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“You are so lucky to have this many Legos. I didn’t have anything like this when I was your age. I used to play moms and dads, except I didn't really have any friends either, so I played both the mom and the dad. I wasn’t very good at it, though. I only ever had a mom, so I wasn’t sure what the dad was even supposed to do! But I copied what I saw on TV.”
He doesn’t say anything, so I continue.
“My favorite show was the Simpsons, but Homer… although he was funny, I can’t really remember him doing much around the house. That was always Marge. Oh, and I loved her hair! I always wanted to dress up as Marge for Halloween.” I glance over at him as he’s assembling a new part of the spaceship, still quiet as can be. “I never got to do Halloween. My mom used to say the candy would rot my teeth and that I had beautiful teeth.” He looks at me then, so I smile wide to show him my teeth, and he nods before looking back down at his masterpiece.
“But I had a really nice neighbor. Her name was Lilly, and sometimes she would sneak me some candy. My all-time favorite are Peanut Butter Cups. They are sooo good. I wish we had some of those right about now.” I hum as I briefly dream of the peanut butter and chocolate hitting my tongue. They are my favorite, but I haven’t had them in a very long time.
He looks up at me and smiles, before giving me a sly nod so I know he likes them too.
“Aside from the Simpsons, I didn’t watch a lot of TV, but Lilly used to have the radio on all the time. I love music and dancing, even though I am not very good at either of them.” I laugh, the memories filling my brain. As bad as things were, especially toward the end, Lilly was really my guardian angel. “My mom also used to play Dolly Parton a lot when I was growing up. So when I hear Dolly, it reminds me of my mom.” I look down at my hands and pretend I am concentrating on the Lego pieces as I try to push the tears back down that threaten to spill over my cheeks. His little hand comes out and touches mine, and I still.
“I'm okay, thanks,” I whisper with a smile, trying to get my emotions in check as I see the concern on his face.
I am by no means a teacher or a specialist with kids, but I have babysat a lot of them over the years, from all walks of life. I can tell when kids need extra support. This little guy sitting next to me can certainly hear me, and by the look of his Lego skills, both his gross and fine motor skills are perfect. From seeing his bookshelf, he can probably read, and his acknowledgement of my tears means he can sense others emotions and show empathy.
Yet he doesn’t talk.
“Why don’t you talk?” I decide to ask. Might as well just get straight to the point.
He just shrugs his shoulders in response.
So he can talk… he just doesn’t want to? A little girl back home that I babysat had Mutism, so it may be something similar. At the time, I read every book and watched clips on the web at the local library on the topic. Although I don’t have the qualifications, I saw what worked with her, so I will just treat this little boy the same and see what happens.
It can never hurt to try, right?
“There you both are!” a female voice says from behind me, and I turn to see the older lady who I saw in the kitchen when I first arrived.
“Hello, dear. I am Maria.” Her accent is thick as she introduces herself, taking a step toward me, and I stand quickly.
“Hi, I’m Annie.” I’m still a little startled, but her warm expression puts me at ease.
“Why don’t you both come downstairs. I have some snacks ready for morning tea.” Even though I am not really hungry, I already know there is absolutely no way to say no to this lady, as her face lights up and her eyes graze over my appearance.
Leo jumps up beside me and is already out the door, so Maria and I follow him.
“I’m the housekeeper and friend of the boys. Let me give you a quick tour. You haven’t been outside of the bedroom for days!” She sounds excited, and it makes me smile.
“Down here are a few spare bedrooms, each with their own private bathrooms. I nod as I look in the doors as we pass down the hallway, wondering if this is where wolfman sleeps.
“Downstairs here has all the living spaces, including an office, a small library, gym, and theatre room.” We walk down the stairs, her arm sweeping over the array of rooms and hallways that appear to be open for me to explore as I wish.
“It is a lovely home,” I say to her, which has her beaming.
“My dear, you have lovely manners.”
As we walk into the kitchen, I see the young boy already at the bench, eating the fruit and pastries Maria has prepared. She moves into the kitchen and starts getting busy making something on the stove.
“Can I help?” I ask as I begin to walk toward her. It is only right that I offer; I am staying here after all.
“No, darling, but why don’t you sit up at the bench for a while? You can watch and see how I do things?” she offers, and I nod before going and sitting next to the young boy, watching them both with interest.
This is all new, and the reason why I’m here is crazy, yet I feel so at home and welcomed.
“What are you cooking?” I ask her as I perch up onto a stool.
“Osso Buco,” She answers, her accent even thicker.
“Osso B...” I try to say.
