Mr. Pye, who is hearing, signs and speaks to Andrew. “We all use the signs. I can’t always remember who is deaf and who isn’t. What difference does it make?”
“You are being courteous,” Andrew says. “Scientific inquiry requires exact data.”
Mr. Pye and Miss Hammond nod and politely excuse themselves.
When Andrew meets Mr. Butler, Reverend Lee continues to interpret, “Andrew wants to arrange interviews with the island’s residents. Might you be willing?”
Before he can reply, Ezra Brewer steps right up and signs, “Aye, I’ll talk to ye and set the story straight.”
Andrew Noble seems pleased. Reverend Lee smiles weakly, and Papa winks at me. It is agreed that Reverend Lee will drive Andrew to Ezra Brewer’s house and act as their interpreter. I ask Papa if we can go too.
Papa says I may go along if I am under Reverend Lee’s care. He must return home to Mama. I know he worries about her.
I aim to see if Andrew talks more about asylums and witness how Ezra Brewer handles him.
Ezra Brewer warms up an old pot of tea and offers each of us a cup. If it wasn’t filled with sugar to cover the bitter taste, I would spit out my first sip. Reverend Lee and Andrew Noble hold their cups without drinking, and then set them down next to their chairs.
Ezra Brewer and I position ourselves so we can see Reverend Lee’s interpretation.
“My good sir,” Andrew says to Ezra Brewer, “I am studying the source of the widespread deafness in your town. As you probably know, any good scientist begins by creating a genealogy of the people he is studying. I hope you can help me with this.”
Ezra Brewer nods and launches into a recitation of the Lambert family tree, starting with the arrival of Jonathan Lambert in 1692. He also talks about the Skiffe family, who has more deaf descendants than we do.
I can see that Ezra Brewer is trying not to sign too quickly and to keep his sentences closer to English so Reverend Lee will not struggle to speak his words to Andrew. Even so, it seems hard for Reverend Lee to keep up with Ezra Brewer’s quick spelling on his fingertips.
Eventually, Andrew hands Ezra Brewer a piece of rag paper from his pocket. When he does so, a couple of letters fall to the floor. I am envious of all that paper. If it were mine, I could write down my stories.
Ezra Brewer takes an ink-dipped quill pen and draws a line across the page. Then he draws points along the line and writes down names. He underlines the ancestors he knows for sure were deaf.
He stops to sign, “Not sure some dates.”
Reverend Lee interprets, and Andrew assures him it is fine. He is happy to have his help.
I am deeply disappointed that there is no trickery in Ezra Brewer today. He is simply helping Andrew with his research.
After filling a few pages, Ezra Brewer hands back the papers.
“My dear sir,” Andrew says, “do you have a notion as to how your infirmity came to be so widespread in these parts?”
Do I see Ezra Brewer wince at the use of the sign for “infirmity”? We use a similar sign for “sickness” and “disease.” Deafness is not an affliction. The only thing it stops me from doing is hearing.
Ezra Brewer rubs his hands together to warm them up. A sure sign he is getting ready to tell a colorful story. My heart lifts.
“Let me think when it all began,” he signs, with Reverend Lee interpreting.
“Yes, I think it started in England, where the deaf settlers came from. Although there is some talk that they caught the ‘infirmity’ coming across on the great voyage.”
I have never heard that theory. Reverend Lee looks surprised as well, but he is too polite to interrupt Ezra Brewer.
Andrew asks Ezra Brewer, “Did they seem to have the effects of scurvy or other known illnesses?”
Ezra Brewer signs, “I’ve suffered from scurvy myself. Had to suck on lemons for weeks, I did. Nasty business.” He pulls down his lower lip to show us his gums.
Andrew looks impatient.
Ezra Brewer starts signing again, with a twinkle in his eye.
“Now the Black Death is a whole other matter. I have heard of men rendered deaf, dumb, blind, and without taste or smell. They went stark raving mad.” Ezra Brewer acts out the effects of the plague like he is a play actor.
“Yes,” Andrew says. His red slash of a mouth looks like he has been sucking lemons too. “That is old news. I am here to discover the cause of your deafness.”
“Aye, well, there is another theory,” Ezra Brewer signs, jerking his head and wiggling his left fingers. “I’d better tell him the story about Widow Merrill.” He is addressing me and Reverend Lee.
Reverend Lee begins to ask what story, but I nod my head and sign, “Yes, tell him the story.”
I don’t know what Ezra Brewer will sign next, but I can’t wait to see!
Ezra Brewer works his jaw and leans forward, so the fire gives his grizzled face a glow.
“It was the old Widow Merrill who related the terrible story. While she was pregnant with her second child, she went to the funeral of a neighbor. At the grave, a strange-looking young lady caught her attention. She looked otherworldly, especially her eerie gray eyes.
“Someone told Widow Merrill that the young lady was deaf. Widow Merrill had never met anybody with this ‘infirmity’ before. She was from Boston, not our island.
“Widow Merrill watched the young lady closely. When the coffin was lowered, she threw up her hands, raised her eyes, and uttered such a cry that turned Widow Merrill bone white.”
Ezra Brewer clasps his hands, and I feel him shriek at the top of his lungs. Reverend Lee and Andrew Noble almost fall off their chairs.
Ezra Brewer signs, “The image of the young lady and the sound of the cry were never far from Widow
