Speak No Evil

by Liana Gardner

  “I’m sorry, Melody. The disruption never should have happened.” He ran a hand through his loose, curly brown hair. “And we’ll make sure it never happens again.” Rubbing his forehead, he sat in his chair and picked up the leather binder. “Now, where were we?” He glanced at his notes. “Right. I was getting ready to explain to you what I’ve observed while we have had this time together.”

  Melody stiffened and fidgeted with the charm hanging from the end of her silver necklace.

  “Now, don’t get all riled. You were calm before we were rudely interrupted. There’s nothing bad or upsetting about what I’m going to say.” He set the binder to the side and laced his fingers over his knee. “Based on your reaction to having the music player taken from you and the pendant you’re wearing, music is important to you. So, starting tomorrow, you’ll share it with me.” He grinned. “It’ll help pass the time.”

  She plucked at her shirt, straightening the wrinkles.

  “And you have an affinity for nature. Watching the squirrel, the shadows and light through the trees, the flowers bending in the breeze helped you relax.” He smiled. “Which is a good thing. I want you to feel comfortable here. Comfortable with me. We’re going to join forces and help you conquer your issues. I’m on your side.” He rose. “Session over for today. I think we did well.”

  Melody walked to the door and he opened it for her.

  Mrs. Langdon struggled to rise from the couch. “’Bout time. Let’s go, Melody.” She rummaged in the bottom of her purse for the keys. “I don’t know about your doctor’s bedside manner, but he certainly is a good-looker.”

  Melody cast a glance over her shoulder at the doctor as he closed the door with a smirk on his face.

  Chapter Four

  Spring 2015 – Melody, age 16

  Mrs. Langdon stumped into the office while Melody hung back in the reception room. “What’re you waiting for? The doc doesn’t have all day for you to decide whether yer gonna walk in.”

  Dr. Kane came to the door, shoved his hands in his jean pockets and cocked his head, inviting her in.

  Melody shuffled forward, pulling her arms in front of her to keep from brushing against Mrs. Langdon as she passed.

  Mrs. Langdon eyed Dr. Kane from head to toe. “You sure changed from yesterday, Doc.”

  The corners of his mouth turned down as he glanced at his tennis shoes. He shrugged. “Yesterday I had a speaking engagement. Today I normally don’t see patients, but Melody requires daily weekday treatment, so I came as is.” He tugged the collar of his form-fitting polo shirt. “You don’t like?”

  Mrs. Langdon sputtered. “Jeans don’t look professional.”

  He cut his eyes toward Melody. “I don’t think my patient minds whether I am professional looking.” He winked. “You’re lucky I wasn’t changing the oil in my car or working on my bike. I might have arrived covered in grease and wearing grungy clothes.” He held his arm out toward the door. “We’ll see you in two hours, Mrs. Langdon.”

  “Dory.”

  He continued to hold out his arm, showing her the way.

  “Humph. Well, I’ll say you haven’t made much progress so far. She didn’t say a single word last night.”

  Dr. Kane lowered his arm and peered through his glasses. “Mrs. Langdon, you haven’t tried to get Melody to talk, have you?”

  She drew herself up to full height. “I thought that was the whole purpose of her comin’ here. To make her talk.”

  He took a deep breath. “Mrs. Langdon, I’m going to say this one time and one time only. You are not to interfere with our work here by attempting to get her to speak at home.”

  Mrs. Langdon tilted her head and narrowed her eyes as if trying to understand another language.

  “The sessions I have with Melody are for the two of us to work through the issues.”

  She opened her mouth, but Dr. Kane cut her off.

  “When Melody is ready to speak, she will. Until such time, you are to perform your duties, which do not include making her talk.”

  She tossed her head back. “Don’t get huffy with me. I was tryin’ to help you.”

  The dents around his nostrils turned white. “While I appreciate your motives, unless I expressly request you to do something as a part of Melody’s treatment, I must insist you do nothing to help. How can I explain it to you?” He ran his hands over his head, ruffling the brown curls. “Trying to help when you don’t know what you’re doing is the same as loosening the lug nuts on your tires before taking it to the shop to have them rotated.” He glanced at the ceiling. “You’re doing something you think will be helpful, but halfway to the shop the tires will come off and you’ll cause more damage than existed in the first place.”

  “I certainly don’t mean ta cause damage.”

  “Like Michael Dooley said, ‘Great intentions become tragic actions when delivered without careful thought.’” He put a hand on her shoulder and escorted her to the door. “Let me deal with Melody. It’s my job and one I’m well-equipped to perform.”

  Dr. Kane closed the door and locked it before turning to face Melody. “I’d tell you to call me if she starts interfering again, but I guess my phone will stay as silent as you.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

  He led the way to the furniture filled alcove by the big bay window. On the coffee table in front of the couch stood a set of speakers with a docking station for the music player.

  He hadn’t forgotten.

  Melody perched in the same spot on the couch as she had the day before.

  The leather seat sighed as Dr. Kane sat. “Give me a moment to regroup.” He pressed his palms and fingers together, almost in an attitude of prayer, and bowed his forehead against his fingers. He inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled through his mouth after holding his breath for a few moments. Raising his head, he took another deep breath. “There. Now we can start.”

  Melody’s knee bounced rapidly.

  “Remember, you don’t need to be nervous. We’re going to sit here, watch nature, listen to some music, and I’m going to ramble on about anything crossing my mind. You’re going to work on relaxing and being comfortable.” He held out his hand. “May I see your music player? I’d like to see what kind of music you like.”

  She hesitated.

  “I won’t do anything except look at song titles. And I already promised I’d never take it away from you. If I did, I’d destroy the very thing I’m trying to establish—trust.”

  She gripped the player tight and bit her lower lip, moving the player farther away from the doctor.

  His arm stayed stretched toward her for a few more moments.

  “Too much too fast?”

  Melody’s knee resumed its staccato bounce.

  “I can’t say I’m surprised. You understand I had to ask.” He leaned forward and clapped his hands together. “Well then, you go ahead and pick something for us to listen to.”

  She concealed the player in her hands and rocked.

  “Hey ... hey. No pressure.” The doctor’s voice lowered to soothing tones. “If you’re not ready to pick out a song, we’ll wait.”

  The rocking slowed and she lowered her fist. She opened her hand and stared at the music player, the quiet measured by the ticking of the doctor’s gold watch. The seconds melded into minutes, and the minutes marched past the quarter hour and headed toward the half.

  As she clutched the player, she raked a long, black lock of her hair fiercely behind her ear. Then she turned her head away from the doctor and, with a tremor, held the player out.

  “Thank you, Melody.”

  She faced him.

  His hand closed over the player and he blinked twice before gazing into her eyes. “I know how hard that was for you to do. I’m touched.”

  Dr. Kane cleared his throat and pressed the navigation button. He scrolled through the music with his thumb. Stroking the player, he raised his eyebrows and his eyes widened. “You have a ton o
f music on this thing. Do you listen to it all?” He shot a glance her direction. “And all types. This is amazing.” He kept scrolling through the selections. “You’ve been collecting music for a while. Picking something to listen to is going to be tough.”

  As he continued to scroll through the music, a squirrel ran down the tree and sped toward the flower beds under the windows. A high-pitched chattering sounded as chunks of dirt flew into the air.

  “Ah, why don’t we start with some classical? What do you say to a little of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons?”

  He connected the player to the speakers and pressed play. Orchestral music filled the room.

  Dr. Kane closed his eyes, leaned back in the chair, and listened to the music. A smile slowly crossed his lips. He inhaled deeply then exhaled and opened his eyes. “The tension is flowing out of me. How about you?”

  Melody had stopped rocking and her knee had gone still.

  “I enjoy listening to music patterned after nature. I bet if we watch what’s happening outside, the leaves will dance and the grass will bow and bend to the music.”

  Melody leaned back against the couch. The breeze rustled through the leaves.

  “This part of the Spring concerto makes me think of water rushing past rocks in a creek.”

  As Melody relaxed, the music changed from Spring to Summer. The squirrel stopped digging in the flower bed and ran through the grass. He made a zigzagging pattern as he raced through the green, tail bouncing with each leap forward, perfectly in time with the music.

  “Do I see a smile?”

  Melody’s face went blank.

  “You have a beautiful smile. And there is no need to hide your enjoyment of listening to music and watching our squirrel’s antics.”

  A crow landed on the grass and pecked at a cone on the ground. The squirrel scampered over, sputtering and swishing its tail. It made darting motions toward the crow as if trying to scare it off. It jumped forward and back, chattering away as the crow surveyed it.

  When the squirrel jumped a little too close, the crow spread its wings and cawed, hopping toward the rodent. The squirrel froze, then scurried back as the crow flapped its wings. From a distance, it kept up its excited chatter.

  “I think our friend may have met his match. He won’t want to anger the crow too much. Crows hold a grudge, you know.”

  Melody turned her gaze on Dr. Kane.

  “What?” His glasses slid down his nose as he peered over the top. “I’ve been watching the wildlife outside my windows for a few years. So, through the power of observation and Google, I’ve learned about our friends.”

  He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back into place. “For example, I can tell you the crow is an American crow and not a fish crow, and it’s definitely not a raven.”

  He turned sideways in his chair, put a hand on his cheek, and raised the pitch of his voice. “Really, Dr. Kane? That is so fascinating. But how can you tell?”

  He swiveled to the other side of the chair, lowered his hand, and resumed his normal speaking voice. “I’m glad you asked, Melody. Our crow is bigger than a fish crow, and it has a more rounded tail, where the raven’s is more diamond-shaped. But there are two things making this the American crow versus anything else.”

  He turned in the chair again and raised his voice. “I can’t believe you know all this. Tell me more.”

  He straightened. “When he opened his wings, he had five feather fingers, not four, and he cawed instead of giving the harsher sound of the raven, or the nasally sound of the fish crow.”

  Melody remained still, her gaze unwavering.

  Dr. Kane shook his head. “Man, you are a tough nut. My performance should have warranted a huffy arm crossing at the very least.” He sighed. “We may have to bring in the fox squirrel to crack you.”

  Melody whirled her head away.

  “Ah, I’m starting to get to you. It’s my charm, isn’t it? Mother always said I could talk an Eskimo into a big scoop of ice cream in the wintertime.”

  Melody refused to look at him.

  “All right, be that way. I’m going to enjoy your music and pretend you didn’t just hand me the biggest snub of my career.” He sniffed.

  Halfway through Autumn, Melody snuck a peek at Dr. Kane. Legs crossed, head thrown back, he conducted the recording with his index finger. She allowed the corners of her lips to curve up and relaxed against the couch back.

  The music swelled as the sun waned, and together, the trees, wind, and rays of sun combined to create shadows dancing across the green. The crow spread his wings and took flight, soaring to the treetops. As soon as the crow took wing, the squirrel dashed in to pick up whatever the crow had left behind.

  The squirrel turned right and left, searching for a place to hide its treasure, while the crow cawed as if in victory over the squirrel’s quandary. The squirrel took off, running as if banshees were chasing it, leaping through the tall grass until it reached the base of a tree nearer the pond. It quickly buried the future meal and checked for predators.

  The crow gave a mighty caw and swooped from the top of the tree, dive bombing the squirrel as it raced over the grass.

  Dr. Kane chuckled as the crow passed right over the squirrel with barely an inch to spare. “I knew the squirrel took things too far.” He checked his watch. “Mrs. Langdon will be here soon. And since I’d rather not have her break the door down when she finds it has been locked, we should probably finish.” He switched off the music player, disconnected it from the speakers, and held it out to her.

  Melody took it and closed it in her fist.

  “Thank you for sharing your music with me. I think we took a big step here today, and I’m pleased with our progress. You should be, too.” He stood. “I look forward to our session tomorrow.”

  He crossed to the door and opened it. “Ah, Mrs. Langdon. Right on time. Will you join us for a moment?”

  Mrs. Langdon bustled in, her lips pursed.

  “Melody and I had a good session today. And I want to reiterate what we discussed this afternoon. You are not to ask her any questions about our time here together. Nor should you try to make her speak.”

  Mrs. Langdon frowned. “I don’t know what good it’s gonna do if we don’t make her talk when that’s what she’s supposed ta be doin’.”

  “Mrs. Langdon—”

  “Call me Dory.”

  He blew past her as if she hadn’t uttered a word. “When you dropped her off, we covered your interference and how it can be detrimental.”

  Mrs. Langdon threw up a hand. “While you were here doing who knows what, not makin’ her talk, I went to the library to read up on kids who don’t talk.”

  Dr. Kane’s head snapped back.

  “The librarian was most helpful. She showed me how to look things up online.”

  “Mrs. Langdon, please ...”

  “You were right in one thing you said this afternoon, Doc. I hadn’t read up on the subject and might do some harm. I figured I’d do a little reading, so I’d know best how to help.”

  Dr. Kane ruffled his curly locks. “I have made it a point to study human behavior for years, and you simply cannot discover the necessary information to properly treat a patient in an hour and a half Google search.”

  Mrs. Langdon rested her fists on her ample hips. “I don’t know about that, Doc. I read how most kids who have trouble talkin’ have a lot of anxiety and when you reduce their anxiety, they start talkin’ again.”

  Red spots appeared on his cheeks. “Did you happen to come across this little nugget? Trying to force someone to talk is the worst possible thing you can do.”

  She nodded. “I believe I did read that in one article.”

  “Good.” He pressed his lips into a thin line and inhaled deeply. “Let me be clear, then. Should you attempt in any way to force Melody to talk, I will contact social services and advise them the placement is not working out and they must remove her from your care immediately. Do you understand?”


  Mrs. Langdon’s eyebrows rose. “I will remind you, Dr. Kane, I am only trying to help. You’d think you’d be grateful I took the time to read up on the subject.”

  He sighed. “While I appreciate your interest, you must not attempt to try any methods you read about at home. Melody’s case is unique and what you read on the internet may cause more problems than you’d think.” He stroked his stubble. “It’d be like putting diesel in an engine made to run on gasoline. You’re giving it fuel, but it’s gumming up the works.” He opened the door. “Can you give me a few more moments with Melody? I’ll send her out as soon as we’re done.”

  “But you said you were finished.” At his look, she waved her hands in the air. “All right, I’ll go back out to the waiting room.”

  When she closed the door behind her with a bang, Dr. Kane faced Melody.

  “I want you to know I’m available to you any time, day or night.” He moved to his desk and grabbed a business card and a pen. “I’m writing my cell number on the back of the card so you can reach me.” The right corner of his mouth curved up. “I’d have you call the number on the front because, after hours, it goes to my answering service who will then contact me, but they won’t call me when no one speaks on the other end.” He held out the card. “If your foster mother attempts to make you talk or pesters you, I want you to call me. Don’t worry about saying anything. Play the Vivaldi and I’ll know who and what the problem is.” His blue eyes bore into hers. “Deal?”

  She took the card and gave a barely perceptible nod.

  His smile broadened. “We took a lot of strides forward today and we’ll continue tomorrow.”

  Melody stepped through the doorway to join Mrs. Langdon.

  “All set this time? That doctor of yours does change his mind.” She struggled to her feet and hoisted the purse to her shoulder. “An’ he talks about cars a lot. Mebbe he has a lot of mechanical problems. I’ll have to ask him tomorrow.”