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"
You
wan
na
go
out
?
"
"
Wan
na
go
out
!
"
Gage
agreed
excitedly
.
"
Wan
na
go
out
.
Where
my
neeks
,
Daddy
?
"
This
sentence
,
if
reproduced
phonetically
,
would
have
looked
something
like
this
:
Weh
ma
neeks
,
Dahdee
?
The
translation
was
Where
are
my
sneakers
,
Father
?
Louis
was
often
struck
by
Gage
's
speech
,
not
because
it
was
cute
,
but
because
he
thought
that
small
children
all
sounded
like
immigrants
learning
a
foreign
language
in
some
helter-skelter
bur
fairly
amiable
way
.
He
knew
that
babies
make
all
the
sounds
the
human
voice
box
is
capable
of
...
the
liquid
trill
that
proves
so
difficult
for
first-year
French
students
,
the
glottal
grunts
and
clicks
of
the
Australian
bush
people
,
the
thickened
,
abrupt
consonants
of
German
.
They
lose
the
capability
as
they
learn
English
,
and
Louis
wondered
now
(
and
not
for
the
first
time
)
if
childhood
was
not
more
a
period
of
forgetting
than
of
learning
.
Gage
's
neeks
were
finally
found
...
they
were
also
under
the
couch
.
One
of
Louis
's
other
beliefs
was
that
in
families
with
small
children
,
the
area
under
living
room
couches
begins
after
a
while
to
develop
a
strong
and
mysterious
electromagnetic
force
that
eventually
sucks
in
all
sorts
of
litter
--
everything
from
bottles
and
diaper
pins
to
green
Crayolas
and
old
issues
of
Sesame
Street
magazine
with
food
mouldering
between
the
pages
.
Gage
's
jacket
,
however
,
was
n't
under
the
couch
--
it
was
halfway
down
the
stairs
.
His
Red
Sox
cap
,
without
which
Gage
refused
to
leave
the
house
,
was
the
most
difficult
of
all
to
find
because
it
was
where
it
belonged
--
in
the
closet
.
That
was
,
naturally
,
the
last
place
they
looked
.
"
Where
goin
,
Daddy
?
"
Gage
asked
companionably
,
giving
his
father
his
hand
.
"
Going
over
in
Mrs.
Vinton
's
field
,
"
he
said
.
"
Gon
na
go
fly
a
kite
,
my
man
.
"
"
Kiiiyte
?
"
Gage
asked
doubtfully
.
