The Weight of Silence

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The Weight of Silence Page 20

by Heather Gudenkauf


  I hesitate and do not respond to her offer.

  “Everyone at the hospital knows me. I have three grandkids of my own, but they live out west.”

  “I don’t know,” I begin.

  “If you need me, you call me. I’ll give you my phone number. And please call me. I don’t have anyone here in town anymore, either. Are you from Willow Creek?”

  “I was born and grew up here.” We pull into the ambulance unloading area; Rose jots her number down on a scrap of paper and hands it to me.

  “You call me, understand? If you need anything, you call me.”

  “I will, thank you,” I tell her as some attendants come, gently lift Calli from the ambulance and wheel her into the hospital emergency room as Rose and her partner fill them in on Calli’s situation.

  “This is Toni Clark, Calli’s mother,” Rose informs them.

  “Please come with me, Ms. Clark,” a male nurse instructs me and I follow him into an examination room. I turn back to wave at Rose, but she is already gone. “Tell me what happened here with Calli,” he asks.

  “I’m not really sure what happened. She wasn’t in her bed this morning, and we couldn’t find her. Another little girl, Petra Gregory, is still on the bluff. The police have been looking for them all day. She came running down from the woods, like…this,” I say, indicating her scratched legs and bleeding feet, her dirty nightgown.

  “Was she able to tell you what happened?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “But she said her brother’s name, ‘Ben.’ He’s still up there.”

  The nurse looks confused. “Both your children were missing?”

  “No, just Calli and her friend, not Ben. He went looking for them. Calli came out, Ben didn’t. Not yet.” I am so tired; the entire story makes little sense even to me. “The police are up there looking for them.”

  “I’m sure a police officer will be here shortly,” the nurse assures me. “He or she will most likely question Calli about what she remembers about today. We will get her checked out and cleaned up before that happens.”

  “All right, thank you,” I tell him.

  “Dr. Higby will be right in.” The nurse leaves me in the brightly lit examination room, alone with Calli, and I try to brush her matted hair away from her forehead.

  Calli tries to curl herself up into a tight little ball, but this is difficult as the examination table is narrow. She shoves a grimy thumb into her mouth and every few moments her eyelids flutter, as if trying to open, but they remain closed. I hear the door open behind me and in steps a man, the doctor, I assume, as he is wearing a white lab coat. He is completely bald, his head gleaming underneath the fluorescent lights. He wears glasses with red frames and a tie decorated with smiley faces.

  “I’m Dr. Higby,” he introduces himself. He holds his hand out to me and I shake it. He has a powerful grip and I am struck by how much his hand looks like Griff’s, strong and coarse from manual labor. “Tell me about who we have here,” he says, looking down at Calli who is trying to warm herself by pulling the sheet that covers her more tightly about her.

  “This is Calli Clark. I’m Toni, her mother. She’s been out lost in the woods all day. I don’t know what happened to her.”

  “Was she found like this?”

  “She came out of the woods on her own, but she was exhausted. She fell asleep the moment she was off her feet.”

  Dr. Higby refers to the notes in a chart he holds. “Her vital signs look strong. Let’s check her over and see what we have here. We’re going to have to wake her up, Mrs. Clark,” he says apologetically. “Having her awake and able to tell us where it hurts will help us treat her. Would you like to be the one to wake her? She would probably find it frightening to wake up to this scary mug of mine.” He smiles at me.

  “Calli, honey.” I go to her side and rub her shoulder. “Calli, I need you to wake up now.” I gently try to pull the sheet from her and her eyes open, instantly awake, her eyes dart around in panic. “It’s okay, Calli, Mom’s here,” I croon. “You’re at the hospital. We need you to wake up so you can let us know where it hurts. This is Dr. Higby. He’s going to help you feel better.”

  Dr. Higby steps into Calli’s line of vision and she watches him carefully for a moment, taking in the red glasses and his tie.

  “Hello, Calli, I’m Dr. Higby. Just like your mom said, I’m going to check you over to see if you are hurt anywhere. I hear you’ve had a pretty scary day.”

  Calli gives no response, but continues to observe the doctor. “I want you to know, Calli, that you are completely safe here,” Dr. Higby assures her. “Nothing bad is going to happen here. We all are here to help you, okay?” Calli does not answer.

  “Dr. Higby, may I speak with you a moment? Calli, we’ll be right out here. You okay?” She nods and Dr. Higby follows me out into the hall.

  “Calli doesn’t talk. I mean, she spoke for the first time in four years today. She said her brother’s name. It’s all she said, but that’s huge for us. I’m not sure what to expect now, if she’ll talk all the time now or what.”

  “Calli’s a selective mute?” he asks. “There’s no physical reason for her not talking?”

  “That’s what we’ve been told. I’d almost given up hope in her ever talking again, but she did today. She said her brother’s name.” I feel a renewed sense of excitement and hope in telling Dr. Higby this.

  “It is very good news that Calli spoke. I have a very limited experience with selective mutism, Mrs. Clark, but we have a psychiatrist on staff who may be more informed on the subject. Would you like for me to call her and have her visit with you?”

  “Calli isn’t crazy,” I tell him, my initial liking of the man fading quickly.

  “No, of course not. I didn’t mean to imply that. Dr. Kelsing is a medical doctor with a wide expertise. She could be very helpful.” Dr. Higby waits patiently for me to mull this over.

  “You think she’s good?” I ask. “You think she could help Calli?”

  “I implicitly trust her judgment, Mrs. Clark,” he responds.

  “All right, then, I’d like to meet her,” I say as I notice two police officers come through the emergency room doors.

  “I’ll call her immediately and then we’ll get to work on fixing up Calli.” He pats my arm and goes to contact Dr. Kelsing.

  The two officers confer with the emergency room receptionist and make their way over to me as I peek in the examination room to check on Calli. She waggles her fingers at me in a halfhearted wave and I smile at her and hold up a finger to tell her that I’ll be right back. I meet the officers back in the hallway. Their faces are familiar to me, and I recognize them as being several years behind me in school.

  “Mrs. Clark?” the taller officer asks. I nod. “I’m Officer Bies and this is Officer Thumser. I think you went to school with my sister, Cheryl.”

  I nod distractedly. “Did you find my son?” I ask anxiously.

  “Yes, Mrs. Clark. He’s on his way now to be checked out here at the hospital.”

  “Is he okay?” I ask, my heart thumping.

  “It appears he’s fine, Mrs. Clark. He should be here within the next hour or so. We need to talk to your daughter, ma’am.”

  “Did you find Petra? Is Petra okay?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t share any information about Petra Gregory at this time. Mrs. Clark, we really need to see your daughter. She is crucial to this investigation.”

  At this moment Dr. Higby reappears. “Hello, Mike, Russ. What can I do for you tonight?” he asks.

  “We were just explaining to Mrs. Clark that we need to visit with Calli about what happened to her today.”

  “We need to make sure that Calli’s condition is stable before anyone speaks with her. You can understand that.”

  “Yes, we understand. How long till you think she can talk to us?”

  Dr. Higby and I look at each other and I nod to him, giving him permission to share Calli’s situation.

 
; “Calli’s a reluctant speaker. She may not be able to tell you what you want to know. We have a consultant coming in to help us. We are going to need to proceed very slowly with her.”

  The officers’ disappointment is apparent, but they are wise enough to say nothing. “Could you give us a call when you feel she’s ready to see us? It really is important. And, Mrs. Clark, we’ll need to visit with your son after he gets checked out. And you, as well.”

  “Me?” I ask. “Why me?”

  “Just follow-up questions. We finally located Roger Hogan, your husband’s fishing buddy. Mr. Hogan didn’t offer much, but your husband wasn’t with him. Good luck, Mrs. Clark,” the tall officer tells me. “I’m glad your little girl is back safe and sound.”

  I freeze for a moment, trying to process that news. Griff isn’t with Roger? Where is he, then? I don’t allow myself to consider what it means. Dr. Higby and I return to Calli’s side. Calli is wide-awake now, trembling from the cold of the room.

  “I know it’s cold in here, Calli,” Dr. Higby says. “We’ll get you all fixed up and nice and cozy soon. We’ll tell you exactly what is going to happen before it happens, okay? That way, if you have any questions, you can ask.”

  A young nurse enters the room. She has a cheerful smile and wears pink scrubs. “Hi, Calli, my name is Molly. I’m going to be your nurse while you’re here. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Calli looks quickly to me and snatches at my hand.

  “Don’t worry, honey, your mom can stay with you the whole time,” Molly assures her.

  Dr. Higby pats me on the back and excuses himself. “Sometimes the patients feel more comfortable if only females are in the room. I’ll check back in with you soon.” He gives me a sympathetic smile and leaves us.

  I bend down to kiss her and for the first time that evening I notice the smell of urine on her. My stomach clenches at the thought of what happened today.

  “Now, the first thing we need to do is get you out of that nightgown and into this lovely gown.” Molly carefully removes Calli’s pink nightgown and places it in a plastic bag. Calli loves this nightgown; I often find her wearing it in the middle of the day. I think she likes the way that it swirls around her as she moves. When she doesn’t know that I am watching, I see Calli dancing in her pink nightgown to music that only she can hear. She is graceful and delicate and when she dances she reminds me of the dandelion fluff we catch and then release to make wishes. I always make the same wish on her as she leaps and twirls—please speak to me, Calli, please speak. I silently vow to buy Calli the most beautiful nightgown I can find. One that feels like silk next to her skin and flows like water around her as she moves.

  “Now, Calli, I’m going to give you an exam. Do you know what an exam is?” Molly asks. Calli gives a slight nod of her head. “Oh, of course you do. How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?” Calli smiles, shakes her head and holds up seven fingers.

  “Seven?” Molly asks. “I’m shocked. You seem so much older.” Again Calli smiles. I like this Molly right away. “Now, Calli, I’m going to go from the tip-top of your head right down to your little piggy toes and ask you if anything specifically hurts. You just let me know yes or no, okay?” Again Calli nods.

  “I can tell you’re going to be a super patient. Okay, let’s get started. First of all, does your hair hurt?” Calli wrinkles her nose and looks at Molly in disbelief. “Well, does it?” she asks again.

  Calli shakes her head no.

  “Good! That’s good news. How about your head, does anywhere on your head or neck hurt?” Again Calli shakes her head no. I can see Calli is enjoying this game and by the time Molly gets down to Calli’s piggy toes, we have learned that the only places Calli feels any pain are in her stomach and in her feet.

  Molly quietly explains that she would have to collect evidence from Calli. When she says the words rape kit my stomach lurches.

  “Is that necessary?” I ask numbly.

  “We need to rule out any assault that may have occurred and we need to gather any evidence that may have been left behind. I’ll be very gentle. And you can stay here with her,” Molly assures me as she pulls on a pair of latex gloves.

  Molly takes a long oversize Q-tip and asks Calli to open her mouth. She swiftly swabs Calli’s cheeks and horrific thoughts charge through my mind. I try to push them away. Methodically, carefully, Molly moves down along my daughter’s body, combing, scraping and collecting the grime and dreadfulness of the day. I force myself to watch, to watch what my inattentiveness has caused. I force myself to watch now because I have not watched my child closely enough; she has spent the day in the forest running, running from something terrible. Did he catch her or was she fast enough? Please have been fast enough, I silently recite over and over. When the exam is finally complete I have read every furrow in my daughter’s face, the confusion and the unasked questions. I have no words for Calli. I cannot think of one useful, comforting word for my daughter during this intrusion and we are both silent.

  “I don’t see any obvious indication of sexual assault, but we’ll send the swabs to the lab.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Maybe it will be okay. Molly continues, “They’ll let us know for sure. Her feet are cut up pretty badly. After we take X-rays, we’ll clean them and wrap them up tight,” she explains to me. To Calli she says, “You’ll feel a lot better, I bet, after you have a bath, won’t you, Calli? We’ll also get you something good to eat after X-rays. Sound good?” Calli bobs her head yes. I am hopeful that she will answer in words, but she does not. I need to be patient. At least now I know she can talk when she really needs to and I hold on to that fact.

  Molly situates Calli onto a gurney and we make the journey toward X-ray. I notice that night has arrived in full force as we pass by the emergency room doors and I think again of Ben and Petra up on that bluff. I stop at the emergency registration desk to see if they had any word on Ben and the woman behind the counter tells me that Ben will soon be on his way to the hospital.

  “He’ll catch a ride in the back of a police car and doesn’t need to be transported by ambulance. That’s good news,” she informs me. “He must be doing quite well, Mrs. Clark.”

  Relief shoots through me. “That is good news. Can someone come find me when he gets here? I’m going to X-ray with Calli now.”

  “Sure thing. And sometime, when you get a few moments, there is some paperwork for you to fill out. Don’t worry about it until you get everything settled with your children.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her. Everyone is so kind here and I briefly wish to be admitted here myself so people can fuss over me.

  As Molly pushes Calli down the hallway, I see Dr. Higby with a woman coming our way. She is an older woman, perhaps in her early sixties, with iron-gray hair, glasses and beautiful skin. My mother’s skin had looked that way before she became ill, but I had never taken the time to appreciate it.

  “Mrs. Clark, this is Dr. Kelsing,”Dr. Higby introduces me to the woman. “We share Dr. Kelsing with the hospital in Winner.”

  “Nice to meet you, Dr. Kelsing.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, as well, Mrs. Clark. I understand that Calli has had a pretty rough day.”

  “Yes, she has.” I suddenly feel shy under Dr. Kelsing’s gaze. Her eyes are sharp and intelligent and I have the feeling that few could pull anything over on her.

  “Families who experience extremely stressful events such as yours are typically very hesitant to accept outside help. Most often they try to pull their family unit more tightly together in order to deal with the experience, try to deal with the effects on their own.”

  We are outside the X-ray room when Molly says to Calli, “Calli, honey, we need to take your pictures now. We would like your mom to stand out here, because we don’t need to take her picture today. Just yours. You’ll be able to see her through this window, though, okay? You all right with that?” Calli nods yes.

  “I’ll be right out here, Calli, watching you through the win
dow,” I assure her. Molly wheels Calli into the X-ray room and I watch as they situate my little girl on the table, bending her arms and legs in different directions, trying to get the best angle for the picture. Calli looks so small, so young. The reality of it all burns at the back of my eyes and I press my fingers to my eyelids. I do not want to cry in front of these strangers.

  I turn back to Dr. Kelsing. “I know I can’t do this on my own. Can you help us? Can you help Calli continue to speak?”

  “I can’t promise you anything, Mrs. Clark, but we can work together to do what you decide is best for Calli. I have had some experience with selective mutism. I have information about it that may be useful for you, if you’d like.”

  For some odd, unknown reason, I decide to trust this woman who has skin like my own mother’s. “I’m scared,” I tell her, struggling not to cry. “I’m so scared to find out why she stopped talking in the first place. But I’m even more scared…” The tears spill over and I bite my lip, willing them to stop. Dr. Kelsing does not speak, but waits for me to compose myself, and I like her even more for it. “I’m even more scared to find out what happened out in the woods that caused her to start to talk again.”

  DEPUTY SHERIFF LOUIS

  I watch as Martin struggles to keep it together as his daughter is lifted away by the helicopter. After she is out of sight and we can only hear the hum of the helicopter blades, he turns to me and says, “I have to get off this bluff. I need to get to Fielda and tell her that Petra is going to be all right.”

  “We’ll ride the four-wheelers down. It will be quicker, and then I’ll drive you to Fielda first thing,” I tell him.

  Awkwardly, Martin straddles the four-wheeler and clasps his arms around the officer who will transport him down the bluff. The officer gives Martin directions over his shoulder to hold on tightly to him, then the two are off into the thick of the forest. I hope that all will be well with Petra. She didn’t look good to me and I knew the stress of the transfer in the helicopter could be more than her little body could take. I walk over to where Ben is resting against the trunk of a tree. I can’t tell if he is sleeping or not, so I squat down next to him and shine my flashlight near his face to check. He is awake. The beating he has taken hits me full force as I take in his discolored cheek and swollen nose and eyes. Splattered blood stains his torn shirt and he is holding his side gingerly.

 

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