The Wayward Gifted - Broken Point (15 page)

“No, but I believe you’ll like what I
have.” He pulled his hands from behind his back and showed the children two
dolls. At first glance, Sam felt a chill in the air, and the breath taken from
her lungs. She saw Steuart hold his arms. He felt it too.

“It’s the
Wayward Gifted
,” Steuart whispered and reached for the dolls.

Dr. Klesel looked curiously at Steuart.
“Where did you get that name?”

“Look at them,” Steuart gingerly held
the dolls and inspected them. “They’re bright and gifted, artistic types. This
one, the boy, he’s a comic.” Steuart’s voice picked up a bit. “I can tell by
looking at him.”

“How do you know that?”

“Just a feeling,” Steuart looked at Dr.
Klesel and Sam. “He looks like a comedian. Comedians know comedians. I’m a
funny guy. I can also tell because of the way he’s dressed. It’s his hair, the
striped pants and the plaid beret. He looks like he has a good sense of humor
to me.” Steuart handed the female doll to Sam.

“She feels so real in my arms,” Sam
hugged the doll closely. “She’s cuddling me.” Sam hugged her again. “She’s
wonderful. I love the way she feels.”

“What do you think?” Dr. Klesel asked.

“This one,” Sam said, “this one, she’s
an artist, no doubt about it. She’s a painter. She makes beautiful pictures.”

Dr. Klesel pointed to the dolls feet. “But
she’s wearing ballet slippers. You don’t think she’s a dancer?”

“No,” Sam shook her head, “that’s not a
problem.”

“No? Are you certain?”

“An artist might wear a beautiful pair
of ballet slippers like these to a gallery opening, or even a street fair.”

“That makes delightful sense to me,”
Dr. Klesel stood with the children as they held the dolls and looked at them.
“I need to let you know that these dolls are unusual.”

“They’re wonderful,” Sam added.

“I wonder why you call them
wayward.”
 
Dr. Klesel looked at Steuart
.

“Wayward … they’re whimsical,
unpredictable and perhaps a bit rebellious or irreverent. They’re not bad. It’s
mostly because they’re from another place … a different world … sort of like
Sam and me.”

“Steuart, I’m consistently impressed
with your vocabulary.”

“Thanks SY. I enjoy finding new words.”

“Can we take them home?” Sam asked.

“Yes, you may. Just remember that you’re
responsible for their care. I don’t share my dolls with many people.”

“Can we bring them to our
appointments?” Steuart asked.

“Yes,” Dr. Klesel nodded, “Steuart, tell
me more about your words.”

“There isn’t much to tell. It’s
something grandmother taught me once I was old enough to read. When I find a
word, hear a word, or see a word that I like, I collect it here.” Steuart pointed
to his valise.

“Nice antique. I wondered what that was
for.”

“It belonged to my great-grandfather,
Matt.”

“I’ve noticed that you always have it
with you. What’s your process?”

“Process?”

“Do you carry a dictionary or a
thesaurus? Do you research when you first hear the word?”

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“For the same reason that Sam doesn’t
carry a color wheel.”

“Why’s that?” Dr. Klesel turned to Sam.

“Boring.”

“Really?”

“Yes, we like to investigate and figure
things out on our own. It’s fun.” Sam looked at Steuart, “I think our time’s up
for today. We need to get going.” She looked at Dr. Klesel, “We can talk more
about these things at our next appointment.”

“Also,” Steuart continued talking,
“when I find an anagram I know that it’s a word I have in my vocabulary. By
doing that I’m always interested in learning new words.”

Sam yawned.

“Do you ever look things up?” the
doctor asked.

“Eventually, but I like to wait until
I’ve taken a little time to see if I can figure it out on my own. Then I check
to see if I’m right or not.”

“Interesting.”

“Dr. Klesel, thank you for sharing your
dolls with us.” Sam reached out to give him a hug, but changed her mind and
stepped back. “Please don’t throw out any of your magazines before we see you
again. There’s a color on one of the pages that I’d like to have if that’s
alright with you.”

Dr. Klesel looked both pleased and
puzzled, “Sam, I want to hear more about your colors when you come back. We can
look at the magazine together.”

Sam and Steuart walked towards the door.

Steuart stopped, “Thanks Shark Yeller.
Thanks for the doll.” He nodded in an appreciative manner and then grew
concerned. He stood close to the doctor. “I need to be absolutely sure about
something—before we go home.”

“About the dolls? What’s your concern?”

“About the dolls. He...” Steuart looked
away, and then back, “...this one is okay for a boy, isn’t he? You get my
meaning?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t he be?”

“My mother, you know, she thinks that
boys shouldn’t have dolls.”

“Oh,” Dr. Klesel stopped for a moment
before kneeling down to Steuart’s eye level. “Steuart, you’re doing good work.
This guy is part of that work. He’s okay. He’d be okay even if he wasn’t part
of our therapy.”

Steuart looked at the doll and smiled,
“Just wanted to be sure about this. Mother may give me a bit of a time about
having a doll.”

“I see.”

“I like this guy.”

“I’m glad you do. You and your sister
are doing great work.”

“I’m doing work. This guy’s part of my
work.”

Dr. Klesel patted Steuart on the
shoulder. He looked at Sam. “Thank you both for the lovely picture. I’ll see
you on Thursday.

EIGHT

At
first sight, Olivia quashed her children’s excitement over the dolls.
The expression on her face told them
what they already knew. “We do not need these things in our house. They are
going back to Dr. Klesel tomorrow.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Sam asked.

“They look like
wayward trash
.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Sometimes the truth is painful.”

Sam and Steuart stood silently holding
the dolls as they listened to Olivia’s rant. “I’m serious, they look like
garbage.
 
There is nothing
gifted
about these ugly things. Why
would you even come up with such a silly name?
 
Wayward, maybe, but gifted—I don’t
think so. They belong in the trash.”

“I think they’re beautiful,” Sam said.

“Because you don’t know any better. If
you read your handbook you would know that these are not acceptable.” Sam
winced as her mother spoke, “
Right, Good,
and Appropriate
states that
while
toys are appropriate for children, they are inappropriate for others.
Dolls,
even the highest quality dolls are ridiculous at your ages, unless you are a
collector. Even then I would prefer that you collect something more interesting
than a doll. What the hell was that man thinking?”

Steuart and Sam quietly listened. They
waited for their mother to take the dolls away. She reached for Sam’s doll,
shook her with both hands and then carelessly threw her against the sofa back.
“Stupid damned doll.”

“Mother, why are you using that
language?” Sam asked.

“There is a time and there is a place
for everything. However, there is never a time or place for you to correct your
mother. I cannot understand why that man would give you dolls like these,
especially you Steuart. Boys do not need to be playing with dolls. It could
lead to things that are best left ignored. I don’t want to raise you to play
with dolls. Do you understand me? At this rate you’ll be in therapy for the
rest of your life.” Olivia walked into the kitchen with the children following
behind. “Maybe that’s his plan. It’s not going to work.”

Steuart reached for his doll. “Dr.
Klesel says this is therapy. He says I’m doing good work. The dolls are part of
my work. He said there is nothing wrong with dolls—even for boys.”

Olivia opened the refrigerator, took
out a bottle of wine and reached for the corkscrew. “Dr. Klesel and I are going
to have a talk.”

“And you wonder why we need therapy?”
Sam muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” Olivia poured a glass
of wine.

“Nothing, Mother. I need to do my
homework.”

* * *

The following afternoon Steuart stayed
with Nanny Claire while Sam and the dolls accompanied Olivia to see Dr. Klesel.

Olivia talked nonstop, “Dr. Klesel, I’m
returning your dolls. I strongly believe it is my place, not yours, to decide
what types of toys come into my home. Samantha Leigh is too old for these
things. It makes no sense to give her a doll, but I find the situation with
Steuart absolutely distressing. What possessed you to do this? What exactly are
you trying to do to my son?”

Sam, too embarrassed to look at the
doctor, fantasized that the floor would open wide enough to swallow and carry
her down a long tunnel leading home to Point Taken. Then she fantasized that
the same floor would swallow and carry her mother off to the Galapagos. “Are
you okay?” Dr. Klesel asked Sam.

“Yes,” Sam nodded and walked to the
window while her mother ranted about the dolls.

Dr. Klesel listened and remained calm. “What’s
the problem Olivia? Why don’t you want the children to have the dolls?”

“You are the problem. Dolls are the
problem. Why are you giving my children toys? Why aren’t you prescribing
medication for my children? How are dolls going to fix their problems? What
type of psychiatrist are you?” Her words grew sharper and louder. “What have I
hired you for? Was I not direct enough when we came here on the first day? How
did you ever get through medical school? My children are broken. They do not
need toys.”

“That’s enough. You’re being abusive.”

“
Abusive?
You are not doing a thing to help my children. You cannot even have this
conversation with me. You’re completely unemotional.”

“Strong and bitter words indicate a weak
argument. When you decide to settle down we can talk.”

“What type of psychiatrist are you?”

“What are you afraid of?”

Olivia stopped. Sam moved closer to the
window and held her breath as she waited for her mother to annihilate Dr.
Klesel. She prepared for a tirade so awful that not only would he throw them
out of his office, refusing further service, he would also call for security
backup. They would be escorted from the building and thrown into the snow.

“We’re not having this conversation,” Olivia
said softly.

“Why are you afraid of the dolls?” Dr.
Klesel pressed.

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not afraid of
toys.”

“If not the dolls, what?”

* * *

Sam didn’t understand why her mother
decided to allow the dolls, but she was thankful for her decision. Upon returning
home, Olivia laid out the rules. “For reasons that are beyond me, your
psychiatrist feels strongly that you need to have these things that he has
given to you. I’ve decided to allow them because he feels that they are going
to help you in some way. However, I want to make myself absolutely clear so
that there are no misunderstandings. I do not want to see those nasty, ugly
pieces of trash—ever. Am I making myself clear?”

Steuart and Sam nodded.

“I’ll keep her in the closet or under
my bed,” Sam said.

“I don’t care where you keep them as
long as I never have to see them. I do not understand why he insists on wasting
my time and precious money with toys.”

“Mother,” Sam said, “I thought
insurance and Grandmother were paying for our sessions. What exactly are you
afraid of?”

Olivia slapped her hand against the
kitchen counter and screamed. “I’ll find plenty for you to be afraid of if I
ever hear you speak to me in that tone again. How dare you. You do not know
enough to understand what you are saying. For that reason, and that reason
only, I am letting you off the hook. If that man does not do something to fix
your behavior soon, I may be forced to find a psychiatrist who knows what he’s
doing—one who’ll allow you stay in a special hospital for badly behaved children.
Now, go to your rooms.”