2. The Ghost of a Victorian Child #2
“Hi! You must be August,” she speaks and signs at the same time, a dimple appearing in her right cheek. “I’m Miss Marsden, but everybody calls me Miss Clio.” She forms the letter C with her right hand next to her dimple and moves it upward, smiling as she says her name.
Auggie’s demeanor changes in the blink of an eye. “I’m Auggie. I’m four, and I have superpowers.” He plants his hands on his hips like a superhero.
“Wow!” Clio says, holding her hand to her chest. “I didn’t know I was in the presence of a superhero. What kind of powers do you have, Super Auggie?”
A bright smile spreads across his face. “I’m deaf!”
She giggles. “That’s a-ma-zing,” she says, emphasizing each syllable.
Auggie takes to Clio like a duck to water. She matches him beat for beat, and it’s incredible to watch. He went from shy and withdrawn to energetic and talkative in the blink of an eye.
“Do you mind if I talk to your sidekick for a minute?” she asks him.
“What’s a sidekick?”
“It’s the hero’s helper. That’s your Uncle Noah, right?”
Auggie taps his chin, his face scrunched. “I guess…”
She straightens, and her smile dims a little as she looks at me.
It’s still there, but noticeably more forced.
“I’ve read through his IEP information, and I spoke to the teacher at his previous preschool, but I wanted to touch base to make sure there aren’t any misunderstandings where Auggie’s language and communication requirements are concerned.
I am fluent in ASL, but the program specifies that Auggie prefers spoken language. Is that correct?”
“I—uh—I think so. This is all new to me. We’re still figuring things out.” I feel like shit for not knowing the answer, but Clio doesn’t seem fazed by it; she nods and crouches to Auggie's level again.
“Hey Super Auggie, can I ask you somethin’?”
“Uh huh.”
“Do you like when people talk with their voices, or sign?” She signs as she’s speaking.
He shrugs. “I like talking, but sometimes I need to take a break.”
She tilts her head to the side, never breaking eye contact. I appreciate that she’s speaking to him like any other person, not treating him as if he’s incapable of understanding.
“Sometimes I turn off my ears, so I don’t have to listen anymore.”
“That’s a fun superpower.” She beams. “Can I tell you a secret?”
He nods excitedly.
“Sometimes it gets really loud in there, and I wish I could turn my ears off, too.”
“Maybe you could make a wish on your birthday to have superpowers like me!”
She wrinkles her nose. “Maybe I will. But hey, do you think you could tell me when you need a break? That way, you won’t miss anything.”
He shrugs. “Ok.”
“I think we’re gonna get along great.” Her eyes dart to me, and she gives me a reassuring nod. “Are you ready to meet your class?”
He glances through the open door at the nosy onlookers on the carpet. To their credit, they haven’t made a sound since Clio told them to catch a bubble, whatever that means.
“Can Uncle Noah come too?” he asks, his nervous energy returning.
“Absolutely!” Clio holds out her hand, and he holds it without hesitation. She guides him to the front of the class, and I take up residence next to the door.
“Ok, friends,” she says. “We have a new friend joining us today. This is Auggie. Everybody say hi.”
“Hi, Auggie,” they say in unison.
She lowers herself to her beanbag chair, leaving Auggie standing next to her. “Auggie, would you like to tell everyone about your superpowers?”
“I’m deaf,” he says proudly.
“What does deaf mean?” a little blonde girl in the front row asks.
“Don’t forget to raise your hand to speak, Emmy,” Clio says.
“Sorry, Auntie Cici,” she replies sheepishly.
“It’s ok. Now you know for next time.” Clio smiles affectionately at her.
“Deaf is when someone’s ears work differently than yours do.
It’s kind of like when you turn the volume way down on the radio.
For some deaf people, sounds and voices are very quiet, and others can’t hear at all.
Auggie has what are called cochlear implants that help him hear. Does anybody have any questions?”
“Why are you moving your hands like that?” the boy next to Emmy asks.
“It’s called sign language,” Clio says. “It’s how many Deaf people communicate.” She shifts her attention back to Auggie. “Why don’t you have a seat beside Emmy?”
He settles into the open spot and watches Clio with rapt attention.
She goes on to explain more about ASL and how to communicate with Auggie—always face him when you’re speaking to him, don’t shout or raise your voice, and gently tap him on the shoulder to get his attention if he’s taking a hearing break.
She emphasizes that Auggie’s hearing difference is just a part of who he is, like someone’s hair and eye color are just a part of who they are.
When they have a decent grasp of things, she even teaches them a few signs like ‘hello’ and ‘thank you.’
I’m impressed, but I’d never tell her that.
A short while later, she sends the kids off to play and joins me at the door.
“He’s a great kid,” she says.
I mumble my agreement. “Where did you learn ASL?”
“My Aunt Penny was deaf.” She doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t ask, but I don’t miss the past tense. “You can stick around if you want, but he’s good here.”
I nod and push away from the wall. “I’ll just let him know I’m leaving.”
I find Auggie next to Emmy at a sensory table filled with colorful sand. “Hey, bud. I’m gonna get going.”
“Bye, Uncle Noah,” he says, wrapping his arms around my legs. The gesture is so unexpected that it takes me a moment to return it. An unexpected warmth spreads through me.
“Aunt Emma will be here in a few hours to pick you up, but if you need me, you tell Miss Clio, and she’ll give me a call, alright?”
“Ok.” He thrusts his hands elbow deep into the sand.
I ruffle his hair one more time and make for the door, hesitating as I watch Auggie interact with the other kids. A sudden pang of guilt stabs me somewhere in the vicinity of my heart—at least it would if I still had one. Fuck, he looks so much like Jonah.
CLIO
“You have that look again,” Callie says from behind the large mahogany desk in the Willow Valley Public Library. “What did you do this time?”
I lean across the surface and give her my most innocent eyes, knowing full well I’m anything but innocent. “Now, why would you assume I did anything?”
“Because I know you, and I know you like to poke the bear.”
“There was no poking,” I say defensively. “There may have been some… playful nudging.”
“Clio.”
“Ok, I played my music a little too loud, and he threatened to evict me.”
“And what time was this?”
I wince. “Who can say, really. Seven-ish?”
She glares at me in a stunning role reversal. If you didn’t know I was born first, you’d think Callie was the older sibling. “Ok, fine, it was like five. In my defense, he’s kind of an asshole.”
I follow her down the aisle as she pushes the cart toward the fiction section.
“Clio Marsden! Even I would consider murder if you woke me up at five o’clock in the morning.
You should be glad you’re only facing an eviction.
” She pauses in a small alcove with a set of cozy, mismatched furniture.
“You could always come stay at the ranch if he ever makes good on it, you know.”
I thumb through the pages of a bodice ripper I pilfered from the return pile, relaxing back in the armchair. “And how would Jaxon feel about that?”
“He wouldn’t mind. Jax loves you guys.”
“I think you mean Jax loves you, and he’d do anything you asked.”
She smiles wistfully, her gaze slightly unfocused. “Yeah. There’s that, too.”
“I’ll be fine. Noah’s harmless.”
Janet appears out of nowhere like a phantom. “That’s not what I heard.”
Callie startles. “Jesus, Janet. You have to stop sneaking up on people.”
Intrigued, I lean forward in my chair, setting down the worn paperback. “What have you heard?”
“Not much. I know he cut his brother off a while back. Now he’s looking after his nephew ‘cause Jonah got himself into a pickle.”
“What kind of pickle?” Callie asks.
“Jail. They’re saying he’s the reason his girlfriend overdosed last year. Now, that little boy’s practically an orphan.”
A wave of guilt washes over me at the realization that my harmless fun might’ve made a difficult time even worse.
He was always a bit stoic and grumpy, but I chalked it up to first impressions.
I figured his icy demeanor would thaw over time, and I could win him over, but the only time I’ve seen him soften was when he dropped Auggie off for his first day of school.
I didn’t recognize that version of Noah, but I was mesmerized.
Janet continues in a hushed tone. “From what I’ve heard, Noah Weston knows how to hold a grudge. If he can’t forgive his own brother, I’d wager he wouldn’t think twice about throwing you out on your ass.”
I exchange a look with Callie.
“Food for thought.” Janet strides back the way she came, leaving me to wrestle with the knowledge that I might’ve been the asshole in this situation.
Aunt Penny taught me to live life without regrets, but that doesn’t mean skirting accountability when the situation calls for it. I fear this may be one of those times.