by Wendy Silk
I stood in the foyer of our apartment and called out, “Toby?”
In answer, I heard music. Toby was playing the theme song from The Smurfs as a way of greeting me. It had exactly the effect he’d intended, which was to make smile. My shoulders relaxed as relief spread through my body. He wasn’t mad at me.
The temporary caregiver I’d hired for the week, Joan, hurried up to greet me. As I was setting my bags down and hanging up my coat, she waited to speak to me. Her anxious expression told me that she was wondering the same thing about me that I’d been thinking about Toby.
“No, Joan, I’m not mad at you,” I tried to put her at ease. She was a serious looking woman anyway, which was something I’d liked about her when I’d interviewed her for this job. She was older than me, almost exactly the age my mom would have been. When I had realized that at our first meeting, it put me at ease, but it also left me with a soreness in my heart that I hadn’t felt in years. Mom could have been right here, standing with me in our hallway. I could have been visiting from somewhere else, saying hello to her as I hung up my coat.
Anyway. I shook my head to clear it and began again. “Joan, I understand. I know that I told you very specifically that I wanted us to err on the side of caution with Toby’s response to my being gone. That was pretty much my primary instruction to you. So I don’t mind--really, I don’t--that you called me back a day early. How is he now?”
Joan recovered some of her usual briskness, and turned to walk with me toward the bright, high-ceilinged living room. She said in a low tone as we walked, “He’s much better now. Just hearing that you were coming back changed things for him. I know it doesn’t seem like one day would have been significant, but it was. He was missing you so much that it got so that he was refusing to communicate or eat.” She looked up at me. “He’s such a sweet person. It was hard to see him going through that. But I know you needed respite. I hope it was a good trip for you.”
As we entered the living room, I saw Toby sitting in his favorite chair, waiting for me. His face blossomed into a huge grin at the sight of me. No, he wasn’t angry. He had just needed me back. My heart was suddenly full. Being needed was a two-sided coin. Responsibility might weigh me down, yes, but it was worth it to be so loved.
Toby didn’t rise to hug me. His bad leg must have been acting up, with the fall weather rolling in. After the accident, it had taken a full year of more surgeries than I wanted to remember before he could walk again, even with a cane. Now he rarely needed the support of the cane, but there was no denying that jumping out of a chair was a bigger job for him than for most eighteen year olds.
I leaned over him instead, enveloping him in a bear hug.
“Toby! I missed you so much! I can’t wait to tell you all about it, man. The reef, the fish; it was amazing. I have lots of photos.”
He gazed up at me wordlessly. With a tiny movement, he pressed his finger to the screen of his phone and played the famous music from Jaws. I cracked up, although I probably should have seen that one coming.
“Nope,” I answered him, flopping down on the chair facing his. I leaned back against the pillows and put my sock-clad feet up onto the coffee table. “No, I was not at any time chased by sharks, eaten by sharks, nor did I electrocute any sharks. Bummer, right?”
He laughed with me. Oh, it was good to see him. My brother had been my best friend my whole life since he was born, and I had missed him more than I had admitted to myself when I was in the Caribbean. I’d been twelve when he was born as a late surprise gift to my parents, and I had been so thrilled that I told every kid in my class at school that I was finally somebody’s brother. He’d grown from the sweetest baby into a noisy, rollicking toddler who was constantly in my stuff. By the time he was in second grade and I was away at college, so full of myself and my potential at twenty years old, he was a loud kid with an excellent sense of humor and a love of games. After the accident, he was never loud again.
For a decade, we’d been visiting every specialist there was, trying to find out why Toby’s brain injury had resulted in widespread aphasia, leaving him with no speech at all. He’d had scans, ultrasounds, psychiatric evaluations, and there was simply no answer. He just didn’t talk. I was always trying to help him get set up with the latest electronic solutions to see if I could help him express himself. Mostly, though, he preferred to use music. He had a variety of apps that could form spoken sentences for him quickly, but he liked the way I smiled at his ideas when they came out in song. Sometimes I felt like I should answer back the same way, but I had never gotten the hang of it the way he did. Making the connection between mood and music was his special gift. I didn’t know if he’d had it before the accident, but he certainly had it now.
Joan cleared her throat, looking uncertain whether she should leave us alone. “Now that you’re back, do you still need me here? I know our contract was through tomorrow, but of course it’s my fault that you had to come back early.”
I shook my head at her. “Not at all. You did exactly what I had asked you to do. You were great with him. I can see he’s had a good time. Maybe it was a nice vacation from me, huh, Toby?” He rolled his eyes in response, but I could see that it put him at ease to think that he’d been having a vacation too. Why hadn’t I taken him with me? I had considered it, but rejected the possibility. Now I could see that I’d made the wrong choice. “Joan, you’re welcome to head out a day early, with full pay, naturally. I’m very grateful for your excellent care of this troublesome teenager.” I aimed a tiny kick at Toby’s chair, teasing him.
“Well, thank you, Mr. Bedloe. It was a pleasure to get to meet you both.” She nodded at us and withdrew to the guest room she’d been using. As she packed her things, I made a mental note to add a bonus to her check as well. She had been good. I would never have forgiven a caregiver who hadn’t called me back if I was needed.
Toby pressed his phone screen to put his thoughts into words. That was uncommon enough that I turned to give him my full attention. It took longer than the way most people spoke, but he was skilled at finding the phrases he needed when he wanted to.
“Grant, I want...to go to college.” That’s all he said, but it brought up several years worth of discussion between us.
“Toby, I hear you. I know that it’s important to you. I know you love learning new things. But I just don’t think you’re ready. I think you’re underestimating both the social hurdles and the academic rigor.”
“I can do it.” That was all he said.
“We’ve talked about this so many times. You missed so much school with the surgeries. Then the years spent changing programs to try to find the right fit. I want to make this happen for you, I do. But Toby, you left St. John’s last year without finishing high school. You said it was too depressing to be there and not be able to be like the other guys.”
“I know,” he answered, using his app.
I drew a breath, trying to find my own words. “Toby, I’ll tell you what. If you can finish your senior year now, here at home, with a tutor, you can still graduate. I want you to buckle down and do the work, but more than that, I want you to get better at being willing to use your speech apps. Do all that, and we can see about college.”
His eyes were starting to glisten as they welled up with unshed tears. Damn, my trip had shaken all this loose?
“Dude, I know. I really do.” I moved closer to him and looked him in the eyes. “Toby, I know perfectly well that you’re smart. You have so much going on in there that you don’t get to share with the rest of us. If you can bridge this gap, you can make it to college. Then you can study what you want. You can be anything you want.”
Toby nodded at me. “Yes.”
“All we need now is a tutor. Somebody we can really trust to come in and work with you. I’ll put in a call to that agency in Seattle that we tried before. But this time, we’ll make sure we get somebody who’s used to working with high-achieving kids your age, not just with kids who are strugg
ling academically. We’ll find the right person, I promise.”
I stood up and patted him on the shoulder. As I made my way to the kitchen for a beer I’d been thinking about for too long now, I heard the opening bars of the soundtrack to Mission Impossible behind me.
Chapter 9: Alice
Despite running as hard as I could to get to the appointment on time, I hadn’t been fast enough. My hotel in Seattle was eating up the space remaining on my credit card faster than I could send out resumes and cover letters for teaching positions. Today, I’d been overjoyed to finally get a call about a job interview, but in the end I blew it. By the time I trailed in to the district office, the head secretary just shook her head at me. There wasn’t any point in trying to get in once I was this late.
It wasn’t just that I’d been slow about today’s job interview. I was feeling keenly that I was long past the prime season for job hunting when it came to teaching positions. With the school year about to start, the only jobs that were posted were those with built-in problems. My best bet would be to land a job that had just opened due to a budget surplus, but those were rare in the public school system.
I had traded in my tiny suburb of Portland for big city life in Seattle. It wasn’t actually the glamorous city life I’d always imagined, as all I did these days was sit in my extended stay hotel and send out resumes. At least I didn’t feel like people were talking about me, though. I’d left almost all my things behind at the apartment David and I had shared. My clothes filled all of our suitcases, so I took those, but I left all the furniture and books. I could get more later.
Now my life fit perfectly into a tiny suite of blandly decorated rooms that were designed to cater to business travelers. It was refreshing, actually. It was miles away from the adventurous, exotic travel plans I’d made just a week ago. That had made sense to me back when I thought I would still have a job to fall back on. I thought I could take a leave of absence to live a crazy dream, them come back if money got too tight. It was tighter now that I was comfortable with, but there was no going back.
I had one long shot in mind. I’d been contacted by a headhunter from an agency that placed teachers in the private sector. There wasn’t much information available on what the client wanted, but the salary was good. It was worth checking out. The catch was that I’d have to take the ferry out to Whidbey Island for the interview. After sitting in my hotel room at my keyboard, however, that sounded like a fun afternoon.
I drove my serviceable Honda up to Mukilteo, enjoying the endless stretch of the interstate. The trees stood tall and unchanging along both sides of the highway. Maybe they knew what they were doing, staying in one place rather than looking too hard for adventure. I got a good spot in the ferry line and waited for the instruction to board. Most of the other drivers sat in their cars, waiting alone, but I saw it as a chance to look around. The sky was clear today and I marveled at the sight of the seagulls swooping and circling against the bright blue backdrop of sky.
The ferry itself was quick, depositing us on Whidbey Island in a workmanlike manner. I’d never been on any of these ferries from Seattle before. Now I couldn’t think why I had been missing out on seeing places so close to where I lived. The island had a captivating beauty. As I drove the winding roads down to the southern tip, I passed farms and flower gardens, artist colonies and fruit stands.
All I knew about my destination was that it was a hotel. The job posting didn’t include any information on the job itself, which was odd. If I hadn’t been getting desperate, I wouldn’t even have pursued something that looked so much like a scam. Was it some kind of private school? I didn’t know how many people would be in the class, or if I would be expected to teach some kind of religious content. My apprehension was growing.
As I made the last turn in the road, I caught sight of the hotel. It was a sight I was sure I’d remember for the rest of my life. The massive historic building was built in a cedar shingle style, with picturesque white trim everywhere. It was immaculately maintained, with an expanse of lawn along the front. The back of the hotel opened directly on a pebble beach. Sets of steps downward would give easy access for any visitor who wanted to stroll along the beach that ran for what looked like miles in both directions.
With some trepidation, I parked my little car in front of the building and stepped through the massive double doors. The long porch that ran across the front of the building was peppered with adirondack chairs and rockers, with occasional side tables complete with sets of checkers on top. Once inside the doors, I saw a homey reception desk, where an older woman greeted me with a friendly smile.
“Hi, I’m here about the job posting for a teacher,” I said. “I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go. I’m Alice--I have a four o’clock appointment.”
“Of course,” she replied. She brushed back her stone gray hair, and I had a brief flash of comparing her to Deirdre, my old superintendent. They were a similar age, but this woman was so relaxed that she looked much younger. She looked at me quizzically, and I realized I’d been staring.
“Sorry. I was just wondering if you like your job here. If you don’t mind my asking,” I was stammering a bit.
She grinned. “I love it. I’ve been here for so many years that I don’t know what my life would have been like if it wasn’t for this place. It’s been a backdrop for almost everything that’s ever happened to me.”
Ok, that sounded a little spooky. Was she saying that once people start working here, or on this island, they never leave?
She caught my eye and laughed out loud. “No, I’m not saying that it’s weird.” How had she known what I was thinking? She continued. “Just that it’s home, you know? The island has always been my home, but the hotel, and the family that runs it, they’re my home as well.”
I could get behind this kind of charm. This could work for me. The building was enchanting. It looked like it had been built in about 1910, in the style of the massive chalets that were going up in America’s national parks at the same time. What a legacy, to have it still here. Was it the family that owned it that I’d be working for?
The receptionist motioned me to follow her. “Come with me, please. You’re the last interview of the day. I have to tell you, you already look like the nicest one of them. I’m probably not supposed to say anything so unprofessional.” She laughed. “Oh well. What they’re looking for is kindness, in my opinion. And I think you have that.”
She walked me to an elevator, then lifted a key from her lanyard and inserted it in the control panel. “I’ll take you up to the top floor. That’s where they’re seeing the teachers. If you get the job, you’ll end up having your own key.”
At the top floor, the elevator opened directly into the foyer of the most luxurious penthouse apartment I’d ever seen. There were windows everywhere, far more than I’d expected from the front facade of this historic building. There must have been a few modifications made to the back of the building, to let in so much light. A wide balcony stretched behind the living room. The easy chairs and their matching cedar tables out there looked like the perfect place to sit to watch the lapping waters of Puget Sound in any season.
I saw the receptionist nod to a young man as he walked stiffly to approach me. She gave him a glance that might have been one of reassurance, then she turned back to the elevator. As the doors closed, she nodded at me as well.
I walked forward with what I hoped looked like confidence, toward the young man. He was taller than me, with a lean look to him that made me wonder if there was something he was missing in his life. I stretched out my hand and announced, “Hi, I’m Alice Hamilton. I’m here about the teaching job.”
Peculiarly, he didn’t answer back. He gave me a small smile, but said nothing. With a sweep of his arm, he gestured to me that we should sit together at the long formal dining table. Once we were seated together, he remained silent, looking down at the table as if he was waiting for something or someone.
I wasn’t sur
e what I was supposed to do next. “What’s your name? Can you tell me a little bit about the job?” When he didn’t answer, I started to prattle on. “I wasn’t sure from the listing if it was a job teaching a group, or if it was a one on one tutoring position. Is the work here in the hotel?” The more I spoke, the more idiotic I sounded.
Finally, this tall teenager took his phone from his pocket and used his angular fingers to convince the machine to produce speech. “I’m Toby,” it said. He said.
“Hi Toby,” I answered cautiously. “Are you the student?” I was feeling like I might be out of my depth here. I was certified as a high school teacher, sure, but I didn’t have a lot of experience with special education programs. My resume made all that clear, however, so it must not be a problem.
“Yes.” That was all Toby produced in response, but he smiled at me again. I was starting to understand that those smiles were rarer than they ought to have been. When he looked at me with that friendly appeal, his eyes crinkled and I could almost see a little boy that he used to be. I suddenly suspected that he’d once been a noisy little boy, like my own brothers. There were long years in my childhood in which I would have given anything to quiet down the whooping and arguing of my brothers. Sitting here in this still apartment, though, I felt a pang of knowing that I’d give anything to hear their voices right now.
That was it. I leaned forward, across the edge of the table. “May I see your phone?” He handed it to me, so I was able to click around on the app he was using to articulate his speech through the phone. I handed it back to him. With my chin lowered so I could look right into his blue eyes, I spoke with the no-nonsense tone I would have used with my youngest brother. “Can you show me how to use that? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
His eyes glinted at me in surprise. Why did they strike me as so familiar? In just a few minutes, he had me understanding the basics of the assistance software that he was using. Once I thought I might be able to make it work, I said, “Ok. I’m just making a guess here, so stop me if I’m wrong. But I think that you are probably pretty tired of teachers who try to do everything for you, right? Who maybe put words in your mouth, or act like you don’t have any already in mind?”
