Finding a Voice (15 page)

I
wouldn’t get to speak to Chris for nearly two weeks. He was released from the hospital the next day but I had to stay and it would be two weeks before I was finally able to go back to school on crutches.

A lot happened in that time though. And when I saw him next, it would never be just me and Chris talking again. Chris would be able to talk to anyone he wanted to.

When Mr Jenkins came to visit me the next day it almost seemed like I was back in science class with him. He popped his head in my hospital room door, without actually entering the room, much the same as he would have in the SE wing.

‘You missed science Friday, so I thought I might stop in and pick up our lesson here,’ he teased, ‘Unless you’re busy?’

‘Actually, you are one on my long list of apologies to be made,’ I said.

‘Oh good,’ he said, striding in the room and sitting down for once. ‘But apologies are all mine I’m afraid – though I do admit that I wasn’t so happy with you a couple of days ago.’

‘Sorry about that. I know the police were around and everything. Was it bad?’

‘Typical teens going missing hardly registers, I’m afraid. Kids in our wing, now that’s a different story. S-h-i-t hits the fan,’ he said. ‘We had a lot to answer for, but hey, it’s all in a day’s work.’

‘I understand if I can’t help Chris anymore.’

‘Well, I have a feeling we will be able to work through that one. But first my apologies.’

‘For what?’

‘I wasn’t upfront with you, Jo, and I’m afraid I probably contributed to you feeling you had nowhere to turn.’

‘What?’ I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

‘I’ve just been in to see Chris and one of his house staff. They had no idea before now that Chris was opening up to anyone. They’re pretty excited about it, by the way.’

‘They know about that now? And I guess you do too,’ I said, feeling my face flush at hearing our secret revealed.

‘They do after one amazed police officer paid them a visit. Me, on the other hand, I had a fairly good idea that you two were up to some kind of communicating quite a while ago. I didn’t push you to share it with me, because I secretly hoped you were the key to unlocking the potential I suspected all along,’ he confessed.

‘You did?’ I was surprised. Wasn’t he always trying to dissuade me from thinking Chris had more capability than he showed? ‘But I thought you didn’t care at all.’

‘I see that now, and for that I’m sorry. Really I am,’ he
apologised again. ‘I’d tried for two years to get him to communicate. I’d see a spark of interest sometimes, and I could see Chris follow conversations when he was interested, but mostly he’d just go into another zone with me.’

‘Mr Jenkins, he’s very stubborn. Don’t feel bad, he does that with me sometimes too.’

‘Yes, but he
wants
to talk to you. I kind of used you, looking for a way – any way – to get Chris to want to talk.’

‘That’s okay. I guess it worked for me as much as Chris. Neither of us had anyone we wanted to talk to before now.’

‘To be honest, I was so focused on finding the key to helping Chris communicate – I forgot that he just might not want to talk,’ Mr Jenkins went on. ‘I
should
have thought about it. I can’t go into it, sensitive information about students and all, but he didn’t have the easiest of childhoods before living where he does now.’

‘I kind of know about difficult childhoods myself.’ Somehow it didn’t feel like betraying Mom anymore to say this.

Mr Jenkins was quiet for a moment.

‘Maybe that’s why he picked you, Jo. The rest of us were so busy trying to help him. For the first time someone needed
his
help.’

‘No wonder he
stopped
talking to me then.’ I smiled, thinking how true this probably was.

‘I was planning to talk to you Friday because I was heading off to an important conference that afternoon. It was all
about communication technology and I wanted to ask you if you thought there was anything that might benefit Chris.’

I started. Surely it was the conference that I had been wildly planning to take Chris to!

‘I very nearly missed it too. We were gearing up for search parties on Friday morning and so going to the conference was the last thing on my mind. I managed to get to it on Saturday after you were found, though.’

‘I can tell you what Chris needs. I can show you from the catalogues,’ I began, and then checked myself. ‘Well, I can tell you what I think – but you better ask Chris, not just me.’

‘Good point.’

‘It’s just that everything is so expensive.’

‘Yes, I won’t kid you. That’s a problem. I promise you that it is a problem I will tackle though. I’ll find a way to get it for him.’

Mr Jenkins wasn’t the only visitor I had that day. I was intent on trying to lean as far as I could to reach a book on my bedside table that was just out of reach, when a hand appeared and brought the book over to me.

‘Here let me help you.’

I looked up to see Sarah. She smiled shyly as she handed me the book.

‘Is it okay that I’m visiting you?’ she asked.

‘Sure,’ I said, ‘Are you sure you want to be around me though?’

‘I never didn’t,’ Sarah said. ‘I didn’t know Lisa was such a cow, I swear I didn’t. She is so mean, and she made it seem I said things I never said. The very next day after you ran out of lunch in the drama room I told her I didn’t want to hang out with her.’

‘Really?’ I was shocked.

‘I tried to stop you for weeks after that to explain, but you didn’t even seem to see me, and then I just thought you must truly hate me. Maybe you still do.’

I was through with being afraid of what anyone thought of me. I didn’t want to keep any more secrets, or try to fit in. I liked Sarah a whole lot, but if it meant trying to pretend that I lived a normal life, so that she liked me, then it wouldn’t be worth it.

‘Look, Sarah. I have to let you know. Lisa is right. My mom has some pretty serious mental health problems. That freaks people out. And we don’t have much money; that’s true too. But I’m not ashamed and I don’t need sympathy.’

‘Well, my dad is an alcoholic, and we had to leave him this last summer. And I
am
kind of ashamed of all that. Plus, with moving and all I don’t know anyone, and I need a friend!’ Sarah blurted out.

‘Oh!’ I exclaimed, ‘I’m sorry Sarah, I didn’t know. I’m just not that used to people wanting to be my friend!’

‘I don’t know anything about that. All I know is that you’re funny and smart and I’d ten times rather have you as a friend
than Lisa.’

‘Well, I can see your point there,’ I had to agree. ‘She is kind of a cow.’

And the visitors didn’t stop there. My final visitor that day, Mom’s social worker, came for more serious reasons though.

‘Here’s the deal, Jo,’ Francie started, without as much as a hello. ‘I had to work my connections, but you seem to have done your part in impressing the cops as well. So some decisions have been made as to what to do with you.’

I waited for Francie to take off her coat and sit down.

‘These situations could become very messy when there is history – not yours, but your mom’s history.’

‘What exactly do you mean by “these situations”?’

‘Abducting a person, holding them against their will, endangering their life; that sort of situation,’ Francie said.

‘Oh, that.’

‘Anyway, I’ve arranged for the group home supervisor and your school counsellor to meet with you tomorrow. It’s going to have to be here, because you aren’t going anywhere until the end of the week. All going well with that conversation, the whole matter will be dropped.’

‘That’s okay,’ I approved. I just wanted to get the apologies over with now.

‘There’s more though,’ Francie continued. ‘I’ve talked with your mom, and this little stunt of yours just proves that you guys need more than me stopping in for a chat every once in
a while. And it seems the stubborn pair of you may actually agree with me for once?’

‘I love my mom, Francie, but I don’t think I want to be the one to keep her sane anymore. You know what? I don’t even think I can.’

It was such a relief to say that out loud. I could feel where that saying
taking a weight off your shoulders
came from, because I literally felt the weight shift.

‘Well hallelujah for that! And lucky for you, resources being as tight as they always are, you went and scared the bejesus out of everyone. It’s doing things like that that gets you moved right up the wait list. You just won your mom a community mental health nurse – coming soon to your house five hours a week!’

The meeting with the group home staff was scheduled for 10a.m. on Monday. The nurse had helped me into the wheelchair and wheeled me into a small room filled with sofas where I was expecting Dr Sharon and Mary from the group home. I wasn’t expecting three other group home staff. Along with Mary, Cynthia walked in and two others who I had not met. Like Alison, who I had met when I went to the group home, they were youngish, and didn’t scare me as much as Mary and Cynthia. They introduced themselves as Trisha and Julie, smiling politely, but saying nothing more
while they perched expectantly on their chairs, waiting for Dr Sharon.

We had to wait another ten minutes, as Dr Sharon – characteristically casual – walked in late, taking her time to get out her note pad and pen before addressing the group.

‘Welcome all,’ she started. ‘I’m a school psychologist for the district, and Jo and I have been doing some work together for the last couple of months. My job here today apparently is to facilitate a conversation between all of you. We’ll see if we can all be on the same page by the end of our session. So, Mary would you like to start by letting Jo know the impact of her actions?’

Mary held a piece of paper in front of her and her hands shook slightly.

‘It was just really hard to believe when we found out Chris was gone. The worry that night was unreal. We were worried about his medications being missed, if he was going to get to use the toilet, about how you would know what he needed.’

‘The big question that night was why. Why would someone take Chris?!’ Julie exclaimed.

‘Can you answer that, Jo?’ Dr Sharon directed the question to me.

‘Yes. I’ll try,’ I said quietly. ‘See, Chris isn’t just someone I help out with at school. He is my friend, maybe my first ever real friend. It started out with him listening to me. I didn’t know if he could understand what I said, but it was just so
easy to talk to him.’

I looked up. All eyes were on me, listening.

‘And then I found out he could read. Not just small words either – but whole books. And then we figured out a way for Chris to talk to me. The police officer told you that, right?’

‘He did. I’ve told everyone and we want to know all about it!’ Trisha said excitedly, and then looking around added with less enthusiasm, ‘That is, after we’re finished this part.’

‘I’ve thought about it a lot, and I think I should have trusted people then, and told Mr Jenkins about Chris talking. I should have told all of you at Chris’s house too,’ I went on, ‘But then I saw how Chris lives. It’s so busy and there isn’t time for talking … And I’m sorry if I’m wrong for saying it – but it can’t be right for someone not to even have the door closed when they’re going to the toilet!’

‘So you thought it might be better to take Chris into the woods? How exactly were you able to help Chris in a better way?’ Mary shot back.

‘I think what Jo might be saying, is that she felt for her friend, from the life perspective of a thirteen-year-old. Not that she even thought as far as having any answers,’ Dr Sharon interjected.

I nodded gratefully.

‘I was wrong. You’re right, I couldn’t look after Chris. But I thought Chris was asking me to take him away. He said, “Sad, home.” But he meant me,’ I admitted. ‘He meant I was
sad in my home. He was kind of right.’

‘Okay. As long as we have that established,’ Mary admonished.

‘But I know you’re right too about what you say,’ Trisha said. ‘Everyone has a right to dignity. We forget that sometimes.’

‘But you didn’t see it all, Jo,’ Mary defended, ‘I hope you’ll come back again. I promise to listen to any suggestions you have about how we can improve things. But you have to promise to stay around long enough to see the good things about Chris’s home.’

‘Okay, it’s a deal,’ I smiled, relieved that I wasn’t going to be shut out of Chris’s life.

‘So! Can we finally move on to Jo teaching us how to talk to Chris? I’m dying to know!’ Trisha exclaimed.

‘Anyone have a cell phone?’ I asked. Four phones were raised immediately.

I
t was the second newspaper article that changed everything. A reporter had come by to ask me questions early the next week, when I was still in the hospital. She wasn’t allowed to speak to me without Mom’s consent though, and Mom had point-blank refused.

‘I will not have my daughter flaunted as some allegory of the society we live in!’

As usual, I hadn’t a clue what she had been talking about, but I was kind of glad not to have to talk to anyone else. I had had quite enough people in my life to explain my actions to, without adding a stranger to that list.

It turns out the reporter was still able to get her story, though, as Mom pointed out an article on the bottom of the front page when she came in the next morning.

‘Now that’s better, Jo. Page one this time,’ Mom said matter-of-factly. ‘Not that I approve of this sort of publicity mind you. I think you’ll be pleased though.’

I took the paper, eyes drawn to the article near the bottom.

I didn’t know whether to be pleased or upset. It was great that there was interest in talking to Chris. But it didn’t sound
like Mr Jenkins was any closer to getting Chris the equipment he needed, despite his promise to ensure he got it.

I didn’t have to go back to school that week. Or the next. I was slowly getting used to relying on others for even the simplest things, like getting from the bed to the wheelchair. It gave me an appreciation of what Chris experienced every day of his life.

I was finally let out of hospital though the following Monday. That morning both Mom and Grandma came to take me home. I was going to be confined to a wheelchair for a while, at least until the surgeon was happy enough with my leg healing to let me begin to use crutches. Grandma had decided that if she couldn’t take her granddaughter home for good, maybe she could handle living with her daughter for a week or so to help out.

‘I suppose if the pair of you needs me I could just about manage another trip west,’ she had said to me on the phone a few days before. I would never know how the conversations had gone between Grandma and Mom about who would have guardianship over me. Something had changed though, and both of them seemed more settled in how we all fit together as a family.

‘Shall I bring the car to the door, Sue?’ Grandma asked when I was settled in the wheelchair, for once consulting
Mom about anything at all.

‘Such a nice day, maybe we’ll just walk the twenty kilometres home!’ Mom exclaimed, and when she saw Grandma stand slightly more erect, said quickly with a smile, ‘I’m joking of course Mom! Yes, bring the car around, thanks.’

So, it wasn’t like in the movies when everything between us was instantly perfect, but it was better and for once I was going to enjoy it while it lasted, for as long as it lasted, instead of worrying about when it would end.

It was a couple of days later, that I heard a shout from the kitchen. It was just after ten in the morning, and both Mom
and
Grandma had agreed that it was no harm for me to spend leisurely mornings in bed. Since Mom was camped out on the sofa, giving her own bed up to Grandma, she was now up before me for the first time since I could remember.

So it was Mom who rushed into my room with my new best friend – my wheelchair on loan from the hospital.

‘Let’s get you in this contraption. I think you may want to see this.’

‘What is it, Mom?’

‘Just help me get you in this chair before you miss your Grandma being human. I don’t think I’ve seen her so animated since I took her to see that Broadway musical, I don’t remember the name, that one she loves. It was years ago. I haven’t seen her smile like this since then, anyway!’

I was wheeled into the kitchen before I was fully awake.
Then Grandma shoved the newspaper into my hands, pointing to a small article that she had circled in red.

‘Do you see that, Jo? That’s my shepherd’s pie he’s talking about! And here I thought you were taking all that food I made to a stray dog!’

I couldn’t wait to go back to school and talk to Chris. We had a lot to talk about.