Chapter 24

That sounded familiar.

But Calvin says we are all good at different things, so that when two come together, they complete one another. He is good at English, but not math. I always enjoyed numbers but could never memorize even the shortest literary work.

Calvin compares my voice to the sweetest trill of the Tennessee warbler, whereas Thomas related it to the grunt of a hog. One must never be vain, but it is wonderful to hear nice things. “Your beauty puts that of a sunrise to shame,” Calvin told me one morning, “and your strength is mightier than the tallest, broadest tree, to have overcome such an attack against your flesh and blood and your spiritual insides.” In his words and his arms, Goose, whatever Thomas made me feel years before was nothing but an ugly memory, one that will soon enough be completely gone.