The Color of Silence Read online

Page 4


  Was I ever soft and new, someone my mother wanted to hold close and breathe in and kiss? Or was I always stiff and hard to hold, so that she decided to stop trying?

  I wonder what it would feel like to hold a baby in your arms and kiss its tiny cheek. What would skin so new feel like? I imagine it would be softer than anything I could imagine.

  I don’t think I could ever have a baby. I don’t imagine my body would do a very good job of growing one. Besides, I know how that’s done. Debbie told me all about it. Most people are so afraid of breaking me that they won’t even give me a hug.

  But I think about it anyway. I have these feelings deeply buried somewhere inside that tell me it would be such a wonderful thing to create someone brand new who would be my very own. It makes me feel a bit sad sometimes.

  I think I’d like to be a mom.

  I hear about mothers in books and see them in movies. They love their children no matter what. They spend their time taking care of them and making sure everything is all right. They kiss them and hug them and tuck them in at night.

  I’ve had workers like Brenda and Patrick who seem to really care about me, but that’s not the same as a mother,

  I don’t think.

  Did my mother kiss me or hug me before she sent me away?

  She gave me a necklace. Is that like a kiss or a hug?

  Does my mother ever think about me now? Do I even still have a mother? Do I have a father? Do I have sisters and brothers?

  Sometimes, late at night, when I’m almost into my dreams, I have a flickering little feeling that my mother is somewhere out there, wondering how I am and hoping that she will see me again someday.

  It might be hard for her to find me, though, because my necklace and I have moved around a lot. First there was the children’s hospital where my mother left me and then I think

  I lived in another special hospital for a while when I was still very young. Then there were two different group homes with lots of hospital visits mixed in.

  I don’t like moving around much.

  The first group home was quite nice. Only five kids there all together. I was small when I first moved there. I wasn’t much bigger when I left, but I was quite a bit older. I didn’t want to go, but they decided that I couldn’t stay there because I cost too much to care for properly. I was moved to a home for children who needed constant care. All of us were porcelain puppets who had to be moved carefully, so as not to be broken by a careless puppeteer.

  I don’t want to be a puppet. I want to hold my own strings and decide when I want to dance.

  At first I didn’t want to go to the new group home. But once I got there, I really liked it. Everyone was kind and understanding. Life was full of people and places and things to do.

  It became home.

  Debbie told me that she lived in her own house with her parents when she was a baby, but then she was in a car accident that left her paralyzed. She still lived at home for quite a while, but when she got older, her parents had trouble taking care of her and decided she would be happier in a group home.

  Debbie mostly seemed happy there. But I know she missed her parents. She was always super happy to go home on the weekends. And sometimes, late on a Sunday night when she got back, I could hear her sniffling in her bed.

  “Hey, kid! You look like you’re daydreaming your day away!”

  Patrick comes over to my bed and leans over. His sparkly brown eyes look like they have something exciting to share. Before I discovered my rainbow, Patrick was the only thing that brought any color to this place. I definitely have to choose a stone that will store my Patrick memories for me so I can find him again when I leave the hospital. I wonder when that day will come. I’ve been here so long this time that I’m starting to wonder if I’m ever going home.

  “So, I have some great news for you!”

  I knew it! I smile at him and he grins back.

  “You are going to have a new visitor. I think they said she’d be here a couple of times a week to start. Her name is Alexandra, and she’s seventeen, just like you.”

  I can feel my eyes opening up as wide as they can go.

  A girl my own age! I wonder if she’ll talk as much as Debbie. Even if this girl talks half as much, it will be more than enough for me!

  “I knew you’d be excited. I haven’t met her yet, but I’m sure she’s awesome. She’s coming tomorrow afternoon. I’m on shift, so I’ll do my best to be the one to introduce you. I’m heading off, but I’ll check in later.” He touches me on the top of the head and gives me another big grin before leaving to brighten up someone else’s day.

  I can hardly believe it. Someone new is coming to see me. Every week! I hope she likes to talk about herself. I haven’t seen someone my own age since I left the group home. I feel like I don’t really know anything about girls my age. Real girls who don’t live in books anyway.

  I hope she’s nice!

  I hope she’s someone who will really see me.

  Chapter 7

  “And then I open my mouth to sing and, instead of notes, a big gross croaking noise comes out and everybody laughs at me like I’m some kind of stand-up comedian.”

  “That’s your big nightmare? Thinking your voice will come out like a frog? You think that’s original or something?” Cali is laughing at me.

  “Well, you just don’t understand because you never have to worry about it. Your voice is always perfect.” I’m hurt. I bare my soul to her, I share my deepest fears, and she laughs.

  “Actually, I know it’s hard to believe, but I am human. Even though I was named after the daughter of a Greek god.” She lifts her arms like wings and does a little spin, flinging herself dramatically down on the bed. “I am a poetic muse!”

  “Or an old instrument made out of train whistles on a cart. Which would be my vote, Calliope.” I always thought Calliope was a great name for Cali. It’s a very loud instrument. And she’s way too noisy to be anyone’s muse.

  “Well, your vote doesn’t count. And please don’t call me Calliope. I’m saving it for my stage name. And speaking of stages, as I was saying before you rudely interrupted, I do worry sometimes before a performance that I’ll screw up. I never dreamt

  I was a frog or anything, but I’ve often had this dream where I get up on stage and all of a sudden I’m in my underwear.”

  I burst out laughing.

  “You’re supposed to imagine everyone else in their underwear, not yourself! Besides, if you ended up in your underwear, everyone would think you looked great.”

  “Now you’re just being rude. I’m pretty sure I gained three pounds last night after we ate that junk food at the mall. Look at the way this dress fits. Yours looks so much better on you. We might have to go shopping again. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to fit into my new jeans for the party. Which is in three days, by the way, in case you conveniently forgot.”

  She rolls off the bed and stands looking at herself in the mirror. I’m not sure where those three pounds are.

  “I remembered. I have it circled in red on my calendar. Whose party is it, anyway?”

  She looks at me like I just lost my mind.

  “You’re kidding. Everyone is talking about it! It’s the party at Cory Bellevue’s place. You know who he is, right? He lives in the almost-mansion up in the Greystone Estates. He has an indoor pool and a huge game room and everything. It’s going to be super cool.”

  Cory Bellevue? Of course I know who he is. Every school on every TV show I’ve ever seen has a Cory Bellevue. The It Guy that every girl in the school has a crush on, whether she admits it or not.

  “Cool? Try terrifying. I’m definitely going to end up puking on Cory’s shoes.”

  “You aren’t going to puke on anyone. I promise. You’re such a nutcase. Come on, you can admit it. You’re
getting excited about it.”

  “I don’t know if I’d say excited exactly. It could be fun. I just don’t do the party stuff as well as you do.”

  “I know. But I need you there, so you’ll just have to learn.”

  “What do you mean, you need me there?”

  “Because of Matt Wainfield. You know him, right?”

  “I’ve seen him around.”

  “Well, what do you think of him?”

  “Um, I guess he’s cute.” I’m trying to remember what he looks like, but I’m still thinking about Cory Bellevue and the fact that I might have to talk to him.

  “Kind of cute? Are you kidding? He is totally gorgeous.

  The perfect guy in every possible way. Tall, built, nice eyes, smart, nice personality. Everything perfect.” She sighs and flops down on the bed. She rolls over on her back to stare at the ceiling. That would be a boring thing to do in most people’s rooms, but not here. Cali has about hundred glow-in-the-dark stickers up there. I can see most of the solar system, a large variety of unicorns and fairies, quite a few butterflies and dragonflies, and a few shapes that I think might be Dora the Explorer.

  “So, you like him? Does he know?”

  “No! I need him to notice me and make the first move.”

  “Seriously? What would your mom say if she heard you talking like that?”

  “She would tell me that any relationship is an equal partnership and that both partners are equally responsible for making the first or second move.” She says it like she’s arguing a court case. Which is exactly how her lawyer mother would say it.

  “So why don’t you ask him out?”

  “Because I’ll feel like an idiot if he says no.”

  “Good point.”

  “Do you think guys feel like idiots when we say no?”

  “Probably.”

  “So you think I should ask him.” She turns to look at me.

  “I didn’t say that. Seriously, don’t ask my advice on this stuff. I’m not exactly Ms. Experienced in the whole guy thing.”

  “You went on dates last year.”

  “A date. Singular. Doesn’t make me an expert. I think it makes me a beginner.”

  “You’re right. I’m not going to ask you for any more advice.”

  “Good. So, are you going to ask him out or not?”

  “I don’t know. He’s so cute. He probably has, like, a dozen girls after him.”

  “Maybe you should ask him to the party and leave me out of it.”

  “Not a chance. I need you to stand beside me and protect me from saying or doing anything stupid.”

  “OK—because that’s always worked before!”

  “You can be sarcastic if you want, but you have this way of looking at me that tells me when I’m being stupid. Most of the time I ignore you, but this is important.”

  “I could even tell you right out loud if you want. I don’t mind.”

  “You are so not funny!” She takes a pillow and smashes me over the head with it. Hard.

  “Ow! Cali! I think you broke my neck!”

  “Don’t be a baby. It looks fine.”

  “It doesn’t feel fine.”

  I stand rubbing my neck.

  It doesn’t actually hurt.

  It didn’t actually hurt back then either.

  But if it was broken, I’d be in the right place.

  I’m standing staring at the hospital where my community hours are waiting for me. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Does time pass in the present while you’re walking through

  the past?

  I have a meeting with the ward staff today to talk about this girl I’m supposed to be working with. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. How can I have a meeting?

  The building stands there in stiff disapproval, waiting for me to make a decision. People walk past me, weaving around me like I’m nothing but a traffic cone. Actually, they don’t even seem to see me. Maybe I’m not really here.

  I look at my phone, which tells me I’m late. Maybe I can pretend I forgot and just go home.

  But if I don’t go, Nelle will find out, and the people who hold my life in their hands will find out, and then everything will get even worse. I don’t care what happens to me, but I’m not sure my dad can handle any more crap.

  I force my reluctant feet to move up the stairs and into the building.

  I don’t like hospitals. They make me feel sick.

  I find one of those information desks, but there are strangers sitting there staring at me. I was hoping for some kind of computer system that answers all your questions in silence. Guess I’ll have to figure it out for myself.

  The ward she lives on is called 3C, so logically I should head for the third floor. I wander down the hall a bit, trying to figure out which elevator will get me to where I have to go. My shoes are loud, echoing down the halls and bouncing off walls. I feel like everyone is looking at me because I’m wearing the wrong clothes.

  I follow a small crowd of people who look like they’re in a hurry to get somewhere important. I’m hoping their volume will muffle my inappropriate noise. I slip onto the elevator, staying in the background, hoping that someone will press the number three so that I don’t have to step in front of the crowd and be noticed.

  The elevator stops on the third floor, and I follow a couple of scrub-dressed, silent-shoed people into a hallway. I stand for a second, trying to look like I know where I’m going, which is stupid because I’m staring at a paper with the ward number and head nurse’s name on it. I must look like some dorky tourist, stumbling around town behind a map.

  “Are you looking for Kathleen?” A voice comes from behind my left shoulder. I jump a little and look down at the paper again. Kathleen Lowes. I look behind me. There’s a very tall man standing there in bright purple scrubs. He’s what Cali would call totally hot, and he is smiling at me. I guess if I was thinking about such things, I would call him totally hot too, which makes me even more nervous than I already was. I don’t smile back, but I manage to make my head nod.

  “Well, follow me. She’s expecting you. I assume you’re Alexandra?” I nod again. I can feel my face getting a little warm. I wonder if that’s why they call good-looking guys hot.

  “Great. I’m Patrick. Well, I’m sure Joanie is excited to meet you. You’ll likely need twenty minutes or so with Kathleen first, but then I’ll bring you over to see her. Here we are.”

  He points me toward a small room and takes off before

  I can process what he said. Not that I’d ask him, anyway, but I’m shocked to find out that they’re expecting me to actually meet her today. I thought this was just an information meeting! Now they expect me to actually start working?

  “Hello, Alexandra. We’re glad you’re here. I’ll fill you in on Joanie’s background and then we’ll get you two started.”

  They’re glad I’m here? Didn’t Nelle tell them who I am?

  Then again, they think I’m someone named Alexandra.

  No one who knows me calls me that in the real world. Except my dad when he’s angry at me. Or teachers when they’re trying to be tough. And the judge who sentenced me to hospital duty.

  I don’t bother making any corrections. I just nod and try a polite smile so I don’t look like a total reject.

  The meeting with Kathleen isn’t as bad as I expected because she’s a talker not a listener. She tells me that this Joanie girl is seventeen and that she’s been here for a few months. That she has a neuromuscular disorder, which basically means she doesn’t have control over her own body. Which sounds like it really sucks. That she uses a wheelchair. That they think she understands a lot of what people say to her, but that no one really knows exactly how much. That you should just talk to her like you would to anyone else.r />
  Right.

  And the most interesting little fact.

  That she can’t talk.

  At all.

  The meeting is way too short, and all of a sudden hot nurse Patrick is back and leading me down the hall. My hands are sweating, and a swarm of butterflies just found my stomach.

  I’m not sure I can do this.

  But I don’t really have a choice.

  Besides, I’m pretty sure he would catch me if I tried to run.

  Chapter 8

  I’ve been listening to loud shoes coming down the hallway, tapping away like sticks on a drum. I like the sound of them stepping out a beat across the floor, telling me that someone is on their way.

  I really hope that whoever is wearing those shoes is on their way to see me!

  I hope it’s her!

  The drumming stops, and I see the door open out of the corner of my eye.

  “Joanie, I have someone for you to meet.”

  I try to focus on the two figures over by the door, but my head keeps turning back on the pillow so I’m looking straight up. My stones shine down at me, but I tell them that I’m not looking for a doorway out right now. Something interesting seems to be happening right here and I want stay so I can experience it.

  “Come on over here and I’ll introduce you.”

  It is her! I like her already because her shoes are so nice and loud. I hope the rest of her is loud too.

  I’m glad that it’s Patrick who is going to introduce us. Everything is nicer when Patrick is here.

  “Joanie, this is Alexandra. She’s going to be spending some time with you every week so you have a break from all of us boring old farts.”

  I laugh at Patrick as he brings a girl over to my bed.

  She doesn’t laugh, at least not out loud.

  I like people who laugh. I hope she has a sense of humor.

  I wish that I was in my chair. I prefer meeting people for the first time when I’m sitting up and my head is controlled for me. It’s easier to see into their eyes and figure out who they are.