Yu’s oldest sister took Yu to school after that; his mother could not bear to do it. That was fine with Yu. He had felt his mother’s hand grow cold over the last few years, and although he was treated well, something he couldn’t understand had come between them—something he had done. There was still warmth in his sister’s hand, though, and he clung to it gratefully on those cold walks to school. It was the only human comfort he received from breakfast to bedtime.
After a second year in kindergarten Yu was passed on to first grade, still deficient in even basic skills. By now his mother had lost interest in his education and refused to come to school conferences. When the school insisted, Yu’s older sister went and listened to Yu’s teachers and the school psychologist recommend a special-education program. Then it was Yu’s sister’s turn to sit in the kitchen and hang her head in shame and tell her parents what was said. That was a terrible night for the Tran family. The grandparents were called and Yu’s aunts and uncles. The meeting went on all night but by morning they had a plan. Yu would not be enrolled in the special-education program. Instead the family would pool its resources and send Yu to a residential school. It was expensive, but family honor was priceless.
Yu clung to his oldest sister the day he was to leave. He cried and pleaded with her, promising to be a good boy if he could stay, but all she could do was hug him and wipe away his tears, promising to write to him and visit whenever she could. Then she handed him an album she had put together with pictures of his family. The first page was a picture of her and Yu.
She wrote every week and the staff faithfully read the letters to Yu. He didn’t understand much of what she said about her life, it was so different from his, but he felt the warmth behind the words. One day a letter came that the staff did not read to him. Instead, they took him aside and asked him if he knew what death was. Yu began to cry for his favorite sister and was unable to answer. When he was told it was his mother who had been killed in a car accident, relief swept through him and he smiled. That smile at the mention of his mother’s death was noted in his record and worried the staff for years.
Yu was well cared for at the Riverview Residential School. Unlike state institutions, it was well staffed and he received personal attention. Riverview wasn’t like a home, not even the best institution could be, but as in a family there were periods of joy and periods of sorrow. Yu’s first year was all sorrow as he mourned the loss of his home and family. Riverview was too different for an eight-year-old to adjust to easily, and Yu became sullen and hostile. The staff was patient, however, and Yu slowly accepted his fate, and adjusted to Riverview’s routine.
Three months after Yu’s arrival a young woman was hired to work with his unit. Her name was Suni and she was short and lithe like Yu’s sister. When Suni first came to him she held out her hand and smiled. Yu hesitated, but when he took her hand warmth rushed through him—something he hadn’t felt since his sister visited last. Yu went willingly with her, and after that Yu could always be managed by Suni.
Suni never replaced Yu’s sister in his heart but she was Yu’s security blanket at Riverview. Whenever Yu became morose, or hostile, he was left for Suni to handle. Eventually the staff realized that Yu was becoming manipulative and using his fits of anger and depression to keep Suni near. So one day they transferred Suni to another unit. Yu became depressed and refused to eat. At the end of a week they were forced to choose between force-feeding Yu or bringing back Suni. Suni came back the next day. Yu quickly regained his strength but he was never quite the same. He had withdrawn when Suni left—withdrawn into a place deep inside his mind—and never made it all the way back. Suni still comforted Yu, but he couldn’t quite forget that she had abandoned him, just like his family.
By the time Yu was ten he had learned personal hygiene skills and could wash, dress, and feed himself. He had learned to keep his room clean and tidy and became compulsive about it. Everything had a place and everything was kept in that place. When something new, like a sweater or a toy, was given to Yu he would either reject the present or select something in his room that was removed to make space. When someone returned something to Yu’s room they would always ask, “Where is the place this goes?” Yu would direct them to the place and supervise its placement.
When Yu was eleven he began to show remarkable skills at calculating. Yu had learned to add and subtract simple problems, but showed poor ability. But when they introduced multiplication Yu showed an affinity that surprised his teacher. Yu quickly learned to multiply through twelve, and his teacher wanted to stop there because he reasoned Yu would have little use for more complex math. But Suni insisted they test his limits. They introduced more complex math problems to Yu, which he quickly mastered. Soon Yu’s ability to compute exceeded the abilities of his teachers.
Over the next year Yu’s mental math skills continued to develop, and Suni called Yu’s father to come and see what his son could do. Reluctantly, his father came, bringing his oldest daughter with him. Yu clung to his sister’s hand through the visit. “Show me,” Yu’s father demanded as soon as he had arrived. Suni gave Yu the math problems, having him divide and multiply three-figure numbers, multiply fractions, and compute the volume of cubes. Yu’s sister applauded in delight and Yu basked in her approval. When the demonstration was over Suni turned to Mr. Tran and asked him if he was proud of his son. Mr. Tran glowered at Suni and then turned to Yu and asked “If a man comes into our store to buy a gallon of milk and pays two dollars and seventy-nine cents, how much change would he get from three dollars?” Yu rocked in his seat, looking perplexed, and then said, “I don’t know.” Mr. Tran started to leave but Suni stopped him.
“Yu,” Suni asked, “what is three hundred minus two hundred seventy-nine?”
“Twenty-one,” he replied.
Mr. Tran was unimpressed. “Are you finished?” he asked, and then got up and left. Yu’s sister pried her hand loose and kissed him a tearful goodbye.
Everyone expected Yu to sink into depression and become difficult to handle, but he surprised them by continuing to develop his calculating skills and soon could multiply and divide six-figure numbers with great accuracy. Shortly after his twelfth birthday Yu demonstrated a new skill.
It was afternoon break time and Yu and the others in his unit were parked in front of the projection screen TV in the recreation room watching Disney cartoons. Suni was sitting on the couch working a crossword puzzle and called out to a coworker for help.
“What’s another word for disobedience?”
“Mutiny,” came the reply.
“Starts with an r.”
“Revolt,” replied the voice.
“Not enough letters. I need nine.”
“Rebellion,” Yu said quietly, without taking his eyes from the cartoon.
Surprised, Suni found it fit. Then she picked another clue and read it to Yu.
“Someone who teaches, nine letters, starts with a p?”
“Professor,” Yu replied, his eyes still glued on the antics on the screen.
“No, it doesn’t fit. The third letter is an e.”
“Preceptor.”
Suni had to retrieve a dictionary to confirm that a preceptor was a teacher. She brought the dictionary back with her and began testing Yu’s vocabulary. For “transparent” he gave synonyms of “translucent” and “diaphanous.” For “treasurer” he gave “bursar,” “receiver,” and “steward,” and for “traveler” he responded with “wayfarer,” “vagabond,” and “nomad.” Suni had never heard Yu use these words in his own speech, and wondered where he could have ever heard some of them.
Suni studied Yu after that, trying to understand where his remarkable vocabulary came from. He read at about a fourth-grade level, and then only when pressured to do so. He never picked up a book voluntarily, and certainly never one that would have words like “wayfarer” or “preceptor” in it. No, Yu was not a reader, but he was a listener. Suni soon realized that Yu listened intently to everything that wen
t on around him. He listened to the staff, to the radio, to visitors, and to the TV. It didn’t matter if it was two janitors talking about the latest basketball scores, or the teachers discussing their patients; Yu drank in every word. Yu also soaked up the radio and TV. Whether it was Donald Duck, Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune, or the nightly news, Yu gave it the same intense attention.
Suni began exploring Yu’s verbal abilities and found them inconsistent. If Yu was asked for a synonym of a word like “good” he would respond with “benevolent” or “virtuous.” But if asked for an antonym of “good,” he couldn’t even give the common response of “bad.” Nor could he define words. He was limited to finding words similar in meaning to the keywords. If you asked him to define the words he would merely shrug and stare at his shoes. If you persisted he would get angry.
The teachers marveled at Yu the human dictionary, but Suni pointed out he was more of a thesaurus than a dictionary. Yu helped solve many a crossword puzzle after that, and his lexicon grew as he learned from dozens of puzzles he helped solve. Suni thought of calling Yu’s father again to have him come and witness this new marvel, but decided she would explore his abilities first. Mr. Tran was a hard man to please.
Suni brought in a variety of word games for Yu and found he was completely confused by word-search games where words were hidden among other letters. Scrabble and Boggle were also beyond his comprehension, and he just pushed the letters around aimlessly. One of the teachers brought in a calculator game where the answers to math problems on a calculator spelled out words. The game combined Yu’s math ability and his vocabulary skill. Suni watched as the teacher gave the first problem to Yu.
“What did Amelia Earhart’s father say the first time he saw her flying an airplane by herself? To get the answer, Yu, you use the calculator. Here, I’ll show you. First you multiply three times point-oh-two-three.”
“Point-oh-six-nine.”
“Yes, Yu, that’s correct, but let’s do it on the calculator. There, now we add one-oh-one-four-one to the result.”
“One-oh-one-four-one point-oh-six-nine.”
“Let’s do it on the calculator. Now we multiply that by five.”
“Five-oh-seven-oh-five point-three-four-five.”
“Yes, but look at it on the calculator. Now watch. We turn the calculator upside down and you can read the answer. What did Amelia Earhart’s father say the first time he saw her flying an airplane by herself? Read the answer. Let me help you. See, the five looks like an S and the four looks like an h and the three looks like an E. If you read it across it says ‘she solos.’ ”
Yu showed no interest. Suni realized it was at the same time too simple and too complex. Yu was as fast as a calculator so he had no use for them in the first place. Then, to get the answer, which was also a punch line to a joke, Yu had to be able to see the numbers as poorly formed letters. He was too precise to do that.
One day after finishing the crossword puzzle in the paper with Yu’s help, Suni noticed that a word-scramble game had been added by the paper. Taking a blank piece of paper, she wrote out the scrambled words in big black letters and then took them to Yu. Suni put the scrambled words WOLOFLS, TEBSI, TRYSMEY in front of Yu.
“Yu, these words are mixed up. Can you tell me what the words are?”
“ ‘Follows,’ ‘bites,’ ‘mystery,’ ” Yu said.
Suni tried mixing up her own words with similar success. Suni shared this new ability with the teachers and staff, and soon Yu was helping solve scramble games as well as crosswords. Suni puzzled over Yu’s three abilities, calculating, finding synonyms, and unscrambling letters to make words. She could see no connection, however, so she continued to search for more word games for Yu.
One day the newspaper ran a contest to win a trip to Disney World. The task was to find one word that linked three other words. In the example they gave the words “sixteen,” “potato,” and “heart.” The one word that linked all three words was sweet: “sweet sixteen,” “sweet potato,” and “sweetheart.” Suni found Yu in his room straightening things that were in perfect order.
“Yu, I have a new game for you. I will give you three words and then you need to give me one word that connects all three. I know that’s confusing, so let me give you an example. If I gave you the words ‘sixteen,’ ‘potato,’ and ‘heart,’ then one word that would connect all three would be ‘sweet.’ ‘Sweet sixteen,’ ‘sweet potato,’ ‘sweetheart.’ ”
“ ‘Suite of rooms,’ ” Yu said.
“That’s a different kind of sweet. I know it sounds the same. Just give me one word that connects all three. Now try this one: ‘house,’ ‘dog,’ ‘sauce.’ ”
Yu swung his head back and forth, in confusion. Suni waited patiently, giving him a chance to figure out for himself what she was asking. A minute later Yu began scuffing his shoe on the floor—it meant he was getting agitated.
“It’s ‘hot,’ Yu. ‘Hothouse,’ ‘hot dog,’ ‘hot sauce.’ ”
“ ‘Hot rod,’ ‘hot plate,’ ‘Hottentot.’ ”
“Yes, Yu. Those all have the word ‘hot’ in them too. Let’s try another one. Find one word that goes with ‘port,’ ‘shell,’ and ‘gull.’ ”
Suni waited, and as before Yu stared at his feet. Then softly he said, “Sea.”
“That’s right, Yu. Very good. See if you can do this one: ‘cross,’ ‘side,’ ‘out.’ ”
This time Yu answered with almost no hesitation.
“ ‘Walk.’ ”
“That’s right, ‘crosswalk,’ ‘sidewalk,’ ‘walkout.’ ”
Yu did four more without error and Suni knew he would seldom make an error after that. This new ability seemed so unlike the others that it puzzled Suni. Yu’s huge vocabulary was essentially a recognition memory, and his mental math skills were strictly computational. Neither of those abilities could explain the kinds of remote connections he was making between words in this game. Of course, the biggest puzzle of all was why Yu could calculate large problems in his head with lightning speed, have a world-class vocabulary, and make linkages between seemingly unrelated words, and yet couldn’t speak more than short sentences, or read above a fourth-grade level.
Suni was still thinking through the mystery of Yu when he looked up at her and said, “ ‘Cracker,’ ‘water,’ ‘jerk.’ ” Suni smiled in return. He was giving her a problem to solve. Yu’s eyes were focused somewhere just below her chin, but he was holding the focus, clearly expecting an answer. Suni thought but couldn’t get the connecting word.
“I don’t know, Yu. What word connects all three?”
“ ‘Soda.’ ”
“Oh, I get it. ‘Soda cracker,’ ‘soda jerk,’ ‘soda water.’ That’s very good. Can you do another one?”
“ ‘Trigger,’ ‘pin,’ ‘cut.’ ”
“Wait, I think I know. Is it ‘hair’?”
Yu nodded but didn’t speak.
“ ‘Hair trigger,’ ‘hairpin,’ ‘haircut.’ ”
Yu nodded again and then said, “ ‘Note,’ ‘master,’ ‘horse.’ ”
Suni was stumped again and said so.
“ ‘Quarter.’ ”
“Another good one, Yu. I never would have gotten that. ‘Quarter note,’ ‘quartermaster,’ ‘quarter horse.’ ”
Suni played the word game with Yu for twenty minutes, amazed every second at what he was doing. It was the first time she had seen him produce any original thought, and she was sure now that Yu’s father would be proud. Suni called him the next day but had to plead to get his father to visit again. Finally he agreed and came two weeks later to see his son’s progress. Again his oldest sister accompanied her father and Yu lit up when he saw her. All through the visit Yu held her hand.
Suni demonstrated Yu’s vocabulary using a crossword puzzle. Yu’s sister praised Yu, but his father only glared and looked impatient. Suni hurried on to the word game.
“Yu, tell me what word connects ‘shot,’ ‘board,’ and ‘skin.’ ”
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p; “ ‘Buck,’ ” Yu replied.
Yu’s father stared, his foot tapping out his impatience. Yu’s sister thought for a moment and then said, “I get it; ‘buckshot,’ ‘buckboard,’ ‘buckskin.’ That’s very clever,” she said, and squeezed Yu’s hand. Yu blushed.
“Now, Yu,” Suni continued, “give your father and sister one to try.”
“ ‘Town,’ ‘write,’ ‘dance.’ ”
Suni waited, watching Yu’s father and sister. His sister’s eyes shifted left and right, searching for the answer, but Yu’s father only stared.
“I don’t know what it could be,” his sister said finally.
“ ‘Ghost.’ ”
“I never would have guessed, Yu. ‘Ghost dance’ makes it a very hard one.”
Suni was going to continue, but Mr. Yu had heard enough.
“I gave up a day of work for this . . . for tricks!?”
“Don’t you see, this is very special. Yu is making these problems up. He’s being creative. This is a major step forward for Yu.”
Mr. Tran snorted and then turned to his son.
“You are to file the bills for Mrs. White and Mrs. Cramer. Whose bill would be first in order?”
Yu hung his head in response and looked at his shoes. A minute later he began scuffing his feet on the floor.
“That’s not a fair question,” Suni protested. “It’s too hard for him. If you explain what he needs to do I’m sure he could put files in the right order. He knows the alphabet.”
“Call me when he can file, and make change, and stock the shelves.”
“He’ll never be able to work like that.”
“Then don’t call me! Ever!”
Tears welled in Suni’s eyes as she watched Mr. Tran storm out of Yu’s room followed by his tearful sister. Suni never called Mr. Tran again.
A year later Suni left Riverview. She tried explaining to Yu about her pregnancy but he seemed oblivious and was completely unprepared for the day she didn’t come back.
Yu was hostile and violent for a week after Suni left, and the staff feared they would have to sedate him. Then one morning he got up and began pacing around his room. Around and around he went in circles. Keith, his new unit counselor, watched but didn’t interfere. Then, without a word, Yu came out of his room and began walking the perimeter of the recreation room. After several circuits he began walking the halls and in and out of all the rooms. Keith followed him, trying to understand his new behavior. When Yu came to a locked door he became agitated and Keith used his passkey to let him in. Room by room Yu paced the complex. The administrative staff balked at first when Yu came to their offices, but Keith asked them to be patient, and Yu walked the perimeter of each office. When they had gone into every room in the place, Yu walked to the door. Keith hesitated but decided to let his behavior run its course. Yu walked out and down the steps and then along the outside of the building, walking behind the shrubbery where he could. He walked around the entire building and then went back inside and up the stairs to his room, where he sat down on his bed. Keith watched as Yu slowly relaxed.
Fragments Page 13