“Missed me!”
“Ralph, get out of here! I’m dangerous in the morning, especially when someone wakes me up before dawn.”
“It’s time to get ready. We don’t want to be late.”
“Late for what?” Wes shouted in exasperation.
“For church.”
“Church?” Wes said stupidly. “What do you mean church? I don’t go to church.”
“I do.”
“Then go,” Wes shouted and pointed at the door. “But leave me alone.”
Ralph left with the grin still plastered on his face. Wes flopped back down, and his head smacked the mattress—his pillow was on the floor. Too tired to get out of bed and fetch it, he used his arm as a pillow and pulled the covers up over his head. He’d just settled back into the warm feeling that precedes sleep when someone else entered the room. This time there was no gentle shaking.
“Get up, we’re going to church,” Elizabeth said.
She sounded angry. Wes had taken a beating over invading Daphne’s privacy last night, so instead of shouting at her he rolled over and tried to reason.
“I don’t go to church, Elizabeth. I haven’t since I was a kid. Besides, Archie and Luis arrive today. If you want to take Ralph go ahead and go.”
“Daphne wants to go.”
Wes knew he had lost. There was more than enough residual guilt left from the night before to allow Elizabeth to manipulate him into doing anything. All Wes could do was lie there looking frustrated.
“You still haven’t read my reports, have you?” she said.
“I was going to do it this morning while you were at church.”
Elizabeth glared at him so Wes glared back.
“You agreed to honor their routines to protect their psyches. Daphne’s routine included church on Sundays.”
Wes was flustered and too sleepy to think clearly so he stumbled on.
“Why can’t you and Ralph take her?”
“It’s your project, as you so often remind me. Of course, if you want to turn over control—”
“Well, why so early? Isn’t church at eleven o’clock?”
“We’re going to the early service so you’ll have plenty of time to get ready for Archie and Luis.”
She’s clever, Wes thought. She made getting him out of bed at this ungodly hour seem to be for his benefit.
“All right, all right, all right! I’ll get up.”
“You have time to take a shower. The service starts at seven-thirty.”
Wes didn’t need an hour to get ready but knew if he stayed in bed he might fall back asleep, and he wasn’t going to risk more of Elizabeth’s wrath. So he showered and shaved and put on a shirt and tie and met the others downstairs. Ralph was wearing a blue suit that looked a size too big and a gaudy red-and-blue tie. The knot was twisted around and the narrow end of the tie was on top of the wide side. Daphne looked neat and prim in a blue checked dress with a white collar that she wore buttoned tight up to her throat. Daphne kept her head down and didn’t look at Wes, but Daphne never looked anyone in the eye so Wes didn’t know if avoiding eye contact with him was significant. He wouldn’t have looked at her anyway, since he was embarrassed and had trouble keeping the image of her naked out of his mind. Elizabeth was dressed in a simple blue skirt with a white blouse. Even in his foul mood he was attracted to her.
“It’s time, Ralph,” Elizabeth said. “Show us where the church is.”
“OK, I picked out a good one.”
Ralph took off with his long strides, Daphne trotting along behind. Elizabeth followed and Wes trailed. He was pouting and meant to walk behind her all the way to church, but she kept slowing so he could catch up and he finally gave up and fell in beside her. They followed Ralph down the block at a fast walk. Mercifully the yards were empty so Ralph made no detours. They turned at the corner where Ralph’s fraternity friends lived and into the oldest part of the neighborhood. Wes noticed that the fraternity’s yard was filled with debris and a beer keg.
The church was two more blocks and around another corner. It was an old brick church in a classic design, rectangular with a tall steeple. There were cars arriving and people filtering into the church. Many looked as sleepy as he did. Without waiting to see if they followed, Ralph strode into the church. A woman and a man stood at the door greeting those arriving. Ralph grabbed the man’s hand and began pumping it.
“Hello, how are you. My name’s Ralph and this here’s Daphne. Daphne’s my friend. She’s not my girl or anything. She’s pretty isn’t she? This here’s Wes and this here’s Elizabeth. They’re sperimenting on me and Daphne. Wes doesn’t go to church but Elizabeth got him to come. Gotta go.”
Relief spread across the man’s face when Ralph released his hand and moved on to the woman, pumping her hand just as vigorously. Daphne shook hands next, never looking up. Wes hung back, letting Elizabeth go first, and then shook the man’s hand. Wes’s face was red and the man and woman stared at him curiously. He knew they were wondering where this couple with the two retarded children had come from and what exactly they were doing to them. Wes was too embarrassed to explain. He followed Elizabeth into the sanctuary and was dismayed to see how far forward she was walking. He reached out and pulled her arm toward a pew but Elizabeth shook his grip and kept walking. Wes followed sheepishly, not wanting to make a scene in church. When they reached the front pew they found Daphne and Ralph seated at the end away from the pulpit. Wes sat next to Elizabeth, wondering why the front row? It looked like the service would be only half full and there was nobody in the first three rows but them.
A woman walked past and sat at the organ to the left of the end of the pew. When she started to play Wes was overwhelmed by the sound and looked up to see the end of the church filled with racks of pipes. It was a huge organ and Wes knew then why they were in the front row. Wes looked over to Daphne and saw her head tilted up, ecstasy on her face. The rich sounds of the organ were overpowering to Wes but to Daphne it was a narcotic and she was mainlining. Ralph grinned broadly. He had picked this church for her. Guiltily, Wes realized Ralph took better care of Daphne than he did.
The prelude ended and the pastor greeted the congregation. He was a young man with mahogany eyes and hair to match—good-looking, with sharp features and the build of an athlete. Wes imagined the youth group was packed with young Christian groupies. After a few announcements the pastor asked any visitors to introduce themselves and then turned and looked at Wes. Wes hesitated but Ralph didn’t.
“Hi, I’m Ralph and this here’s Daphne. This here’s Elizabeth and this here’s Wes. They’re sperimenting on me and Daphne.”
Ralph’s voice boomed out the word “sperimenting” and now murmurs filled the church. Wes sank lower in his pew in embarrassment while Elizabeth chuckled next to him.
“I see,” said the pastor diplomatically. “Welcome to our congregation. Are there any other visitors?”
Wes was mortified and barely heard the rest of the introductions. When they were done the choir sang, accompanied by the organ. Daphne’s head tilted up with the first chord, her face glowing through the entire hymn and then her head slowly sinking to her chest when it ended. Daphne responded to the hymn singing in the same fashion, but never joined in.
The sermon was part of a series the pastor had been preaching on stewardship. After the sermon came the offering. The plate came to Wes and he absentmindedly passed it along without putting anything in. Elizabeth dropped ten dollars in the plate and then handed it to Daphne, who dropped in two quarters. When it came to Ralph he put in a handful of change and then to Wes’s horror got up with the plate and walked back to Wes.
“I know you don’t go to church, so you don’t know how it works,” Ralph said loudly. “You got to pay something. Except it’s not like paying really, cause God don’t make you pay, but you should put something in. Me and Daphne put in some money we’ve been saving from Slurpees. Elizabeth put in a whole lot. Now you got to put something in. I got
an extra quarter if you need it.”
Wes heard laughter around him and felt his face flame. Quickly he dug out his wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, dropping it in the plate.
“Wow, that’s a lot,” Ralph said. “God will like that.”
More laughter behind Wes. Mercifully Ralph took the plate to the end of the pew and handed it to the usher.
The service ended with the Lord’s Prayer and the Gloria Patri and then the congregation turned to file out. Being in the front meant they followed the rest of the congregation past the pastor, who was shaking every hand. Wes planned on a brief shake and then a quick getaway, but the pastor introduced himself as Phil Young, and he and Elizabeth struck up a conversation.
“These can’t be your children, you’re too young.”
“Why thank you. No, we’re their guardians. We’re living just a few blocks away.”
“I know, you’re in the empty fraternity house. What was that Ralph said about experimenting?”
Elizabeth paused and turned to Wes, waiting for him to respond. Wes stepped forward, taking the pastor’s hand.
“It’s really just testing. Daphne’s a savant—”
“What’s her ability?”
Wes was surprised by the pastor’s quick understanding. “She’s a calendar calculator.”
“Fascinating. What’s your special ability, Ralph?”
Ralph’s face wrinkled up into its concern shape, and his arms folded across his chest. He leaned back and looked like he was thinking so hard he was in pain. Before he could come up with an answer Elizabeth spoke.
“His special ability is embarrassing Wes.”
“Yeah, bare-assing Wes,” Ralph said.
The pastor chuckled and Ralph joined in, hee-hawing even though he didn’t get the joke.
“Mind if I stop by sometime?” the pastor asked. “I’m interested in what you’re doing.”
The pastor looked at Wes when he asked, but his eyes drifted to Elizabeth before he finished the question. Wes glanced at the pastor’s left hand; there was no ring. Wes felt a pang of irrational jealousy. He had no relationship with Elizabeth, why would he care whether this pastor had designs on Elizabeth or not? He didn’t, he told himself, but still planned to discourage the visit, because it would be disruptive. Before he could answer Elizabeth accepted for him.
“Come by anytime. I’m sure Wes will be glad to show you his work and I’ll—”
The sound of music interrupted Elizabeth. Wes realized that Daphne was gone and led the way back into the church. Daphne was sitting at the grand piano playing and the sounds of “How Great Thou Art” reverberated through the church. Wes started forward to stop her but the pastor restrained him.
“I see she has more than one special ability. She plays beautifully.”
“She always played at the other church,” Ralph offered.
Some of the congregation drifted back in, coffee cups in their hands. Soon a small group had gathered, listening to Daphne play from memory. “Onward Christian Soldiers” followed, and then “Morning Has Broken.” When she finished her recital she stood, her head immediately falling to her chest. The audience applauded briefly.
“Remarkable,” said the pastor. “I hope you’ll bring her back next Sunday. Perhaps you’ll let her play in the service?”
“That won’t be poss—” Wes started to say.
“Of course we will,” Elizabeth said. “Daphne always plays in church. Just let us know what you want her to play. We’ll be back next Sunday for the early service again. Won’t we, Wes?”
“Yes,” Wes said reluctantly. Elizabeth shook the pastor’s hand again, holding it longer than necessary. Wes pulled her away and out the door. As they left the church he was hoping something would happen to keep him in bed next Sunday, and Elizabeth away from Pastor Young.
8
WHISPERS
Gil started through his relaxation routine, working through each muscle group, tensing then relaxing, until he felt no tension left. Then he repeated the routine twice more. Next he focused on his breathing, until even that could be filtered from his mind. Now clear, he searched again for the whispering voice—it was there. Gil hoped the voice belonged to one of the others, but Wes and Elizabeth had taken Daphne and Ralph to church and the others were still asleep. There was an urgency to the whispering, not the sound of a sleeper—at least he didn’t think so. Still unable to understand the whisper, he gave up, frustrated. He needed to know if the voice was coming from one of the others and reasoned that if he moved farther away from them the whisper should fade.
He tiptoed down the stairs to the living room and lay down on the couch, once again working through his relaxation routine. The voice was there—it was louder but still not comprehensible. The whisper tormented him. He was being teased by something just out of his reach and his interest was turning to anger.
Gil moved to the kitchen, trying to relax in one of the table chairs. It was too uncomfortable, so he put three of the chairs together and stretched out flat. It worked and when his mind cleared the voice was there, louder still. No words could be distinguished but the rhythm was more distinct and the breaks between syllables easier to pick out. He was closer to the source, but where now? Only the basement remained.
Gil went down the stairs into the basement. It was filled with old furniture, suitcases, boxes, and the debris of the fraternity that owned the building. There was little open floor space but Gil found a lawn chair and enough space to fold it open. He stretched out again and soon felt his mind clear and the voice return—but still the words could not be made out. It was most distinct in the basement, but why? Even without the words, he could distinguish emotions—there was a lot of pain in the voice.
Sounds of footsteps above distracted him, silencing the voice. Someone was in the kitchen starting the first pot of coffee—it was time to go. Gil was reluctant to leave. He was intrigued by the mysterious voice, but he was even more intrigued by this new ability. What was it, and how might he use it?
Two more savants arrived today and there was talk of running the experiment again tonight. Gil had to be sure he was a part of it. It would be easy to suggest his way in if it wasn’t for Ralph. Ralph would have to be dealt with.
9
LUIS
They found him at a Greyhound bus station in San Diego. Pinned to his shirt was a hand-scrawled note that said simply “My name is Luis. Please take care of me.” It was a slow news week and Luis made the local six-clock news. They dubbed him Luis Greyhound, because of where he was found. Physically he looked Hispanic and was likely an illegal, but with no family name to trace he was taken into the state welfare system.
A pediatrician estimated he was two years old, so they began counting his age from the day he was examined. The psychologists found he was nonverbal, even in Spanish, and they based their assessment on his behavior, which was well behind the typical two-year-old’s. Even simple holophrastic speech was absent, and he wasn’t ready to be toilet-trained. He was withdrawn, seldom making eye contact, so they labeled him developmentally delayed. At four Luis began to speak in one-word sentences, but only in response to questions. At five he was relabeled autistic.
Luis wasn’t difficult to work with, he was just asocial, and easy to place in front of a TV and forget. Forgotten for four years, he spent his days in an electronic blur. At eight he was transferred to the Winamakis, who had opened their home to foster children with special needs. They were young, enthusiastic, and idealistic—Luis was their first child.
Mrs. Winamaki enrolled Luis in special classes at the local school, and began home schooling. Luis had learned little, she reasoned, because no one believed he could. Optimism was Mrs. Winamaki’s special gift, and she set out to prove that the doctors were wrong about Luis.
Even under her patient tutelage, Luis never learned even minimal social skills. He spoke only when spoken to, and never volunteered an idea or even a feeling. If he was sick the first indication woul
d be vomit or loose bowels, never a complaint. He never asked to eat, or to drink, but would help himself to food or drink if meals were skipped. Her failures with Luis slightly tarnished her shining idealism, but she made up for it by discovering something that all the psychologists, social workers, and teachers had missed. Luis had a very special ability—he remembered virtually everything he was shown.
She discovered that Luis knew the alphabet, and, to her astonishment, that he could read. She discovered it by simply asking him to do it. It happened while she was reading him a story, which she did every day before rest time. Mrs. Winamaki’s allergies were acting up and her eyes watered, making it difficult to read. As active as a rock, Luis sat next to her, staring at the book, apparently oblivious of the story. But when Mrs. Winamaki put the book down to wipe her eyes he picked it up. Then she simply said, “You read for a minute, Luis.” As she wiped her eyes she heard his slow monotone voice pick up the story.
“The duck was sad. The duck was lost. The duck could not see his brother. The duck could not see his sister. The duck could not see his mother.” Without a single error, Luis finished the book.
Mrs. Winamaki introduced more difficult books, discovering that he would stop when he came to a word he did not know, waiting for her to repeat the word. Once told, he continued, always remembering the new word after that. Not once did Luis pick up a book on his own, reading only when asked. The teachers were surprised and enthusiastic at first, but there were many children with more potential, and taking Luis past simple reading wasn’t considered the best use of their limited resources. But Mrs. Winamaki had more time, more energy, and her boundless hope.
She began rewarding Luis with M&M’s for reading, which he would do all day long if she didn’t limit the candy. One day on a long car trip Luis became restless and began reciting the last book she had had him read. Once again the Winamakis were amazed by his letter-perfect memory. When no M&M’s were forthcoming, Luis stopped reciting, but as soon as they were home Mrs. Winamaki used candy to entice Luis to recall the entire book. As Luis retold the story Mrs. Winamaki followed along in the book—Luis made no errors.
Fragments Page 10