“You’ll feel a lot better, I bet, after you have a bath, won’t you, Calli? We’ll also get you something good to eat after X-rays. Sound good?” Calli bobs her head yes. I am hopeful that she will answer in words, but she does not. I need to be patient. At least now I know she can talk when she really needs to and I hold on to that fact.
Molly situates Calli onto a gurney and we make the journey toward X-ray. I notice that night has arrived in full force as we pass by the emergency room doors and I think again of Ben and Petra up on that bluff. I stop at the emergency registration desk to see if they had any word on Ben and the woman behind the counter tells me that Ben will soon be on his way to the hospital.
“He’ll catch a ride in the back of a police car and doesn’t need to be transported by ambulance. That’s good news,” she informs me. “He must be doing quite well, Mrs. Clark.”
Relief shoots through me. “That
“Sure thing. And sometime, when you get a few moments, there is some paperwork for you to fill out. Don’t worry about it until you get everything settled with your children.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. Everyone is so kind here and I briefly wish to be admitted here myself so people can fuss over me.
As Molly pushes Calli down the hallway, I see Dr. Higby with a woman coming our way. She is an older woman, perhaps in her early sixties, with iron-gray hair, glasses and beautiful skin. My mother’s skin had looked that way before she became ill, but I had never taken the time to appreciate it.
“Mrs. Clark, this is Dr. Kelsing,”Dr. Higby introduces me to the woman. “We share Dr. Kelsing with the hospital in Winner.”
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Kelsing.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, as well, Mrs. Clark. I understand that Calli has had a pretty rough day.”
“Yes, she has.” I suddenly feel shy under Dr. Kelsing’s gaze. Her eyes are sharp and intelligent and I have the feeling that few could pull anything over on her.
“Families who experience extremely stressful events such as yours are typically very hesitant to accept outside help. Most often they try to pull their family unit more tightly together in order to deal with the experience, try to deal with the effects on their own.”
We are outside the X-ray room when Molly says to Calli, “Calli, honey, we need to take your pictures now. We would like your mom to stand out here, because we don’t need to take her picture today. Just yours. You’ll be able to see her through this window, though, okay? You all right with that?” Calli nods yes.
“I’ll be right out here, Calli, watching you through the window,” I assure her. Molly wheels Calli into the X-ray room and I watch as they situate my little girl on the table, bending her arms and legs in different directions, trying to get the best angle for the picture. Calli looks so small, so young. The reality of it all burns at the back of my eyes and I press my fingers to my eyelids. I do not want to cry in front of these strangers.
I turn back to Dr. Kelsing. “I know I can’t do this on my own. Can you help us? Can you help Calli continue to speak?”
“I can’t promise you anything, Mrs. Clark, but we can work together to do what you decide is best for Calli. I have had some experience with selective mutism. I have information about it that may be useful for you, if you’d like.”
For some odd, unknown reason, I decide to trust this woman who has skin like my own mother’s. “I’m scared,” I tell her, struggling not to cry. “I’m so scared to find out why she stopped talking in the first place. But I’m even more scared…” The tears spill over and I bite my lip, willing them to stop. Dr. Kelsing does not speak, but waits for me to compose myself, and I like her even more for it. “I’m even more scared to find out what happened out in the woods that caused her to start to talk again.”
DEPUTY SHERIFF LOUIS
I watch as Martin struggles to keep it together as his daughter is lifted away by the helicopter. After she is out of sight and we can only hear the hum of the helicopter blades, he turns to me and says, “I have to get off this bluff. I need to get to Fielda and tell her that Petra is going to be all right.”
“We’ll ride the four-wheelers down. It will be quicker, and then I’ll drive you to Fielda first thing,” I tell him.
Awkwardly, Martin straddles the four-wheeler and clasps his arms around the officer who will transport him down the bluff. The officer gives Martin directions over his shoulder to hold on tightly to him, then the two are off into the thick of the forest. I hope that all will be well with Petra. She didn’t look good to me and I knew the stress of the transfer in the helicopter could be more than her little body could take. I walk over to where Ben is resting against the trunk of a tree. I can’t tell if he is sleeping or not, so I squat down next to him and shine my flashlight near his face to check. He is awake. The beating he has taken hits me full force as I take in his discolored cheek and swollen nose and eyes. Splattered blood stains his torn shirt and he is holding his side gingerly.
“Ben, how’re you doing? You ready to go down now? You think you can ride down on a four-wheeler?” I ask him.
“I think so,” he answers and I help him to his feet. “Can I ride down with you?” he asks. I look at my fellow officers and they nod in assent. The two of them climb onto one four-wheeler while I assist Ben in getting on the other.
“You hold on real tight, okay? Wrap your arms around me. If I go too fast and you want me to slow down, just squeeze me tight. I know you’re in a lot of pain, Ben, so let me know if you need to rest, all right?”
“All right,” he answers. “I just wanna get home and see Mom and see if Calli’s okay.”
“I’ll get you down there as soon as I can. Ready? Hold on.” I slowly ease my way into the forest. It is dark, probably much too dark to be traveling by four-wheeler, but we have little choice. We need to get Martin to Fielda and then to Petra, and we need to get Ben back to his mother. I have a feeling that Martin may have busted a few of Ben’s ribs when he tackled him. I hope that Toni will be able to forgive Martin that. It was a horrific sight, seeing Ben standing in front of Petra, holding that stick. If I hadn’t known Ben, I think that I would have jumped to the same conclusion that Martin had.
The light from the four-wheeler does little to illuminate the trail and I think that we might be better off ditching the quad and walking our way out, but we are making decent time. I know that the trail will become more even, less steep, the farther we go. I am sure that Ben can feel the pounding of my heart as he leans against my back. I have no clear vision of what is ahead of us and I can’t hear any noise except that of the engine and of sticks snapping as they crush beneath the wheels. I feel that I am both blind and deaf and I am more frightened than I care to admit. If what Ben has told us is true, then Griff is somewhere in these woods hiding, perhaps waiting to pounce. In my mind he is capable of most anything. I remove one hand from the handlebars and pat my revolver, double-checking that I have quick access to it.
“What about my dad?” Ben says over the engine.
“We’re just worrying about you and Petra and Calli right now,” I call back, hoping that Griff isn’t lurking behind some tree, overhearing what I’d just said. “It will be very difficult to find him tonight. We’ll go back out full force in the morning to find him. Don’t worry, Ben, I won’t let him hurt you.”
“I’m not worried,” he says. But I hear the drop in his voice, the uncertainty in his tone. I pat his hands that are wrapped around my waist, and I speed up; we are minutes now from the bottom.
Out of the corner of my eye I see something. The glow from the headlights of the four-wheeler shine briefly on a figure crouched among the trees. For an instant I think it could be a mountain lion, but that doesn’t make sense; mountain lions have not been seen in these woods for decades, well before I had even moved to Willow Creek. The angles and posture of the form are too human and I briefly consider stopping, but Ben is clinging to me and my first responsibility is to get him safely out of the forest. I take the four-wheeler up a notch and feel Ben tighten his grip around me. I don’t think he has seen what I have, but I’m not going to bring up the subject; Ben is going to have enough nightmares as it is, he doesn’t need me fueling more fears. I radio in a message that would be cryptic to Ben and any average listener, but the gist of it is that I need backup for when I return to the woods, after I drop Ben off at the bottom.
