by N. K. Smith
Stephen would have bought David any new car he’d wanted, but David insisted on this old 4x4. He found it on an online auction site and went all the way to western Ohio to rescue it from some old man’s barn. Although he was nearly always occupied with school or Rebecca, David spends every spare moment and dollar working on it. He liked to stay busy.
“Jane, next year you and Elliott can fight it out over which car you drive to school, but until I graduate, I’m driving. Dad said so.” David always called Stephen “Dad.” He’d only been adopted two years before the two of us, but he always seemed much closer to Stephen than Jane or me. “And do you know why he said so?”
“Shut up, David,” Jane whined. I was sure she didn’t want to hear it again.
“Because you’ve already gotten two tickets and backed into that car and you’ve only had your license for a year!” Jane could never produce an excuse for her lead foot, but it had been one of her episodes that made her zone out and back into that car. To be honest, Stephen would probably want me to drive us to school next year anyway.
“Oh! The new girl starts today,” she reminded us.
I groaned and immediately wished I hadn’t.
“Dude, don’t start. You already had the conversation with Robin and Dad.”
It took place the night before.
“It will be good for you, Elliott,” Robin said, smiling her shrink smile at me. “At some point you’re going to need to build relationships with people who aren’t in your family circle.”
I shook my head, my eyes darting to Stephen for help. He knew what I was and wasn’t capable of, and he would defend me against this highly ridiculous course of action.
“She’s right, Elliott,” was his soft reply, and my face fell.
“From what I’ve heard, Sophie Young has had some similar experiences to yours. You could help her. She could help you.”
“You want to get better, don’t you?”
I hated when Robin did that; when she indicated that she thought I was not right to begin with. “B-b-but I’ll have to t-t-talk to h-her and wh-wh-what if I…”
“You won’t get any better at communicating if you don’t try, Elliott. I realize that David and Jane have a tendency to enable you by finishing your sentences, but they won’t be around forever, so it’s best for you to begin standing on your own two feet now.”
My jaw tightened as I remembered. I hated her insinuation that I leaned on Jane and David. I never asked them to take up for me or help me in any way. It wasn’t my fault that it was easier for them to finish my sentences than to wait the five minutes it took me to get out a five-word question.
But now I would have to be “paired up” with the Young girl and I had no choice. Of course, neither did she. I didn’t even know if she’d been informed yet of the arrangement. As far as “similar experiences,” I didn’t know why that would be important in the least. If it was true, then she wouldn’t want to talk about it either.
The Scout stopped and I realized that we were already in the school parking lot, next to Rebecca. David and Jane opened their doors, but before getting out, David turned around and looked straight into my eyes, like he did every morning before school.
“Don’t take crap today, Elliott. If Anderson says anything to you, pop him in the mouth. Dad won’t be mad. He knows that little prick deserves it.”
David very rarely said anything bad about anyone, but he really disliked Chris Anderson, even though they were both on all of the sports teams together. Every day, David would tell me to stand up to Anderson, to hit him or something, but the thought of actually getting into a fight terrified me more than Chris’s verbal abuse. I wasn’t necessarily afraid of him because honestly, I could probably take him if my thick mind didn’t paralyze me first. All I could do was nod. I knew David didn’t want me to “take crap,” as he so eloquently put it, but we both knew that today would be no different than any other day.
As I exited the Scout, Jane moved quickly to join her boyfriend Trent who was practically jogging to meet up with her, as Rebecca made her way to David. Both Trent and Rebecca said good morning to me, and I nodded my good morning to them as well.
I didn’t know Trent that well, but Jane loved him, so I accepted him. We never spoke much and although he constantly got in trouble for fighting, he was always nice to me.
I walked behind them, not really wanting to be a part of the conversation.
As usual, I went straight to my locker after splitting off from the others. Most of my days repeated in the same fashion, not much deviating from the day before. But today wasn’t like that. Usually I could avoid the attention of Anderson by walking far enough away that he didn’t notice me, but today he was walking with Connor Hamill and the new girl. Of course, I didn’t even realize she was there until I ran right into her. My head was down as usual, and for whatever reason I failed to see their feet as they came toward me.
I ended up knocking into her, sending paper flying and her bag to the ground. Hamill didn’t seem to pay me any attention. He was typically decent like that, but Anderson had a field day with it. He never missed an opportunity to make me feel like dirt, especially when there was someone else around he could impress by putting me down. Today it just happened to be Sophie Young.
She was beautiful. I couldn’t help but stare a little. Her light eyes were incredible juxtaposed with her dark hair. I’d never seen anything like it.
She appeared to accept my simple apology for running into her and didn’t seem to appreciate Anderson’s attempts at pointing out my stuttering issue. When David came around the corner, she instantly backed away from Anderson. I didn’t know if it was to indicate that she wasn’t “with” him or because she was frightened of David, who could look intimidating. Usually he was friendly and everyone liked him, but he had expressions in his arsenal that could make people nervous. He was big, and just imagining the raw force he could use to hit something was scary. Still, I hoped Sophie backed away because she didn’t want to be associated with a moron like Chris, and not because of David’s intensity.
Even before the confrontation was over, she grabbed her things and walked off. I was thankful because nothing was more embarrassing than having your big brother force someone to apologize to you, except your big brother force someone to apologize to you in front of the pretty new girl.
I wished, as always, that David would see that no matter how much he thought he was helping me, he really wasn’t. He couldn’t be with me all of the time. If I was just allowed to ignore Anderson, he would have at least gotten bored with it all by now and found a new person to humiliate. But since David kept sticking up for me and forcing Anderson to apologize, I was sure he thought I sat around and cried about it.
All morning, my mind wandered to Sophie Young. Now that I had seen her, Stephen and Robin’s little plan seemed to be even less plausible than before. How in the world would I, stupid and stuttering Elliott Dalton, be able to communicate and have actual conversations with her? It seemed impossible. Even if I didn’t usually stutter, I doubted that I’d be able to get through a conversation with someone so pretty without stammering.
That wasn’t even mentioning my social anxiety disorder. Robin thought the medications were effective, and maybe they were, but they didn’t do enough. The only difference between now and before I started taking those pills, was that I no longer had violent breakdowns before, and during school. Those had been fun. The only thing that used to calm me down was Jane’s voice.
We’d been adopted at the same time and for whatever reason, she was the only one who’d ever been able to talk sense into me when my mind closed down. She was an angel like that.
Now I would be forced to not only associate with Sophie Young, but talk to her too. I tried to calm myself down from the rising panic I felt by reminding myself that I had until tomorrow to figure out ho
w to talk to Sophie Young.
I watched her during study hall. She’d been sitting by herself, but then Anderson’s group joined her and she hadn’t looked pleased. When she looked over at our table I looked away, and then suddenly she was up and crossing the library, looking more confident than I would have ever felt in a new school.
Then she left with Jason Fox. Jason Fox of all people. I didn’t have anything against him. Well, except for the drugs he used and sold.
Sophie and Jason didn’t return, and when she came into the greenhouse after lunch, I nearly fainted. The only open seat was next to me and Mr. Reese had promised it would stay that way, but apparently just like everyone else, his promises meant next to nothing, because Sophie came and sat down next to me.
I tried to calm down by telling myself this would get me used to being around her. After all, tomorrow I was going to have to spend even more time with her. As she sat down, I could smell that she’d been smoking marijuana.
It made me think of my mother; not Stephen’s ex-wife, but my real mother. I did my best to push that back, instead trying to concentrate on breathing.
Mr. Reese betrayed me a second time as he called on me with a question about soil microbes and I had to answer. Of course, my slow mouth and mind couldn’t figure out a way for me to not sound like a stammering idiot. I could always hear myself think without the stutter, but the moment I pushed air through my voice box, it got stuck.
I was used to the snickering when I had to speak in front of people, and for the most part, all of these kids were used to it and no longer found it funny. But Chris Anderson wasn’t one of them. He had to turn around and say “V-v-very g-g-good, D-D-Dalton.” Truthfully though, I wouldn’t have minded as much if I hadn’t been sitting next to Sophie.
Then as Chris laughed in my face, Sophie told him to stop being a dick. It actually made me a little happy that she would do that for me, even though she didn’t know me. But when I thought about it some more, the happiness faded. I was such a loser that the new girl had to stick up for me. It was embarrassing. I had no idea what someone like Sophie Young thought of me, but she had to know by now that I was an incredible loser.
As soon as the bell rang, I didn’t linger after class, not wanting a typical run-in with Anderson to show Sophie how truly inept I was; at least any more than I had already.
I went to the administration office and sat down, relieved to see only a few other people. I was here for my appointment with the speech pathologist. Every Tuesday and Thursday, I had to finish out my school day with a session with Ms. Rice. She was nice, and typically our sessions consisted of either talking or reading. Even after all the years of coming to Ms. Rice or people like her, my stuttering never got any better. I was sure Robin and Stephen were convinced that I wasn’t trying hard enough, but no one wanted me to speak normally more than I did.
As usual, Ms. Rice came out and got me after about five minutes. Once we were situated in the small office, her chair next to mine, she gave me a quick smile. She never sat behind her desk. I supposed it was to make her seem friendly. Perhaps I was supposed to see her as someone equal to me and trustworthy, but she had no speech impediment and probably never knew a day of ridicule in her life.
“So, Elliott, how’s the day going for you?”
I shrugged my answer, but knew immediately that she wouldn’t approve. She tilted her head and just waited, so I took a deep breath and said, “F-f-fine.” I could tell she still wasn’t pleased with my response, so I sighed and continued. “P-p-p-p-pretty normal.”
Smiling, she handed me a book. It was orange and small, and I knew exactly which one it was.
“Have you been practicing?”
“Yes.”
“Would you like to start?”
“N-no.”
Again she smiled, taking the book back, flipping it open to the page she wanted me to read, and then handing it back. “Just relax, okay? It’s only the two of us and no one else is listening. And look,” she said, holding up her hands, “no notebook.”
She had stopped taking notes while I read when I told her it made me nervous. “F-fine,” I said with a sigh.
“Relax. Let your mind tell your voice box what sounds to produce, and let your mouth do what it needs to in order to let them come out naturally.”
Taking a deep breath, I looked down at the book in my lap, feeling frustrated. I hated this page. I wondered if a normal person could get through it without issues.
I tried.
I failed.
Stupid fox. Stupid kid’s book. Stupid Dr. Seuss with his impossible words and rhythm! It had taken an insane amount of time for me to get those twenty-five words out.
I looked up at Ms. Rice and I knew anguish was written all over my face because that’s what I felt. “Don’t look so down, Elliott. You improved there at the end. You stopped the prolongation of the word ‘fleas’ and there were little to no blocks in the entire paragraph. Your repetitions are what we need to tackle.”
I sighed, moving my eyes to stare out the window. It was just beginning to drizzle again.
“Elliott,” she said, drawing my attention back to her, “you need to work on relaxing. Being nervous before a sentence or a word makes it difficult for your brain to control your mouth.”
“I’m nnnnot nnnnervous,” I said.
“The prolongations in that sentence give you away. You need to remember that you have nothing to be anxious about. We’re just talking. Your entire body tenses up the minute you have to read.”
My hand moved up to my mouth and without really realizing it, I began to chew on my fingernails. I wasn’t supposed to do that, so as soon as I noticed, I threw my hand down to my lap. Ms. Rice was right about the nervousness, but I’ve never been able to tame it. Not even the anti-anxiety pills changed it.
Ms. Rice sighed and held out her hand for the book and I gave it to her, but all she did was hand me another one. It was green with a turtle on the cover. As much as I didn’t want to read aloud anymore, I knew that I could at least handle this book better. Before I could open it, she asked, “So what’s the one thing in the world that can make you relax?”
I didn’t have to think about it, but even as my mind clearly shouted the answer, my mouth botched it up. For some reason, I couldn’t get it to form the word. My cheeks ballooned as I tried to force it. My right hand clenched into a fist and I brought it down onto my thigh, hoping to kick-start my brain into working.
This was what Ms. Rice would call a “block.” It was possibly more frustrating than the actual stuttering itself. Most people had no idea how difficult it was to be able to think of a word or a sentence in your head, but have your body refuse to let it out. It was trapped in the thick cage of my mind. I sighed, my head hanging low.
“Relax. If you can’t get it out, stop trying so hard. Breathe and slowly release it.”
I did as she asked, but the word still wouldn’t come. We spent five minutes just trying to get it out. Finally, I again looked out the window and focused on the rain that slid noiselessly down the pane of glass. “M-m-m-uuuusic.”
Slumping down into my chair, I let my head fall back, my eyes tightly closed, thanking God for at least letting me get the one little word out, no matter how horrible it sounded when I did.
“Very good.” Ms. Rice’s voice annoyed me. It wasn’t very good. It was barely even mediocre. If it was very good, then I would be speaking in complete sentences in front of the entire school with my head held high. “So music relaxes you?”
I nodded and was thankful when she allowed me to get away with it. “Then what you need to do before reading or speaking is to think about the most relaxing music you know. Let that saturate your mind for a moment before trying to talk.” She nodded at the book.
“Pick a page. Listen to the music in your head. Relax, and t
hen read.”
I sighed and flipped through the pages until I found the passage I could read the best. Taking in a deep breath, I let the sound of Tchaikovsky’s Romance Opus 5 fill my mind and I tried to get lost in it. The office disappeared, Ms. Rice disappeared, and the book within my hands disappeared. Halfway through, I felt as relaxed as I was going to be, so I opened my eyes and looked at the words. I tried not to force it. I tried to just let my brain speak to my vocal chords and the muscles in my mouth without pressure.
Three words into the first sentence, my calm broke as I stammered over one tiny little word and after that, it was a disaster.
A hand ran through my hair and I lazily opened my eyes to see Jane sitting in the backseat of David’s Scout with me. I normally disliked being touched, but Jane’s was soothing. It always took David ten minutes or more to extract himself from all of his admirers, so we usually found ourselves waiting on him. Today, she had slipped into the backseat.
I could tell by the look on her face that her day hadn’t been much better than mine. “Can I borrow your English notes?” I nodded and looked at her quizzically. “All I remember is talking about Anglo-Saxon Beowulf something, and then the next thing I know Trent’s poking me in the side, telling me that class is over.”
“I-I-I’m s-sorry.”
“Did your day suck too?” I gave her a pointed look. “Yeah, it’s Thursday, isn’t it? So I guess you won’t be talking for the next two days?” she asked, giving me a little smile. I never felt like talking after sessions with Ms. Rice. “David told me what happened this morning with Chris.” I sighed and Jane nudged me with her shoulder until I looked at her again.
“If you won’t hit him, then I will. And he said Sophie was there! Oh my goodness Elliott, she’s cute, isn’t she?”
I scowled. Jane was overly excited at the prospect of a new friend, but I was annoyed she had to remind me that I had nearly knocked Sophie over this morning and then just sat around like a lump while a jerk like Anderson made fun of me in front of her. “Don’t worry. She won’t go out with him.”