Just Another Kid: Each was a child no one could reach – until one amazing teacher embraced them all. Torey Hayden

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СКАЧАТЬ in the chair nearest the doorway. I couldn’t have touched her, even if we’d both extended our arms.

      “I’m sorry you couldn’t come the other night. I had everything out to show you then, and I’m afraid I don’t now. This was a sort of spur-of-the-moment idea, asking you in. But it helps me tremendously to talk to both parents. Also, we had a most extraordinary thing happen in here today, and I was curious to find out how it compares with Leslie’s behavior at home.”

      Dr. Taylor simply sat, regarding me as I spoke. She had the most disconcerting ability to maintain eye contact, and she had the most exceptional eyes, which increased the discomfort caused by her staring. While her eyes were not unusually large, she had a way of widening them that made them seem enormous to me. The whole iris became visible, giving her that kind of cold, unblinking expression reptiles have. Or perhaps it came more from the crocodile color. Whatever, her gaze made me feel continually obliged to look away, and I was annoyed with myself for doing this.

      “How is Leslie at home? What’s she like to live with?” I asked.

      This caused Dr. Taylor to finally take her eyes off my face. She looked down, up, around, then back to me. She shrugged slightly. “Just Leslie.”

      “Listening to some of the things your husband was telling me on Friday, I get the feeling she must be quite a handful sometimes.”

      Another shrug.

      “Do you find the going a bit hard sometimes?”

      A pause, then a slight nod.

      “Can you tell me in what ways?”

      Another shrug.

      “Your husband says she doesn’t sleep very well.”

      She shook her head.

      “What happens?” I asked.

      “She gets up.”

      “Then what?”

      “Wanders around.”

      This conversation was like pulling teeth. In all my other encounters with Dr. Taylor, she gave me the impression that deigning to talk to me was something that she just couldn’t bring herself to do. It felt less that way now. I wondered if she was feeling threatened by this situation, or if she was guarding her private life.

      “Who gets up with Leslie when she wakes?” I asked.

      “I do, mostly.”

      “Do you just put her back to bed?”

      “If she’ll go.”

      “And if she doesn’t?”

      “Then I need to stay up with her.”

      “How often does this occur?” I asked.

      She shrugged slightly. “Every night.”

      “Every night?”

      Another shrug. “Every night I can think of.”

      “More than once a night?”

      Another shrug. “Sometimes.”

      “How often did you get up with her last night?”

      “Three times.”

      “That sounds exhausting,” I said.

      Dr. Taylor nodded slightly.

      “Do you do all the getting up then? Or does Mr. Considyne help sometimes too?”

      “He doesn’t usually hear her.”

      “So let’s see if I’m getting this right,” I said. “You correct me, if I’m not. You get up every night, two or three times. Sometimes you just resettle her. Sometimes you have to stay up with her.”

      “Well, not all night. Just until she goes back to sleep.”

      “I see. How much sleep do you get?”

      A shrug. “Enough.”

      “What if you just left her alone, instead of getting up each time to put her back to bed?”

      “She makes a big mess.”

      “I see. Have you considered using something like a Dutch door or a screen door to confine her to her room?”

      “My husband feels Leslie needs to do this. He says it makes her feel secure.”

      “Do you agree?”

      She shrugged. “I guess so.”

      A pause came into the conversation. I glanced down at the notes I’d hurriedly scribbled on my pad.

      “We had something unusual happen in here today,” I said. “There was a fight out on the playground this morning. I wasn’t down there because it was my break; I was upstairs. Then all of a sudden, there was Leslie. She’d come all the way up to get me, which alone would have been a surprise to me, but more extraordinary, she actually spoke to me. Meaningfully. It was just one word, ‘crying,’ but it was very appropriate to the situation. That’s what two of the other children were doing, and she wanted me to come down.”

      Dr. Taylor, who was watching me, displayed no change of expression whatsoever, as I told her this. She appeared neither surprised nor delighted.

      “She does that sometimes,” she said finally.

      “She does? I had no idea she talked at all. No one’s ever mentioned it to me.”

      “It isn’t very consistent.”

      “But she does speak?” I asked.

      “If that’s what you call it.”

      “How often?”

      Dr. Taylor wrinkled her nose and thought a moment. “Once a month, maybe. I don’t know.”

      I contemplated the matter. It had suddenly begun to rain outside, and I was briefly distracted by the sound against the windowpane. When I looked back at her. Dr. Taylor was staring at me again.

      “I think there’s a whole lot more to Leslie than meets the eye,” I said. “I wish I could work with her more intensively. I’m absolutely desperate for some auxiliary help in here. With all the cuts and everything in education, there doesn’t seem to be a way that the district can afford me an aide, which is a crying shame, really, given kids like Leslie. And unfortunately, I haven’t managed to track down any willing volunteers yet. But when I do, Leslie’s going to be right at the top of my list for some one-to-one work. I think she’s got more potential than she’s letting on.”

      Dr. Taylor had begun chewing vigorously on her thumbnail. She still regarded me steadily, and I had the impression that she was intending to speak, but seconds slipped by and the silence began to grow noticeable.

      “Did СКАЧАТЬ