Tahoe Silence

by Todd Borg

  Marlette was crying the soft tears of someone who is lost and confused. She turned in the doorway and walked inside.

  We sat at her dining table. She had her elbows on the table, her face buried in her hands. Her muffled voice was hard to understand.

  “I didn’t know it at the time, but I was pregnant when I met Shane. When I figured it out after Silence was born, I didn’t see that any good could come of telling him. We’d all thought he was her father, me included.”

  “Back up. Who is Silence’s biological father?”

  “Before I met Shane, the cleaning service I worked for sent me out on a job cleaning in the physics department of UC Berkeley. It was two days a week. I liked it better than cleaning houses. Working around scientific equipment was more interesting than working around litter boxes. Anyway, I met a graduate student named Michael Warner. We were not in love. But we eventually began an affair of sorts. It was a relationship of conven-ience more than anything else. Someone to go have pizza with. It sounds unusual, a physics grad student dating a cleaning girl. The thing is, Michael was very shy. He probably thought it was easier to go out on a date with a maid than with another student. He often said how remarkable it was that he could talk to me about physics.”

  “Not many people interested in physics,” I said.

  “Oh, I don’t get it at all. It’s a strange science. Michael would tell me things and I couldn’t remember any of it even five minutes later. Except some of the names for things. The physic jocks – that’s what Michael called them - they have a very unusual sense of humor. I still remember the names of quarks, not that I have a clue what quarks are. I remember that Michael said they are the building blocks of nature. Really tiny, I guess. Anyway, the different quarks are called Up, Down, Top, Bottom, Strange and Charmed. Is that strange or what?”

  “I think those physicists have fun,” I said.

  “It was no big deal for Michael when I met Shane and left town with him. Shane and I were married in a ceremony at Emerald Bay just a month later. When it later became clear that I was pregnant, we both assumed that he was the father. I’d always used birth control when I was with Michael and in the beginning with Shane there were a couple of times when I wasn’t prepared. So it just made sense. It was only after Silence was born that I began to think otherwise. Yes, she had some of Michael’s skin tones, but mostly it was her personality. Even with her autism I could see something of Michael in her and I could not see any of Shane.

  “I didn’t tell Shane. Maybe that was wrong. But at the time it seemed best for Silence that I keep my mouth shut. And it wasn’t like I had betrayed Shane in any way other than not telling him my doubts about his paternity. He knew that I was involved with Michael before I met him.

  “All these years later I’ve wondered many times if that was a mistake. Not that it matters, but there’s probably been millions of women throughout history who’ve been in the same position and faced the same questions, right? I have lots of company.”

  “Marlette,” I said. “I don’t judge you for any of those decisions. All I want is all pertinent information about Silence. I’ll keep it to myself as much as possible.”

  She nodded. “What else can I tell you?”

  “Tell me about Michael. Everything you can remember.”

  “Michael was quiet. Other people thought he was shy. But I realized he was simply not social. I suppose he was a little off in some way. Or maybe I should say he was different. Real different. I just figured that’s the way physics students are. But he was a very thoughtful man. Not attractive in any standard way. The opposite of Shane who has a big personality and is very exciting. But Michael seemed to consider the qualities of every little thing, things that the rest of us take for granted. This would be a dumb example, but the rest of us just accept that gravity pulls you toward earth, but Michael would wonder how it grabs hold of you to pull you down. Stuff like that. He has that kind of curiosity about everything.”

  “You met him in the physics building?”

  “Yes. I first met him in one of the labs. I came in to clean. He was doing some kind of electronic measurement or something on a machine. Like something in a science fiction movie. He watched graphs on a screen. He wrote in a notebook, typed on a keyboard, made some more notes. Like I said, I wasn’t terribly drawn to him, but I was struck by his quiet self-sufficiency. He was self-contained, very interested in things and processes, but not so interested in people. It was that, more than anything else, that I noticed in Silence from just after she was born. Of course, you could say that I was just equating autistic characteristics with Michael. But it was more than that.

  “Michael and I saw each other a lot in that physics room. One day I was leaving and he said he was about to lock up. We walked down the hallway together, him carrying a thick briefcase, me pushing my cart. When I got to my closet I asked him if he would like to have coffee or something. I thought he’d be embarrassed to be seen with a cleaning girl. But he said yes.

  “We ended up having coffee once or twice a week. He’d talk about his experiments. I’d talk about my dreams of owning a home someday.” Marlette looked around the rental house.

  “Did you ever stay in touch with Michael? Did he ever know your suspicions that Silence was his daughter?”

  “Yes to both. After I married Shane, I sent Michael Christmas cards for a few years. Shane knew he was an old friend and he was okay with that. That’s one of the great things about Shane. He is very trusting.

  “One day around the time Silence had her first birthday, Michael called me and said he’d gotten a teaching job. He was going to be an Associate Professor in Physics at Sacramento State University. He said he called because he knew I’d be pleased. And I was.

  “We got to talking for a long time and I ended up telling him about Silence. I said I thought he might be her biological father.”

  “How did he react?”

  “In a classic Michael kind of way. He was quiet and thoughtful. He said that the news was quite a surprise. He wanted to know what Silence was like. I told him about her personality, that she reminded me of him. I also told him about her autism. He expressed concern. He said he realized that he was out of the picture, but that if he could help in any way, financial or emotional, he would do so. He didn’t want to intrude, but he didn’t want to be distant, either. He said that he respected that Shane was Silence’s father in every important way. But he also thought that being Silence’s biological father gave him certain responsibilities.” There was a wistful look in Marlette’s eyes as she said it.

  “Do you wish you had married him instead of Shane?”

  “I don’t think so. Michael is very kind. I think he is the essence of a good man. But he doesn’t make your heart beat like Shane does. Yet, here I am, divorced from Shane, alone in most ways.”

  Marlette paused. “You know that Shane is back in Tahoe, right? Oh, of course, I saw you talking to him at the funeral. I don’t know where he’s staying. Somewhere nearby, I think. Of course, he’s thrashing over what’s happened. Even though Shane hasn’t been real involved with the children in the last few years, it was still very difficult for him when I called and told him the news. I don’t think he really likes Silence in a meaningful way, but he’s like anyone when it comes to having a daughter kidnapped. You just want to explode. You want to find the man who did it and rip his heart out!” Marlette was suddenly breathing hard.

  I waited while she calmed.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Hearing that Charlie was killed was so difficult for him. I think Shane is suddenly wondering what life is about that this kind of thing can happen to his own kids. But Shane goes to friends to sort things out, not to me.”

  “When was the last time you had contact with Michael?”

  Marlette swallowed. “As soon as you ask that, I realize I made a big mistake not telling you about Michael from the beginning. I called him just two months ago. But ever since I’ve been afraid of the world finding o
ut. I thought it would be best for all if Shane and everyone else still thought that Shane was the father. I knew that Silence couldn’t tell, and I was certain that Michael wouldn’t tell. So I haven’t told anyone except Silence.”

  “Why did you call Michael?”

  “Silence had been having problems with Shane whenever he came to visit. It started a year ago, and got worse and worse. She was stubborn and difficult around him. She wouldn’t do anything he wanted. He ended up yelling at her. That is the worst thing you can do to Silence. Her ears are so sensitive. If you yell at her she falls apart and won’t come out of her room for days. She won’t eat or even drink. The few times it’s happened I worried she was going to starve to death.

  “Anyway, Silenced started complaining about Shane. I suppose I’m to blame. A divorce is always hardest on the kids. But I thought it would just be Charlie who’d get upset. I didn’t see it coming with Silence.”

  “How does she complain?”

  “She makes her sounds. Sounds and certain movements. At first, I thought it was probably just normal teenager stuff. But it kept getting worse and she’d get very upset whenever she knew he was coming to visit.”

  “How often does Shane come by?”

  “About once every couple months. He stops by our house, then goes off to stay with friends. So with Silence getting very difficult around Shane, I began to wonder if she should know about her biological father. I knew it would be like opening a can of worms. But as soon as I had the thought, I started to think it might help. I knew Michael would be nice to her and maybe give her a better focus on life. Or at least, a different perspective.

  “I went round and round thinking about whether it would be a good thing. After another couple of visits from Shane, I could see that Silence and Shane were ready to explode. I kept worrying that Silence would run away again. Her behavior was so impossible I thought I’d lose her completely. She was out of control. The last time Shane visited, Silence made a terrible drawing of him looking like a devil. She threw it at him. Shane was real mad. He said he didn’t know when he’d be back or even if he’d be back. I was about to crack. Charlie needed his father’s attention even if it was only a little here and there.

  “I decided to introduce Silence to Michael. Things couldn’t get any worse. I thought that any possibility of improvement was worth taking a chance.

  “I called Michael. He’s still teaching at Sac State. I explained that I was losing control of Silence and that I wondered if he could meet her. I told him I didn’t want to bring stress into his life, but that I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “He agreed to see her?” I said.

  “Yeah. He was real nice and said he’d do whatever he could to help.”

  “You told Silence about him?”

  “I didn’t know if I could do it right. In a lot of ways I’m not a good mother to her. But it went pretty well. I took her out to lunch. When I could see that she was in a good mood, I told her the story from beginning to end. The truth, with nothing held back. Of course, I never know what gets through. When she doesn’t look at you and doesn’t seem to pay any attention, you always wonder.” Marlette gave me a look that seemed to be embarrassment. “In some ways, it’s like a truth serum, the way Silence is. You end up saying much more than you planned just because she seems to not be paying attention. My inner-most thoughts end up in words.” Marlette made a nervous laugh. “I should watch myself. Charlie always said that Silence hears and understands every little thing. I don’t know if that’s true, but I suppose it could be.”

  “Did you give her a reason for why you had decided to tell her the story?”

  Marlette nodded. “I explained that the first reason I wanted her to meet Michael after all these years was that I thought it might help her with Shane. I also said that the more I’d thought about it, the more it occurred to me that she might like her biological father.”

  “How did she take it?”

  “She took it very well. For Silence, that is. She stayed calm. Kind of intrigued. Although saying that Silence is ever intrigued is a stretch. But in her way she seemed interested. I think the main thing she wondered was if he was nice.”

  “How did she ask that? Is that something she does with sounds?”

  “She makes a high-pitched grunting sound and she has certain gestures. I’m not sure how to explain it. Whenever she’s worried about being around someone, she rubs her left arm. It’s her way of showing her anxiety. When I told her that her biological father was very nice she didn’t rub at all. If you watched you might not notice much. Like I said when I first talked to you, Silence’s utterances mostly sound like gibberish to anyone except Charlie. I get the gist of most of what she does. But Charlie – it’s amazing – you’d think she talks to him in words.”

  Marlette’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m talking about him like he’s still alive.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Reached for a tissue and blew her nose.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Anyway, between Silence’s movements and sounds, I usually get the meaning. I knew I could call Henrietta for help, but I wanted to keep the news about Michael as private as possible, out of respect for Silence and Shane. And Michael, too, for that matter.”

  “You told her he was kind,” I reminded her.

  “Yes. She seemed reassured to hear that. But she was most interested when I said he was a physics professor.”

  “Why do you think that was?”

  “I had no idea. I don’t think she knows anything about physics. But she does have a general interest in science. She’d rather collect rocks or leaves than watch TV. So I thought she was just intrigued that Michael taught science. Or it could be that the word professor made her interested. But I don’t know if she even knows what a professor is. The only times you can really tell if Silence knows something are when you see her do something concrete. Like loading the dishwasher. Then you know she understands what a dishwasher is. But with other concepts – I don’t know what it’s called – abstract ideas, maybe? Anyway, you can’t tell if she gets it.”

  “Did they meet?”

  “Yes. A month ago. We drove down on a Sunday afternoon. Michael wanted to show her his lab, and he said Sunday was when it would be least busy. I found where he said to park, and he was standing there waiting. I introduced the two of them and we talked for about ten minutes. Actually, Michael and I talked and Silence just watched. But she wasn’t as withdrawn as normal. Of course, I’d spoken with Michael at length before we drove down, so he knew something of how Silence acts. He shook her hand and said it was a pleasure to learn that he had a daughter and that he was pleased to meet her. Then he said that he didn’t have any other kids, so he didn’t really know what to talk about with a seventeen-year-old girl. But he said he’d like to show her his lab if she was interested.”

  “And she was.”

  “Yes, it was wonderful to see. It was like she became lit from within. She kind of glowed. So I said I had a book to read and I’d wait in the car and they should take as much time as they wanted.”

  Marlette smiled at the thought. “I tried to read, but I could only wonder what they would be talking about. I mean, what Michael would be saying to her. Then they came back out and Silence seemed more comfortable with him than most any adult. She actually walked next to him. Except for looking down to the side, she almost looked like a normal kid.”

  “I’ll need Michael’s phone number.”

  Worry flashed across Marlette’s face. “Yes, I suppose you do. Although I can’t imagine what he can tell you that will help. Should I call him to let him know you’ll be calling?”

  “No. Don’t call. I want to get a fresh perspective, not one that has been carefully prepared.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I’ll get the number.”

  THIRTY-SIX

  I had just enough time to get up to Glenbrook for my appointment with the pediatric neurologist. I wanted to ride the Harley, so I dropped Spot at
home. I fired up the bike in the loud mode, made the short ride up Highway 50 and turned into the Glenbrook. The guard at the gate leaned out the window of the guardhouse, staring at my motorcycle, her displeasure obvious.

  “Good afternoon,” I said, smiling. “Owen McKenna here to see Dr. Rhonda Netman. She’s expecting me.”

  The guard came out and walked around behind me to write down my license plate. She waved me through.

  Although Dr. Netman’s house was modest by Glenbrook standards, it was immaculate and well-designed with maple floors, four-foot-wide doorways and a view of the lake from most of the rooms.

  A housekeeper took me through the living room, past an antique harpsichord that stood in front of floor-to-ceiling windows. We went into a large wood-paneled study where a woman sat behind a desk.

  “Hello. I’m Rhonda Netman,” the doctor said, standing up and coming around from behind her desk. She reached out to shake my hand.

  “Owen McKenna. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

  “Certainly. May I pour you a cup of coffee?” She walked over to a sideboard with a coffee maker and cups and a little tray of pastries.

  “Please,” I said. “Black is fine.”

  The doctor poured two cups, set them on the pastry tray and brought them over. She set the tray on a small table and we sat down on Queen Anne chairs upholstered in a fabric that looked like it was from an art tapestry.

  Dr. Netman was a large woman in her late sixties who could barely fit between the chair arms, yet she moved softly. She dressed like a professional woman from decades earlier. There were ripples in her nylons where her plump feet pushed into thin brown pumps. Her brown wool skirt rose up almost to her knees when she sat, thick knees held primly together. She wore a matching wool blazer over a high-necked white blouse. Her gray hair was pulled back into a perfect bun, held in place with a golden hair clip. She was a lesson in how style and attitude trump physique. Her size not withstanding, she radiated grace and femininity, warmth and comfort.