He would have been a great man, if not for that. He was really very bright—exceptional, they said.
He could have been a genius..." She picked up a scrub brush.
"Excuse me now. I've got to get things ready. My daughter has a young man coming for dinner, and I've got to get this place clean."
She got down on her knees and started to scrub the already shining floor.
She didn't look up again. She was muttering to herself now, and I sat down at the kitchen table.
I would wait until she came out of it, until she recognized me and understood who I was.
I couldn't leave until she knew that I was her Charlie. Somebody had to understand.
She had started humming sadly to herself, but she stopped,
her rag poised midway between the bucket and the floor, as if suddenly aware of my presence behind her.
She turned, her face tired and her eyes glistening, and cocked her head.
"How could it be? I don't understand. They told me you could never be changed."
"They performed an operation on me, and that changed me. I'm famous now. They've heard of me all over the world."
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