Part 13 (1/2)

”Yes, they do. And most of those students go home each weekend.”

At least we could see him on weekends.

”Most parents worry that their children will have trouble adjusting to boarding school, but the kids seem to do just fine,” she rea.s.sured us.

”It's just that...it would be like a candle flame has gone out for us at home,” I said.

”Yes. Yes, that's it exactly,” Robert added, nodding in agreement.

The princ.i.p.al turned to look at me, thoughtful for a moment. ”I'm sorry. Did you say you were just visiting the Gordons?”

I nodded.

”On a vacation?”

”She's our houseguest,” Robert explained. ”A long-term houseguest.”

The princ.i.p.al's eyes s.h.i.+fted from Robert, to me, back to Robert then she got back to the business at hand. She asked us questions about William and was curious to hear about the correspondence course from the John Tracy Clinic.

”How did you find out about the clinic? It just began last year. Hardly anyone knows about it yet, but I've already heard very good things about the coursework.”

”My houseguest has an extraordinary talent for researching information,” Robert said, arching his eyebrows. Then, he described how we'd been working on oral communication.

”And the whole family is learning, too?” she asked.

”Yes, we're working on it. Louisa has placed paper pictures all over the house to help remind us to practice sound-to-object a.s.sociation with William. Even in the car.”

”Excellent! We believe in complete family involvement.” She paused and looked straight at Robert. ”Reverend Gordon, how fortunate you are to have such a helpful houseguest. My houseguests eat my food and use up my hot water and toilet tissue.”

Chin to my chest, I tried to hide a self-satisfied smile.

”May I ask why you've come to us today?” she asked.

I looked at Robert to answer that question. I still wasn't sure why we were here.

”I know there are different schools of thought about how to help a deaf child communicate. I...we have chosen to try oral communication, and we...well, Louisa, actually, has had wonderful results. But we're...I'm...concerned William might be missing something.”

”I can appreciate your concern. This school believes in 'total communication.' That means that what you're doing now with William is perfectly appropriate, and when he comes of school age, he can learn sign language. Most of our students come to us without any sign language ability. And most do need to be in a sign language environment to gain fluency. It would be extremely difficult for him to learn it at home, without any fluent signers nearby.” She described the academic and life skill goals of the school.

We listened carefully to her, asking questions, finding answers to concerns. An hour flew by. Then the receptionist interrupted us to take us on a tour of the grounds. We were able to see the residence halls, the gymnasium, the cafeteria, and to observe a few cla.s.srooms. When we went back to the princ.i.p.al's office, William was seated beside her. She was asking him questions and, with great concentration, he tried to respond to her.

”You're back. So soon!” she said with a smile when she saw us standing there, watching them. ”Please sit down. Let's have a little talk before you leave.”

We sat down in chairs facing her desk. I thought it was interesting that William stayed seated next to Mrs. Powell rather than coming to sit on Robert's or my lap as I would have expected. He was obviously comfortable here.

”Well, Reverend Gordon, to be perfectly honest, with the enriched home environment William has obviously benefited from, you could wait a few years to enroll him as a boarding student.”

”I'm just concerned he might need more professional instruction than we can give to him,” Robert said.

”Relax, Reverend Gordon. So far, you're doing a fine job. He is a bright boy. I can imagine you're all barely staying just a step ahead of him. But I understood him when I asked him a question.”

I took a sharp breath. ”You understood him? You really did?”

”I really did.”

I looked over at Robert, who had already pulled out his handkerchief, mopping his eyes.

Mrs. Powell smiled, understanding. ”I have an idea. One of our best teachers just retired and moved to Bisbee. Mrs. Violet Morgan. She's trained in speech therapy. What would you think about meeting with her a few times a month just to have a checkpoint? I'm sure she wouldn't mind at all. Trust me, on a teacher's pension, I'm sure she could use the income from tutoring. It might give you peace of mind that you're on the right track or answer any questions you might have.”

We took down the Bisbee teacher's name and address and shook the princ.i.p.al's hand as we said goodbye.

”Before you go,” she said, ”if you have time, we'd like to invite you to eat lunch at the school cafeteria. I think you'll find it to be an interesting experience. Food's not bad, either.”

We walked over to the school cafeteria, holding William's hands between us. The princ.i.p.al was right. It was fascinating to watch animated children, eating their lunches, talking to each other in sign language.

William's face was a sight to behold. He couldn't stop watching the children interacting with each other. For one of the first times in his life, around a group of children, I think he felt he belonged. Always before, even in his father's church, he was an outsider.

The car ride back to Copper Springs felt like a gray cloud looming over our heads had dissipated. ”William, did you like the school?” I asked.

”Good,” he answered, nodding his head. Soon, he leaned against the car door, eyes struggling to stay open, tired after such a full morning.

Thank you, Lord, for answering our prayer so clearly, I prayed as I watched him fall asleep.

When we arrived back in Copper Springs, Dog was sprawled out on the front porch. As soon as Dog saw the Hudson pull into the driveway, he barked and raced out to the car to greet us. William woke up and scrambled out to play with him. As I reached for the door handle, Robert said, ”Louisa, wait one moment. I wanted to say...”

”It's all right, Robert.”

He sighed. ”Do you realize that this is the third time in one week that I have tried to apologize to you and you have interrupted me? Could you please let a man finish a complete sentence?”

I turned toward him, a little surprised by his exasperated tone.

”I wanted to say I'm sorry I doubted your ability to teach William. I'm sorry I let Mueller get under my skin. And I'm very appreciative of the help you've given to my son.”

I waited. ”Finished?”

”Yes,” he said.

”I think you were right.”

”Excuse me?” Robert said, stunned.

”I said I think you were right.”

”Would you mind repeating that?”

I rolled my eyes.