drinking in with greedy gulps the attentions of adoring fans. She was, as she said, no ‘exhibitionist.’ In the frenzied gaiety that was the graduation ceremony, Matthews missed the chance to say a heartfelt farewell to her. But somehow he felt in hindsight that it was likely that she preferred the silent personal valedictory address she left for him in a note he found on his desk the next day.

“Dear Mr. Matthews,

I guess I lost my voice, I mean my ‘outer’ voice of course, once more last night. I know I’ll find it again. I always do. Thank you for respecting my wishes. I will not have you to help me on the next stage of my journey, but I do have a good friend in William, better known as ‘WILL’, surname ‘POWER.’ He has been my inner voice and mainstay, has never deserted me, and I know I can depend on him, just as I was able, in our brief time together, to depend on you. My gratitude is everlasting. Farewell. Think well of me, as I will of you. / Lulu. “

Yet, Matthews reflected, you had agreed to “stand on a stage and spout.” Then came the sudden revelation: she didn’t do so, not in the end. Perhaps the ‘laryngitis’ was sham, and deserved her frequent jokily arch use of ‘inverted commas’ suggestive of disdainful disbelief. She had written the words, but she had not spoken any of them herself. It would be just like her to remain enigmatic, perhaps only ever really comprehensible in her writing, guarding her personhood from unwanted intrusion. He would never know if she had deliberately shunned the spotlight. But if she had, his admiration knew no bounds.

He would keep an eye out for her first published appearance, but he wondered if he would ever hear her inner voice again. Some writers, after all, keep secret their identities from their public by means of pseudonym– ‘Mark Twain’, ‘John Le Carre,’  ‘George Eliot’ among many others;  all had their own reasons for concealing their true selves. Would she become one of them herself, or would her early promise fade away, with a loss of interest in later life?  Idle speculation of course, all of it. He knew he would always ‘think well’ of her.

She had now moved on, and so, with some regret, did he. It was the nature of the job, after all.