Dolphins in the Mud

by Jo Ramsey

  “You’re welcome,” Dad said.

  Mom headed down to the basement, and I opened the kitchen drawer where we kept takeout menus. I wondered why we were eating out when Mom had bought those TV dinners but didn’t bother asking. The whole day had been weird, and for all I knew Mom had decided even microwaving would be too much for her. I decided I was in the mood for Chinese food. I scribbled what I wanted on the pad of paper we kept on the fridge, then gave the menu and my list to Dad, who had settled in the recliner in the living room.

  “Thanks.” He took the menu. “You and your sister had the day off from school today, right?”

  “Yeah. Teacher workshop.” I sat on the couch. “So we’ve been here watching the excitement all day.”

  “Excitement?”

  “The dolphins.” He had to know what I was talking about. No way he’d missed all the activity at the water’s edge. Not to mention the strandings had made the news, and he always listened to the all-news radio station on his drive home. “Cece saw them first this morning. She’s been watching them all day.”

  “Your mother said Cece went down there.” He gave me one of those looks that, coming from a parent, is almost guaranteed to make a kid squirm. “How did she get out?”

  “The door wasn’t locked.” I reminded myself that that hadn’t been my fault. “It was unlocked when I got up. I didn’t notice till Cece opened the door, or I would have locked it.”

  “Your mother should have made sure to lock it after I left.”

  He sounded like he was talking more to himself than me, so I didn’t answer.

  Then he said, “How did your mother seem to you today?”

  “She’s fine.” I didn’t want to tell him the truth about how Mom had acted. I’d heard him argue with Mom too many times about Cece. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to let him know how angry Mom had been earlier, and I knew better than to tell him about her leaving me to watch Cece while she ran errands.

  He didn’t let up. “Was she upset earlier?”

  I shrugged. “She was scared when Cece ran off, and then after she brought Cece home, the kid demolished the living room. So I think that might have made Mom kind of mad. She didn’t act too mad. Mostly just scared.”

  “Sometimes I think Cece’s too much for your mother.” He quickly looked away. “Forget I said that, okay? Your mom does her best. Having a kid like your sister wouldn’t be easy for anyone.”

  “Yeah.” I squirmed even more. I didn’t want to listen to my father analyzing my mother. He should have been having that conversation with a friend or a counselor or something, not his son. I didn’t have anything to say that would help him.

  He opened the menu and studied it for a couple minutes. Cece finally realized that he was home and turned around to grin at him. At first he didn’t notice her, so she made a little grunting noise. He looked up from the menu and smiled. “Hi, little girl. Did you see dolphins today?”

  “Doph.” Cece slid off the couch and walked over to crawl up on Dad’s lap. Even though she didn’t like being touched, she sometimes asked for hugs or to sit on someone’s lap or something. Having someone else touch her didn’t seem to bother her as much if she asked for it.

  Dad awkwardly put his arm around her. “Yes, dolphins. You can’t go outside to see them. You have to stay in the house unless a grown-up is with you.”

  I didn’t know why he bothered saying that. Cece probably didn’t even remember going outside. She didn’t seem to mind Dad lecturing her, though. She snuggled against him and sat there for a couple minutes while he studied her with an expression I hated to see. The one that said he wished he could fix her but knew he couldn’t do anything.

  Cece clambered off Dad’s lap and went over to the TV instead of back to the window. Taking the hint, I turned on the TV and put it on the public broadcasting channel she usually watched. Mom didn’t like to let her watch any other TV shows because she was afraid something would upset Cece. According to the schedule, Cece should have already been watching TV. The dolphins and Mom being upset had seriously messed up the day.

  Cece sat on the floor and stared up at the TV with the same intensity she’d given to watching the dolphins. She sat so still that if she hadn’t been breathing, anyone seeing her would have wondered if she was a statue.

  “I’m going to go find out what your mother wants for supper.” Dad stood. “I’ll be right back. Are you okay with her?”

  “She’s watching TV,” I pointed out. “She probably won’t move for the next hour.”

  He nodded and went downstairs. After a few seconds, I heard his and Mom’s raised voices. Both of them sounded ticked. I was just glad I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  Cece didn’t even notice.

  Chapter Four

  AT MY house, weekends were the easiest days to deal with. Dad didn’t work Saturdays or Sundays, except for answering a few e-mails, so he was more relaxed than during the week. More importantly, he was home, which meant Mom had another adult to help her with Cece. At our old home, they’d tried hiring help, but people who were experienced with autistic kids charged more than we could afford. People who weren’t experienced didn’t last long with Cece.

  The agency that provided the home therapists had respite workers available to give parents a break, but Mom had refused to sign up. She’d said she didn’t want the agency thinking she couldn’t handle her own kid. Even Dad hadn’t been able to talk her into taking the help.

  During the weekend, Mom still went out to run her errands, but she acted calmer overall. When she did go out, I wasn’t the one stuck watching my sister.

  We found out Saturday that some of the dolphins had died. Some of the stranded ones had been rescued and released back into the ocean at Provincetown, about half an hour north of us. The rest hadn’t survived.

  Cece spent part of that morning looking out the window to see if the dolphins were still there. Since they weren’t, she lost interest quickly and went down to the playroom. Mom and Dad both went with her. Since their argument the night before, they’d been acting lovey-dovey toward each other. I didn’t know whether they were trying to make up or whether they just wanted me to think they didn’t have any problems. It was a little late for that, though.

  By early afternoon on Saturday, I was bored stupid. I’d done the weekend’s homework on Thursday night so I wouldn’t spend my three-day weekend having to deal with it. That left me with nothing else to do except watch TV or walk around, neither of which appealed to me. I didn’t even feel like going online. I called a few of the kids I knew from school and discovered that all of them either had plans or wanted me to think they did.

  Finally, I decided to take Noah up on his invitation.

  Dad had come upstairs to get a soda for himself and sugar-free juice for Cece. The sound of Mom singing to Cece, something she hadn’t done in a while, floated up the stairs from the basement. The singing gave me hope. Maybe things would get better after all. The previous winter, Mom had acted all grumpy and weird too, and then she’d come out of it in the spring. Maybe the same thing would happen this year.

  “Your sister’s having a pretty good day,” Dad said.

  “Sounds like it.” It bugged me that all he could think of to say to me was something about Cece. Most of the time he only talked to me about her. I sometimes wondered if he didn’t know anything else to say to me. If that was the case, it sucked, because it showed how little he knew about me.

  “Is everything going okay with you?” He leaned against the counter. “I think a lot of times we’re so focused on Cecelia that we forget about you, and I don’t want to do that. You’re a great kid, and you deserve a lot of credit.”

  The mini-speech sounded like something he’d rehearsed, and it startled me a little since he was pretty much answering what I’d been thinking. Hearing him say it still felt good. At least he remembered I existed for something other than being Cece’s older brother and the “normal” kid in the family.


  “Thanks,” I said.

  “You’re welcome.” He frowned. “The only thing that worries me about you is that you don’t seem to have as many friends here as you did at the old place. Do you still miss Brian?”

  Brian was my old boyfriend. His parents hadn’t even known he and I were seeing each other, because Brian hadn’t come out yet to his family or most of his friends. My parents had known and hadn’t had a problem with me dating a guy.

  “I don’t think about him much anymore,” I said.

  “That’s too bad, because we aren’t that far away. And there’s the Internet.”

  “I see him sometimes on the social sites.” I just didn’t talk to him much. He’d started seeing another guy right after I’d moved.

  “No one you’re interested in around here?”

  He fidgeted a little, the only signal that he wasn’t totally comfortable with the conversation. When I’d first come out to my parents, when I was fourteen, they’d been cool about it. I figured from their points of view, compared to Cece, having a gay son was probably no big deal. They’d let me know very clearly that they supported me whether I liked guys or girls. They had cautioned me that, if I was gay, I’d be in for some nasty comments or worse from some people, but they’d support me through that as well. Since I’d been called a fag at school for about three years before that, I’d told them it didn’t matter.

  Even though I knew he was okay with it, I didn’t think Dad knew how to feel about having a gay son, which was probably part of the reason he didn’t know how to talk to me.

  “I don’t know who around here’s gay and who’s straight,” I said. “Does it matter if I have a boyfriend?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “I just don’t like that you spend so much time alone. Before we moved, you went out with friends all the time. I don’t think you’ve gone anywhere with anyone since we’ve been here.”

  I read between the lines. He felt guilty about moving us, despite the fact that the move had been mostly Mom’s idea so Cece could go to a better school. If I didn’t hang out with anyone else, that reinforced Dad’s feeling that he’d screwed up by bringing us to Wellfleet. He’d taken me away from my friends.

  “I met someone yesterday I’d like to hang out with,” I said. “Noah Silver. He lives at the end of the point. Sometimes, at least.”

  “Sometimes?” He wrinkled his forehead. “How do you live somewhere sometimes?”

  I shrugged. “He said his parents own a few places, and they move around. He isn’t sure how long they’ll be here this time, but he said they’re here every few months. We were talking while we watched the dolphin rescue.”

  “Did you want to go see him today?”

  He sounded almost relieved, like he wanted me out of the house. Which he probably did, given what he’d already said. I had a feeling wanting me to have friends wasn’t the only reason he wanted me to go out. I doubted he and Mom had completely resolved things from the night before. They talked about things in front of Cece because they didn’t think she understood. With me in the house, they wouldn’t be able to have a discussion because they’d be too worried about me overhearing.

  “I was thinking about it,” I said. “I don’t have anything else to do, unless you and Mom need me to do something?”

  “Nothing I can think of.” He took a drink of his soda. “Go ahead, just come home around six for supper. I’m cooking tonight.”

  Dad was a better cook than Mom, so hearing that made me happy. “Okay. See you later.”

  “See you when you get back.” He went back downstairs.

  I changed out of the T-shirt and sweatpants I’d been wearing since I woke up into jeans and a long-sleeved striped polo shirt I usually only wore to school. I didn’t have any reason to impress Noah, but apparently I was going to try anyway. It amused me. I was acting like I was going to visit a guy I had a crush on instead of a guy I barely knew. Though since I did have a crush on him, the way I was acting made sense. I just didn’t want him to know about the crush.

  I didn’t bother saying anything to my parents when I left. Dad knew where I was going. I was afraid Mom would come up with some reason for me to stay home if she realized I had plans. Before we’d moved, she hadn’t minded me hanging out with friends. Since we’d come to Wellfleet, she didn’t seem to want me to go anywhere. She either wanted my help with Cece, or she wanted to make sure I didn’t tell people how “bad” Cece’s autism was. That was the main reason I didn’t spend much time with friends anymore, but of course Dad didn’t know that.

  Noah’s house looked a lot bigger up close than it had through the trees from my place or from the edge of the cove. I couldn’t imagine owning a place that big and not living in it all the time. Or the amount of money it would take to own a place that big plus other places.

  I wasn’t there to speculate about how rich Noah’s family was. I’d come to see Noah. The door he’d mentioned was right in front of me, so I walked up the steps and pressed the doorbell. Chimes sounded inside the house and I waited for someone to answer.

  Just when I’d started to think that maybe no one was home, the door swung open. A man about my dad’s age, with glasses, graying hair, and as tall as Noah, glared down at me. “May I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Noah,” I replied calmly. Just like I refused to let the house intimidate me, I refused to let this guy intimidate me. Even though he looked like he wanted to knock me back down the stairs.

  “Who are you?” he snapped.

  “Chris Talberman. I live in the Glass Tree House.” I figured if he’d owned this place for a while, he’d recognize the name Dad’s cousin had given the cottage.

  I’d forgotten that Dad’s cousin had still owned the place the last time Noah’s family had been at Drummer Cove. The guy frowned even more. “I thought Sandra Hewitt owned that place. Is your family renting it from her?”

  I shook my head. “We own it. My dad is Sandra’s cousin, and she sold the place to him last summer.”

  He appeared skeptical, but he nodded. “I remember her saying something about selling. So you live there year-round now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How do you know Noah?”

  Apparently the other kids hadn’t been kidding when they’d said Noah’s parents wouldn’t let him hang around with anyone. At least, I assumed this guy was Noah’s father. And he was driving me nuts with all the questions.

  I doubted he would allow me inside the house if I didn’t answer. “I met him yesterday when the dolphins were stranded. My sister ran out of the house, and Noah stopped her before she reached the cove.”

  “Your sister’s young, I assume. Otherwise it wouldn’t matter if she went near the cove.”

  Now he was getting nosy. I still figured I had to answer. “She’s nine.” I hesitated, then figured I might as well finish the explanation. “And autistic. She saw the dolphins and wanted to be close to them.”

  “Ah.” Finally he stepped back out of the way. “Come in. I’ll let Noah know you’re here.”

  The door opened into what Noah’s family probably called a foyer. Pronounced “foy-ay,” all fancy like in the movies. The floor was white tile, and a patterned rug lay in front of the door. A table off to one side held a tall blue vase that contained a single rose. In front of me, a spiral staircase led up to the second floor.

  “He’s up in his room,” the man said. “I’m Jacob Silver, by the way.”

  I shook the hand he held out. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Silver.”

  He gave me an approving look. I’d scored some points by shaking hands and using his last name. “Noah will be right down.”

  He headed up the spiral staircase, and I just stood there because I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t very well walk around and explore the place. The house was so big I’d probably get lost on my way back to the foyer. Besides, my parents had raised me well enough that I knew better than to wander someone’s house without permission. Cece did t
hat sometimes when we took her to visit people, but people made allowances for her as long as they knew about her autism.

  After a couple minutes, I heard footsteps upstairs. Then Noah came down the staircase. He smiled at me and said, “Hi. Dad told me you were here.”

  “You told me to stop by,” I reminded him. “There wasn’t anything going on at my house, so I figured I’d see if you wanted to hang out for a while.”

  “Sure.” His smile brightened. “I don’t usually have company. Dad wasn’t quite sure what to think about it. He asked me a bunch of questions about you.”

  “I guess parents are like that.” I shifted my feet and stuck my hands in my pockets. “Does he have a problem with me being here?”

  “No, not at all,” Noah said quickly. “He just isn’t used to me having friends over. Um, neither am I, to be honest.” He paused and glanced around. “How about I show you the house and then we can see what’s in the kitchen?”

  “Sounds good.” I wasn’t all that hungry, but I definitely wouldn’t turn down food. Eating would give us something to do, at least.

  We went through the foyer into a large room that stretched across the width of the house. Windows on both sides gave a view of the water. The chairs and couches—two couches—were covered with a sort of beigey-tan plush fabric. A low black table sat in front of one of the couches, and a few smaller, higher black tables were scattered around.

  “The living room,” Noah said. “Not that we really live in here most of the time.”

  I decided not to follow up on that comment. “Nice view.”

  “Yeah. We don’t look at it much.” He frowned for a second, then smiled at me again. “The kitchen’s through here.”

  The kitchen was on the opposite side of the foyer wall, and the only way to enter it was through the living room. The stainless-steel appliances were big enough to handle a family of eight or ten. An island topped with black granite sat in the middle of the room with two round stools beside it. Through a doorway at the opposite side of the room, I saw a rectangular, dark wood table and figured that was the dining room.