Part 12 (1/2)
”I apologize on my son's behalf, Mr. Mueller,” he said. ”It will not happen again. Please remember he's just a child.”
Herr Mueller was in no mood to be mollified. ”This time, apologies are not enough. I've had enough excuses! The truth is that you can't manage your own child. You are an incompetent parent! This time, I am going to the authorities!” Mueller spun on his heels and marched back down the street. The only thing that almost got me smirking me was the sight of eggsh.e.l.ls stuck on his pants.
Robert threw me a stern glance. ”Not a word, Louisa.”
The evening meal was a very silent one. Weary from the day's crime, William kept his eyes lowered to his plate and hardly ate. Miss Gordon turned down the offer for clean-up help in the kitchen, so Robert went to his office, William up to his room with Dog, and I slipped unnoticed out the front door and over to Rosita's house.
As I knocked on the door, a tear-stained Esmeralda, lips trembling, answered it. ”I am so sorry!” she bawled. ”I didn't know how much trouble William would get in.” Rosita came to the door behind her, chagrined.
”Esmeralda, please don't worry,” I a.s.sured her. ”Just tell me what happened.”
”After we finished baking cookies and played some games we got bored, and Mama shooed us outside. We were just kicking a ball down the street when William saw Mr. Mueller outside working on his flowers. William ran back to his house and brought back the rotten eggs. He threw them at Mr. Mueller. I didn't want him to, but he just kept throwing and throwing the eggs at him. I promise that I didn't throw any eggs.” Then, sheepishly, ”but I did hold the carton open for him. Mr. Mueller got so mad! His face got red, and he waved his arms and said some bad, bad words,” she stopped to take a deep breath, ”and then he took William by the s.h.i.+rt collar and dragged him to Miss Gordon and then said more bad words to her.”
”Esmeralda, why do you think William threw those eggs at Herr Mueller?”
”I don't know.” Then she looked at me from the corner of her eyes. ”But that Mr. Mueller is mean.”
”That's not a reason to throw rotten eggs at the man.”
”Is Father Gordon mad with me?”
”Reverend Gordon not Father Gordon. He's disappointed with William's behavior, but he's not mad at you.” I smiled and gave her a hug.
”Will you ever let him come to our house to play again?” asked Rosita.
”Of course!” I hugged her, too, and left to go to Robert's office. Gently, I knocked on the door and poked my head in.
He wasn't working; he was gazing out the window. He frowned when he saw me. ”I don't want to talk about it, Louisa.”
”I understand. Just let me say one thing and then I'll go.”
Slowly, he nodded.
”I'm not excusing William's behavior, but there is some reason that he truly dislikes Herr Mueller.” I told him about the time when William spit on Herr Mueller's shoes in the library. And about the spitwads through the straw.
Robert's eyebrows shot up. ”For Pete's sake! Why didn't you tell me about those things when they happened?”
”Because there's something about Herr Mueller that makes me want to spit on his shoes, too.”
He rolled his eyes. ”That's really not very helpful. I need to discipline the boy. He's played tricks on Mueller before. Once he shot a rock at Mueller's backside with his slingshot. Another time he threw tomatoes at the Muellers' windows during a fancy dinner party. I heard about that one for months.” He shook his head in disgust.
”William might have a very good reason for doing what he did.”
He gave me a look as if I had lost my mind. ”And what could that possibly be?”
”I don't know. I really have no idea. And until his language improves, I don't know how we could find out why William hates Herr Mueller so. But I have faith in William. I hope you do, too. Please don't be too hard on him.”
He sighed. ”You might have a point.” He spun around in his chair and looked out the window. ”I've been sitting here wondering if maybe the time is right for William to attend the Southwestern School for the Deaf. I had wanted to wait until he was older, but it's apparent he's more ready than I had expected.” He spun back around to look directly at me. ”You've shown me that.” Then, quietly to himself, he said, ”I'm just not sure I could bear having him gone.”
I drew a sharp breath. It never occurred to me that by teaching William to communicate, it might mean he would be sent to boarding school. I couldn't imagine the Gordon home without William. I didn't even want to consider it. I put my hand on the doork.n.o.b to leave but turned to say, ”Anyway, thank you for such a lovely day up in the mountains with Chief Cochise.”
”Somehow, I think Cochise would have been easier to deal with than Mueller,” Robert lamented.
I had hoped Robert would drop the subject about sending William to boarding school after the rotten egg fiasco with Herr Mueller. I was certainly not going to mention it.
The next evening as dinner ended, Miss Gordon told William to go upstairs and get ready for his bath, waving her hands wildly as if she were taking a bath and scrubbing herself down. It always amused me to watch her homespun methods of communicating with a deaf child. She did seem to be able to get her point across to William.
Robert watched William head up the stairs, Dog trotting dutifully behind his young master. Then he casually mentioned he had called the Southwestern School for the Deaf and scheduled an appointment for Friday. ”I think it would be a good idea to see what the school has to offer.”
Miss Gordon and I exchanged a look.
”So the princ.i.p.al is going to give me a tour of the campus and let me see some of the cla.s.ses,” he continued. ”And they'll do some testing with William.”
I picked up a few dinner plates from the table and went to the sink, stacking plates.
”It's just to check it out. It doesn't mean that I have to make a decision. It's just an informative interview,” he added.
I didn't say a word. I just started filling up the sink with warm, soapy water.
”So Louisa, what do you think?” he asked.
Without looking at him, I said, ”I think you'll make the best decision.”
”I'm asking you what you think,” he said, irritation rising in his voice.
I kept my head down. ”William is your son. I'm sure you know what's best for him. It's really none of my business.”
”None of your business?! None of your business?!” he roared. ”Since when have you ever minded your own business? From the first day you arrived here, you have been minding everyone's business. And now, when I actually ask for your opinion, for the first time, you have none?!”
I stopped was.h.i.+ng the dishes and stared at him. ”Was ist lst mit dir? Why are you so upset?”
”Blast it, woman! You can really drive a body barmy!” He stomped out of the kitchen, slammed the door shut, and marched off to his office.
I looked at Miss Gordon, who looked back at me, equally wide-eyed. ”What was that about?” I plopped down on the chair next to her. ”How dare he yell at me! What did I do to deserve that? How many times have I heard the words 'this is not your place, Louisa.' So when I finally know it's not my place to say anything, he gets angry!”
Her brows flickered up. ”His point, exactly.” She took the dishtowel out of my hand. ”Go talk to him. I'll clean up and get William to bed.”
”I don't want to talk to him. I'm too angry.” I looked directly at her. ”What about your opinion? What do you say about William being sent off to boarding school?”
”Well, if you noticed, Robert didn't ask me. He asked you. So, go. Talk to him.”
”Wait. What does it mean to drive a body barmy? Did he swear at me?”
”No, no, no. It's a Scottish expression my father used to say. Robert's grandfather. Driving a body barmy is something you do very well. Off with you!” She waved her dishcloth at me as if shooing the butler.
Slowly walking over to the kitchen door, I picked up the car keys that were hanging on the keyboard. I walked over to Robert's office and knocked on the door.
”Come in,” Robert said.