classmate of Sarah’s. And the Millers. We’ll be an odd number, so I asked Hazel Miller’s brother, Dirk Schyler, as well, to be Sarah’s dinner companion.”
Her father didn’t approve. “Hardly an appropriate choice. Why not one of the Astors. Surely they have an unattached son about the right age.”
“You aren’t arranging a marriage for me, Father,” Sarah reminded him. “I just need a dinner companion, and I’ve known Dirk for a long time.”
“You haven’t known him lately. He hasn’t turned out well. His father despairs of ever making a man of him.”
This confirmed Sarah’s assessment of Dirk as well. She thought she could lower her father’s opinion of him even more by telling him about Dirk’s excursions to Coney Island, but then she’d have to explain how she knew about them. She’d just made peace with the man, so this wasn’t the moment to inform him she was investigating a murder in her spare time. Their truce hadn’t covered arguing over something like that.
“Perhaps he just needs to settle down,” Elizabeth Decker suggested. “A good woman can work wonders.” She glanced meaningfully at Sarah, who pretended not to notice.
“I doubt even Sarah is up to a task like that,” her father said.
For once they agreed on something.
9
FRANK HAD LOCATED THE NEW YORK INSTITUTION for the Deaf and Dumb without too much trouble. It was, he had learned, a much older school than the one on Lexington Avenue. This one had been here over sixty years. A long time, if they were doing something wrong, Frank thought cynically.
This school was as silent as the other had been. He entered the main office. The young man working there as a clerk looked up. “May I help you?” he asked, moving his hands quickly in a way Frank had never seen before. Frank realized this must be the sign language Mrs. Brandt had told him about.
“I’m not deaf,” Frank told him, unconsciously speaking too loudly.
“Neither am I,” the boy replied with a smile, still using his hands. Now Frank was certain it was sign language. “Do you have business with Mr. Peet?”
“Is he the one in charge?”
“Yes, sir. His father founded the school.”
“Then I guess I do have business with him.”
“I’ll see if he’s free,” the boy said, and disappeared into an inner office.
Frank didn’t quite know what to expect when he was ushered in to meet Lewis Peet. He was relieved to discover Mr. Peet wasn’t deaf, and he didn’t use his hands when he spoke, the way the boy had.
Frank told him about Brian, and he listened intently.
“I went to the Lexington Avenue School first,” he told Peet.
“An excellent facility,” he said tactfully.
“They said they could teach my son to speak.”
Mr. Peet nodded. “I’m sure they did. Did they introduce you to a student who could speech-read and talk?”
“Yes,” Frank said. “His voice was a little odd, but I could understand him. He could understand me, too. If my son could learn to do that, he would be able to make his way in the world.”
“But the boy you heard speaking wasn’t born deaf, was he?”
Frank frowned. How could he have known that? “No.”
Mr. Peet nodded again. “When someone is born deaf and has never heard human speech or sound of any kind, it’s very difficult for them to ever learn to speak clearly. It’s also difficult for them to understand the concept of language, because they have no language of their own.”
Frank wasn’t sure he understood all of this completely, but some of it sounded reasonable. “You do something different here at your school than they do at Lexington Avenue,” Frank said. “You teach them to talk with their hands.”
“Yes, we teach them sign language. You may have seen deaf people using it in the street.”
“The boy outside used it.”
“He always does, if he suspects he might be talking to a deaf person. Sign language is a unique method of communication. Many people assume the signs are letters of the alphabet, spelling out words, but if you think about it, you’ll realize that would be a cumbersome method, and very slow and boring to use for actual communication. Actually, the signs are words, motions representing what we in the hearing world hear as sounds. A skilled signer can speak as quickly as you and I can speak with our voices, and one who understands the signs can comprehend as easily as you understand what I’m saying right now.”
“But how do they talk to people who don’t know the signs?”
“Ah, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Peet said, sitting back in his chair and steepling his hands in front of him. “If we could get everyone in the hearing world to learn sign language, then deaf people could get along just like hearing people. Since that doesn’t seem likely to happen, what does happen is that the deaf develop their own society. They work at trades which don’t require hearing or speech, they marry other deaf people to whom they can speak easily with signs, and they socialize with other deaf people.”
“Which means that the Lexington School has a better solution,” Frank said. “Their students can speak and read lips. They can communicate easily with hearing people and live in their world.”
“Except they don’t.”
“What do you mean?”
Peet smiled. “The theory behind the oralist method-that’s the method of teaching speech reading and speaking that the Lexington School uses-is to give the deaf students the skills to allow them to live and work and socialize with hearing people. In practice, however, they don’t do that. In fact, the graduates of the Lexington school have actually organized their own social club, the Deaf-Mutes Union League, which has only deaf members. They have lectures and meetings and dinners and balls for the deaf. They still associate primarily with each other, and work together and marry each other.
“Please understand, Mr. Malloy. I’m not criticizing what they do at the Lexington School. I’m simply pointing out that their results have not been any more successful than ours for most deaf people, especially if your goal is to give your son the skills he will need in life. And for someone like your son, who most probably would never learn to speak clearly enough to be understood or to read lips well enough to truly comprehend, it would be a frustrating and ultimately a fruitless experience.”
“Of course you think I should send Brian here,” Frank said, still trying to judge the validity of the arguments.
Peet smiled. “Your son is too young to send anywhere at the moment. When he’s older, I think he would do very well here, probably better than he would at Lexington Avenue. But you have some time to find out more about both theories of educating the deaf. In the meantime, I would suggest you meet some deaf people and find out their experiences. I’d be happy to introduce you to a family I know who has a boy about Brian’s age.”
“He’s deaf?”
“Oh, no. He can hear perfectly well, but his parents are deaf. However, he uses sign language quite well. He learned it before he learned to talk, to communicate with his parents. Perhaps he could help Brian begin to understand how to communicate.”
“A boy that young?” Frank thought of the intricate motions the clerk outside had used. He himself would have a difficult time learning such a thing, much less a boy of three.
“If Brian could hear, he’d be talking by now,” Mr. Peet pointed out. “I’m sure he’ll have no trouble at all learning to sign once he’s exposed to it. It will be his language. You could learn right along with him. You’d be able to talk to your son, Mr. Malloy.”
To be able to talk to Brian. To have Brain know who he was. The thought was stunning. Frank had long since given up hope of reaching his son. Until recently, he’d believed there was nothing inside of him to reach. But now…
