People Speaking

One of my favorite books growing up was Goose Girl by Shannon Hale. I still love that book, and read it often. I won't ruin it for any would-be readers, but in this world, some people can talk to animals, the wind, water, etc, etc. It was wonderful and beautiful and for years afterward I was secretly convinced I could control the wind, and all I needed to do was develop my power.

In that book, in the entire series actually, the main antagonists have the gift of People Speaking. Basically, their voices are so soothing and pleasant they can bend people to their will. I knew better than to fully believe that the rest of those abilities were real, but I was pretty sure People Speaking was. I thought of Hitler, able to convince armies to do his bidding, and thought that that amount of charisma could only be explained by something like that. Years later, I was talking to my sister about that, and she agreed. And then she said something else.

"I always thought you had that," she said. "You made me believe the most impossible things. You still do. I was really angry with you for a long time because you didn't become a published author in high school. I really believed you would."

To her, it was a little anecdote. To me, it was a sucker punch. Me, like Hitler?!

Confused, concerned, I asked a few friends who had read the book what they thought. Their responses were instant.

"Oh, for sure. You were always so good at it!" one said.

"I want to say no, but yeah, you do," another admitted.

"You just have this way, people want to listen to you."

And on and on, to the point where I could no longer dismiss it as coincidence. My new coworkers would even comment on it sometimes. It terrified me. I felt that I was not evil, (at least not murderous, scheming evil) and that somehow, I would end up that way. Looking back, I could see situations where I had coerced my friends to do things they had no desire to do. One prime example is that I convinced a good friend to break up with her (abusive) boyfriend. She fought and fought, but I swayed her. She admitted years later she always resented me for it, even though she knew it was a terrible relationship.

That was scary. I had not intentionally 'forced' her to my will, but here we were, years later, and the bitterness she felt towards me had grown to the point where it destroyed our friendship. There were other situations, many more than I care to remember or admit, circumstances that at the time I had thought merely odd but now, looking back, I could see it. It just made sense.

So what could I do? I mean, I was not consciously holding sway over these people. I just...talked. And people listened.

Maybe that was the reason I went to work in a psych ward. "Calming aura," "Soothing voice," "Charm," these were traits I was told I had. So I went to work in a chaotic, messy field with kids who hardly listen to anyone.

But they listened to me.

Oh, not always. I am hardly that skilled. But enough. Enough so that I could talk a boy down from a fight, settle a girl's angry spirit. I pulled their greatest fears from them with kid gloves, treated them with respect. And maybe, somehow, that helped them. Maybe me telling them, with this supposed voice that can coerce many, that what happened was not their fault--maybe they began to believe it.

I can hope. I can believe that these qualities I share with many charismatic people who led thousands to their doom may save the souls of a few. I pray, and I hope.

And I talk.