Breath & Shadow
Spring 2025 - Vol. 22, Issue 2
"Say the Word"
written by
Joanna Baxter
Assume the position. Clamp headphones to right ear, my good ear. Keep perfectly still. Keep everything tight, but not too tight. Strain to quiet my pulse, my breath, my bowels. Pine for a ribbon, a medal, a shitty gold chocolate coin. Brace to win at this game the doctors have made me play every year since I was fifteen.
Say the word, Door
Door.
Chin pressed to chest. Eyes squeezed, tongue flat against roof of mouth. Body curled on edge of seat, elbows indenting thighs. Left hand wound tight whorls of a conch.
Say the word, Make
Mate.
The recorded voice is male and distinguished, intoned in the generous Transatlantic manner taught in posh American schools mid-way through last century. A rich, optimistic lilt of old-timey radio ads for Pepto-Bismol and Brill Cream. A sound for my parents, nearly extinct.
Say the word, ______________
Feet screwed firm into grey, industrial carpet. Breaths threaded between the give and take of the two-way microphone.
Say the word, Play
Repeat?
Say the word, Play
The voice is patient, polite. The voice is not the competition, it is the ref who drops the puck, it is the ball, the grass between the goal posts. Prescribed punishment even if I’m only ever playing against myself in this little soundproof box.
Say the word, Deaf
I think, I’m on to you, Old Sport, I think
Say the word, Deaf
Joanna Baxter is a graduate of The Writers Studio at SFU and is published in two anthologies including Better Next Year, edited by JJ Lee (Tidewater Press). She is a regular contributor to Alive and Maple health magazines, and is working on her memoir about surviving a disaster in the Bermuda Triangle. She lives in Vancouver.