The Weight of Silence. Heather Gudenkauf
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for me to be out of the way when Dad came home.
Do you remember the night of the “talking lessons”? Last fall, when you were in first grade, and Mom was out, went to some meeting with your teachers, I think, and we were left home with Dad. He thought it was ridiculous, all this to-do at school because of you not talking. He started out all excited, saying, “Calli, you wanna do something nice for your mom?”
Of course you nodded, all happy. Dad had you come over to him where he was sitting in his favorite green chair and sat you on his lap. You looked at him, just waiting for him to tell you what great surprise he had for Mom. Dad looked so glad that I came over and asked if I could help surprise her, too.
Dad smiled. “That’s nice, Ben, but this is something that only Calli can do for Mom.” Then he looked to you. “Calli, wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could tell Mom you love her? That would make her so happy, and me, too.”
All of a sudden, your face got all sad, because you knew Dad just asked you to do the impossible. Dad said, “Ah, come on, Calli, you can do it! Just make your mouth say Mom.”
You started shaking your head and squinching your eyes up tight. “Come on, Calli, say it. Mom.” He stretched his lips out wide while he said the word, like someone trying to get a baby to talk.
You kept your eyes shut and your lips squeezed together. “You can do it, Calli. Don’tcha want to make your mom happy? Mmm-ahhh-mmm.”
You were having none of it and tried to hop off Dad’s lap. “Oh, no, you don’t. Come on, Calli, say it. Say it!” he shouted. He held you on him with one arm and grabbed your face with the other, trying to force your mouth into a shape to say the word.
“Stop it,” I said, real soft. But he kept right on going, even though you were crying, but not making any noise. “Stop it!” I said louder and this got Dad’s attention.
“Go on outta here, Ben. Me and Calli are just having a talking lesson. Go on now,” he said.
“Stop it!” I yelled. “Leave her alone! She can’t say it, she can’t do it! If she could, she would’ve already! Leave her alone!” I know. I couldn’t believe it myself. You stopped crying and both you and Dad looked at me like Martians had landed or something.
“Stay out of it, Ben. Go on to your room,” he said in a quiet voice, but I knew he meant business.
“No. Leave her alone, she can’t do it!”
Dad stood up real quick and dumped you on your butt to the floor. And I yelled, “Run, Calli!” But you didn’t. You just sat there on the floor and looked up at us.
“Fabulous,” Dad said all huffy. “I got a retarded mute little girl and a smart-ass know-it-all boy. Fabulous. Maybe there’s another way to get her to talk. Stand up, Calli.”
You did, quick.
“Ben here thinks he has all the answers. Thinks that you can’t talk. Well, I know different, because I remember when you could talk. You yapped just fine. Maybe you just need a little incentive to get that mouth of yours going.” Then Dad swung out at me and hit me in the back of my head, about knocked my block off. You covered up your eyes again, but Dad pried your fingers down to make you watch. Then he belted me a few more times, in the stomach, on my back.
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