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The Weight of Silence

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2018
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“Go on outta here, Ben. Me and Calli are just having a talking lesson. Go on now,” he said.

“Stop it!” I yelled. “Leave her alone! She can’t say it, she can’t do it! If she could, she would’ve already! Leave her alone!” I know. I couldn’t believe it myself. You stopped crying and both you and Dad looked at me like Martians had landed or something.

“Stay out of it, Ben. Go on to your room,” he said in a quiet voice, but I knew he meant business.

“No. Leave her alone, she can’t do it!”

Dad stood up real quick and dumped you on your butt to the floor. And I yelled, “Run, Calli!” But you didn’t. You just sat there on the floor and looked up at us.

“Fabulous,” Dad said all huffy. “I got a retarded mute little girl and a smart-ass know-it-all boy. Fabulous. Maybe there’s another way to get her to talk. Stand up, Calli.”

You did, quick.

“Ben here thinks he has all the answers. Thinks that you can’t talk. Well, I know different, because I remember when you could talk. You yapped just fine. Maybe you just need a little incentive to get that mouth of yours going.” Then Dad swung out at me and hit me in the back of my head, about knocked my block off. You covered up your eyes again, but Dad pried your fingers down to make you watch. Then he belted me a few more times, in the stomach, on my back.


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