Dr. Morton approached Christian in the canteen as it neared the end of the luncheon session. He was disappointed to see him on his own, and that no one had made an attempt to speak to him yet.
"Mr. Thomas?" he caught his attention.
Christian looked up from where he'd been spinning a bottle top on the otherwise empty table.
"We can go to your class now."
Christian hesitated with a sigh, before slamming his hand down onto the spinning top and grabbing his jacket before standing from the table. The doctor refrained from commenting, taking note that he wasn't at all resisting.
They made their way back to the workshop area, and Christian was directed to the smaller room the doctor had pointed out earlier. The room contained a single desk with two chairs, a couch, and a couple of filing cabinets. A man sat at the desk, but he rose to his feet when the door was opened.
"Christian, this is Mr. Mallory," Dr. Morton introduced them.
The man extended his hand, and Christian shook it tentatively.
"Please, take a seat," he offered, before stepping around the desk to the doctor.
Christian gave him an odd look, before sitting down into the opposite chair.
"We're having guards right?" he heard him ask.
"One in the room with you, the other waiting outside," Dr. Morton assured, "so far he hasn't been considered a threat. Don't worry."
Christian's eyebrows rose as he rubbed his neck, his back to them.
There was a moment of silence.
"How long should we go for?"
"I say three or four hours maximum, otherwise as long as you feel the need. We want him up to scratch as soon as possible."
"Ok, thanks."
Christian heard the doctor depart, before Mr. Mallory stepped around the desk again and took up the opposite chair.
"So... Mr. Thomas..."
"Chris," Christian offered, looking him up and down and noting how nervous he was.
"Chris... ah... We can start by doing some simple exercises, just to see how much you actually do know. Forgive me if you breeze through it, but I do need to check everything..."
Christian shrugged as the man began sifting through some paperwork.
"How are you with the alphabet?" he asked carefully.
"I don't know," Christian replied truthfully.
"Have you seen it written out?"
"Not recently."
The man sifted through some more paper, seeming rather disorganised, before he found what he was looking for. He set the chart on the table in front of Christian, then leant forward.
"Do you know what all those letters are?" he asked, adjusting his glasses.
Christian focused on them, frowning slightly in concentration.
A was for America... B was for Boston... C for Connecticut... D for Detroit... E for Eureka... F for Florida... G for Germany... H for highway... I for Illinois... J for Jefferson City... K for Knoxville... L for LA... M for Minnesota... N for New York... O for Oklahoma... P for Philadelphia... Q for Queens... R for railway... S for San Diego... T for Toronto... U for Utah... V for Vegas... W for Washington... X marks the spot... Y for York...
"What's that one?" Christian pointed to the last.
"Zed."
"Ah, right," Christian nodded, "now I know them all."
"Do you know all the sounds they make?"
"Probably not."
"How were you remembering them?"
Christian hesitated, scratching his arm awkwardly.
"Place names. Signs. Places I've been or seen from afar," he admitted, "I have to recognise the names or I'd get lost."
"How did you learn them?"
"Someone would say the name for me and show me the word. If no one was around who knew I'd ask someone to pronounce it for me."
"Is that how you learnt most of what you read?"
"Not really, my... father taught me most of it," Christian suddenly found it hard to say.
"Craig Morrison?"
Christian didn't reply.
"Ah... moving on. So you know place names. Is there anything else in general you know a lot of words in relation to?"
Christian shrugged again.
"Just usual stuff. Filling out forms and such."
"For example? What kind of forms?"
"You know..." Christian looked uneasy, "ones for accomodation and travel. Anything like that."
"How are you with numbers?"
"Numbers aren't a problem," Christian insisted, "I know basic math. I'd definitely be screwed if I didn't."
"Do you remember the most you've had to write?"
"At a time?" Christian rose an eyebrow.
He hesitated, trying to think.
"I don't know," he admitted, "an address I guess."
Mallory nodded, before sitting back again.
"I'll start you with some somewhat basic words and see how we go. If you decide you need pictures to help you, well... we have those. Just ask."
Christian nodded.
"Ok."
Mallory leant over to the cabinet and pulled out some more cards, these ones with full words on them - only up to five letters maximum.
"Read it out if you recognise it," he instructed, beginning to place cards on the table.
Christian watched them for a moment, skipping the first few. When Mallory saw him concentrate he hesitated, but if Christian shook his head he'd move on.
"Road," Christian said suddenly, almost making Mallory jump.
"Good," the man nodded, "let's keep going."
They went through something like fifty random cards, Christian not getting much more than Name, Date, Man, Girl, Boy, Food, Take, Rail, Away, Hill, Duck, Lake and other obvious words most often found on signs.