Elodie’s Voice

“I’m sorry. Elodie doesn’t speak.”

  Elodie doesn’t speak. 

  How many times had I listened to those words? I’m my eight years of life, I had not spoken. Not one word. Not ever. I simply watched. One can see so much if one payed attention. 

  For instance, I knew that Father has been in love with Susan for a very long time. And Susan loves him as well. But neither of them wants to peruse a serious relationship because my father is a lawyer, and Susan is my nanny. And Susan is precisely the one who must always say: Elodie doesn’t speak. 

  I don’t know why I don’t speak. I’m not stupid. Susan says I’m very intelligent for my age. I’ve thought on it many times, and I always conclude that there simply isn’t anything to say. I have the food I like, the toys I want, my favorite books... but I sometimes think I could try, just once. Just a whisper. So I would know if I could. 

  “Oh... I’m sorry. Have a nice day little one,” the white-haired lady behind the counter as she handed me my new book. I nodded solemnly and walked to the door, waiting for Susan. She thanked the woman and we left. 

  Susan has a way of talking to me as though she can get me to make conversation. 

  “So, what would you like for your birthday? Your father mentioned a kitten. Do you think you could be responsible enough for a kitten?” She asks with a smile. I nod and she keeps going, talking about all the wonderful possibilities of birthday gifts as we walk home. 

  One week later, I’m woken by Father singing the birthday song to me. He sang in a low and rough voice and it brought a sleepy smile to my face. He smoothed my tangled hair off my face and placed a kiss on my forehead. 

  “Get dressed them well have breakfast,” he said as he left my room. 

  We had my favorite chocolate cake for breakfast. After I finished my large glass of milk, Father and Susan brought me to the sitting room to give me their presents. Father gave me a gray kitten. She had pretty green eyes and black on the tips of her ears and toes. I named her Jo, after my favorite character in Little Women. Jo was sweet and docile, and I was in love right away. I was confused as I surveyed Susan’s gift to me. It was a dark, leather-bound notebook, with a string to tie it closed. 

  “It’s for writing. I figured it was time you could put those thoughts bouncing around that pretty head of yours somewhere.” She smiles shyly, I know she’s hoping I’ll like it. I do, so I nod and smile. Susan is my mother in every way that counts now. My mother died of cancer when I was only a year old. I don’t remember her on my own, but Father sometimes told me sad, sweet stories about what a great woman she was. She loved adventures and seemed larger than life. But Susan was there, and she loved me and looked out for me.

  After breakfast I sat at my desk in my bedroom and wrote. I wrote about Father, the mother I never knew, and Susan. I wrote how I felt about each of them and about why I don’t speak. Then I took Jo out to play. The backyard had a wooden fence encasing it, with a few trees to provide shade, with a swing hanging from one. 

  As we played, I began to feel a prickle on the back of my neck. I stood and looked around, my gaze settling on a forehead and set of brown eyes peeking over the fence. The eyes grew wide with surprise and guilt at being caught and disappeared behind the fence. I walked over to the gate, unlatched the lock, and steeped to the other side. I was face to face with a boy about my age. 

  “Hello,” he said. 

  I waved. 

  “I’m Caleb. I’m ten. My family moved in yesterday.”

  I knew that the house next door had new tenants. I had heard the moving trucks and the men working yesterday. 

  I nodded. 

  “What’s your name?”

  I’m not shy, so I take Caleb’s hand and lead him into my house, so Susan can speak for me. He doesn’t protest or try to stop me, which I appreciated. When we got to the kitchen where Susan was preparing lunch, I tapped her and gestures to Caleb. 

  “Oh!” She said. 

  “Hi. I’m Caleb. I just moved in next door.”

  “Nice to meet you Caleb. I’m Susan, I’m Elodie’s nanny. Elodie doesn’t speak, so you’ll have to excuse her dragging you in here. I do most of her talking for her.”

  I nodded. 

  “Why doesn’t she talk?” He asked, giving me a curious look. 

  “Well, the doctors say there’s nothing wrong with her, so she must just not want to talk.”

  He turned to me. “Do you go to school? I’m homeschooled because we have to move a lot.”

  I shook my head, then lead him into my schoolroom, waving my hand to present my textbooks. He chatted away about what books he had already read, which ones he wanted to read, whether he had used the same courses as I was using now. 

  I grabbed one of my notebooks as he continued talking, and wrote: 

  I think we’re going to be very good friends. 

  He smiled when he read it and agreed. 

  We played every day. We would tease Jo, create adventures, find special places to call our own, and set quests to complete. 

One day, he said “Hey! I have an amazing idea! We need to get your father and Susan together!”

  I beamed at him and nodded vigorously. I had been thinking for years on how to set them up. 

  We sat and worked all afternoon on the plan. Then, the next day, we put it into action. Caleb’s mom had agreed to cook a chicken and pasta meal, with starter salads, garlic bread, and strawberry cheesecake for dessert. I went to work on Susan, convinces her to dress up with me. I helped her pick a sleek navy dress and made her put a some light makeup on her face. I was ten now and knew these things were important. I never did find out how Caleb convinced my father to put on a suit, but I was grateful he did. Father was standing by the table waiting when Susan and I arrived. The table was big enough to put out all the elements of the meal, so Caleb and I could give them privacy. I dimmed the lights and pressed play on the speakers, which were now softly playing classical piano pieces. 

  That night was a full blown success. They began stealing shy kisses when they though I wasn’t looking, and going out more and more. I loved it. A year later they were married. Caleb and I both walked in the wedding. I surprised everyone when I stood and took the microphone from the DJ stand. 

  I took a breath, raised the microphone to my lips, and said, 

  “Hello”

  Just like you practiced, I told myself. I could see my father and Susan, beautiful in their wedding clothes, begin to tremble. Both of them were misty-eyed. 

  “I’m Elodie. In my eleven years, this is the first time I’ve ever spoken. That’s because nothing has ever been anything important to say until now.”

  My voice is rough from a decade of underuse, but my words are clear. I had been practicing for days. I could feel tears trickling down my cheeks as I looked at Father and Susan, both openly weeping. 

  “I just wanted to tell the both of you how much I love you, and how happy I am for you.” I turned to Caleb. 

  “And thank you Caleb, my best friend, for helping me get those two together. We know it took them long enough.”

  I looked at the people attending the reception, 

  “Thank you.”

  That night, we all sat and talked. I tried to keep up without straining my throat. Even Caleb she’s a tear, but a twelve year old boy would never admit it. Susan and Father went to bed earlier than usual because they were leaving in the morning for their honeymoon in the mountains. I would be staying over at Caleb’s house for the week that they would be gone. His parents had set up the spare bedroom for me. But tonight Caleb and I stayed up together for hours. He couldn’t get over the fact that I was speaking to him. When we finally said goodnight, Caleb placed

 a quick kiss to my cheek. 

  “One day, I’m going to marry you,” he said, “and you are going to say ‘I do’ loud and clear so everyone can hear you.”

  I smiled. 

  “Okay.”