Russell wasn’t sure how long it had been going on, but one day, in the middle of math class, he was aware that he was seeing subtitles.
As Mr. Michaud extolled on the virtues of the quadratic equation, Russell could see lines of text appearing at the periphery of his vision. When he tried to look directly at the text initially, it seemed as if they words were just disappearing, and led him to believe that he was hallucinating.
But no, he realized that if he just calmly kept his eyes on the speaker, the text would fade back up, and he could divide his concentration between actively listening to what was being said while part of his brain looked at the words, or rather, the words just allowed themselves to be seen.
“How long have I been doing this?” he wondered. “Am I a super-hero?” He grew giddy with the implications. “Okay, calm down… just be still… just be zen…”
He realized he had no idea what being zen was, but figured it had to be related to being still… so he grew still and just allowed himself to open himself up.
“Now,” said Mr. Michaud, “this portion of the equation is the discriminant, because it “discriminates” between the possible types of answer…”
He saw the words form… and his even, calm breathing hitched.
The subtitles were in French.
“What the fuck,” he thought he thought, when in fact his thought had been said out loud. The entire class was looking at him, open mouthed.
“Excuse me, Russell?” said Mr. Michaud. Pardonnez-moi, Russell? were the words Russell saw beneath his teacher’s red and angry face.
He had no idea what to do, so he feigned a faint, and as he hit the floor, he wished French was a superpower.
