The Snowstorm

  THE SNOWSTORM

  By

  S. K. McClafferty

  Copyright © 2012 by S. K. McClafferty

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidence.

  From the moment Lara Pembrooke laid eyes on her son Eli in the delivery room at Mercy Hospital, she knew he was special. A baby fresh from the security of his mother’s womb was expected to react to outside stimulus with a loud cry. As a nurse in the neonatal unit at Mercy, Lara knew that a silent baby was usually the first indication that something wasn’t right.

  Eli was Lara’s first child after several years of trying to get pregnant. His arrival had been greatly anticipated. Every rule for expectant mothers had been meticulously followed. Diet, rest, and exercise. She’d even brought iPod and headphones to work and listened to Mozart during her lunch break, convinced her own serenity affected the baby positively. Every care and precaution had been considered for nine long months to insure a successful outcome, and when the moment finally arrived, there was only a tense silence. The cord was clamped and cut, and a nurse whisked Eli away to towel him off and wrap him. His mouth was suctioned. They massaged him. And the waiting quiet stretched long and painfully.

  “Michael,” Lara said, grabbing her husband’s hand. “He’s not crying! Oh God, what’s wrong with my baby?”

  Michael gripped her hand tighter. He’d been every bit as diligent through the pregnancy as she—maybe even more so, because he was achieving his dream of having a son. At forty-five, a successful engineer, he’d done everything within his power to assure a healthy, happy child, and complications were not part of his plans. “Dr. Albright?”

  “Easy, Mom and Dad,” the OB/GYN said. “Little guy’s doing fine. Breath sounds are good and his lungs are strong. He’s just quiet, that’s all. Give him a little time and he’ll be keeping you awake at night.”

  Lara had gratefully accepted the doctor’s expert opinion. She was the best in her field, and she had a stellar reputation. Best of all, she had kids of her own. For the time being, Lara and Michael had their baby boy, and everything was perfect in their world.

  Almost.

  As the weeks sped by, Eli’s silence was unbroken. He was the best baby Lara had ever seen. At two A. M. sharp, Lara’s painful breasts would wake her, and sleepily, she’d walk to the nursery to find Eli, wide-awake, his attention riveted on the snowflake and snowman mobile she’d placed above the crib. His arms and legs would he pumping in excitement, his eyes bright and wide, but he didn’t make a sound aside from a sharp inhalation of breath as he struck at the blue and white snowflakes suspended above the crib.

  Lara’s visits to the pediatrician were the first real indication that Eli’s behavior was a little outside the norm. Lara made the decision not to return to work. Other infants younger than his nine months were vocalizing, cooing, and smiling, making eye contact with their mothers. Eli fidgeted on Lara’s lap, but he didn’t make a sound. He wanted down. He wanted to explore everything, touching, tasting, banging on surfaces—and while she understood that a certain amount of this was expected, it was causing a little friction at home. If she asked Michael to babysit so she could run errands, she returned home to a litany of complaints. Eli wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t sit. Was reluctant to eat. He wouldn’t make eye contact. Michael was convinced he was hearing-impaired.

  Lara talked to Dr. Wagner, who scheduled tests. His hearing was fine. His startle reflex was normal, but he did seem too inwardly focused, and the doctor suggested further testing.

  At two, Eli displayed an uncanny ability for breaking away from his parents. He didn’t just toddle. He ran on tiptoes, with speed and agility frightening in one so young. He would wriggle from Lara’s grasp and the moment his little feet hit the floor, he was gone. A time or two they were out of doors when this happened, and he almost reached the street before she caught him. She bought him a baby harness and a leash, but Michael refused to use it. “I’m not going out with him wearing a harness. He’s not a dog, for Christ’s sake!”

  “It’s for his safety, Mike, c’mon. And it isn’t for long. He’s just a little hyper. He’ll outgrow it.” Yet, even as she said it, Lara wondered.

  The pediatrician mentioned autism, and Michael made quite a scene, storming out. Lara struggled to cope for another year, but Michael was growing distant. He spent twice as much time at his office, and when at home, was almost as remote as Eli was. He insisted they take down the mobile, but with the snowflakes and snowmen gone, Eli refused to stay in his crib. He would be awake at all hours, roaming the apartment, getting into dangerous situations. Lara insisted the mobile be replaced, and Eli was once more content.

  At three, Eli was average height and weight, an expert at constructing towers out of blocks, and totally uncommunicative. He wasn’t ready for potty training, and still refused to make eye contact. His pediatrician diagnosed him as autistic, but Lara was resistant to the concept. Autism was an unknown, and therefore frightening. She continued to lavish him with attention, hoping some of it would penetrate his protective layers, but Michael grew increasingly impatient with the boy’s imperfection. Life had thrown him a curve ball, and he couldn’t deal with it. He’d planned for the perfect son, a child in his own image, and instead, he’d gotten Eli. “He was in my briefcase, again! Damn it, Lara! Do something with him!”

  “Do something?” Lara shot back. “Why don’t you do something? Like keeping your stuff put away. That’s why you have an office, with a door, and a lock.”

  “I shouldn’t have to stick everything up my ass to keep it away from him!”

  Lara frowned at him. “Him? Excuse me, but he’s our son! Don’t you dare depersonalize him.”

  “Oh, like he’d realize it if I did! Jesus, don’t you get it? Nothing penetrates. Nothing gets through to him.”

  “He needs some time, that’s all. It’s a developmental delay. He’ll be fine.”

  “He’s three years old. He doesn’t respond to either of us, and doesn’t even recognize a command. For Christ’s sake, Lara! It’s as if he’s living here alone! He doesn’t even know that we’re here, let alone that we’re his parents!”

  “He’s our son, Michael!”

  “Yeah, and I almost wish he weren’t,” he said harshly. “The doctor suggested a special school, didn’t she? Well, maybe it’s time we look into it.”

  Lara had sucked in a shocked breath, and she was almost glad that the comment would go unheard by Eli, who’d found his blocks, and sat in a corner, totally focused on building. “I can’t believe you said such a horrible thing. We worked so hard to have a baby.”

  “We sure did,” Michael said with a harsh laugh, “and look what we got.” He raked his hand through his short brown hair. “Look, I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this anymore.” He walked to the bedroom, and took a suitcase from the closet, which he methodically filled with his belongings.

  Lara watched from the doorway. She hugged herself to keep from reaching out to him. “That’s it? You’re leaving?”

  “Well, at least you get that much.” He finished packing and closed the bag. “I’ll stay at the office until I find a place.”

  He went out without another word, and he didn’t even glance at Eli.

  ***

  For the first time since Eli’s arrival, Lara was forced to face reality. Coping with a child who had developmental issues was hard for any couple. Coping as a single mother was doubly difficult. Michael didn’t call, or text, and she was too stubborn, and too proud to contact him. She waited a day, and then a week, and then two. When he finally arrived, he came with a friend to pick up the rest of his things.

  Eli was down for his nap, and Lara stood in the doorway to the bedroom she’d shared
with Michael, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

  Jimmy Catz, Michael’s friend nodded politely as he moved past her. She could tell he didn’t want to be here. A favor for a friend could get damned uncomfortable. “Hi, Lara. How you doin’?”

  “I’ve been better,” Lara admitted. “Tell Jenny I said hello, will you?”

  “I’ll do that.” He helped carry box after box to the hallway and down the stairs. The last box was left for Michael.

  Now, the moment had come to face off, and Lara’s heart was beating so violently in her chest she thought she’d be sick. “So, you’re really going to do this? To us? To Eli?”

  Michael‘s tone was impatient, and very final. “I don’t expect you to get it, Lara, but there’s nowhere for us to go from here. As for Eli—he doesn’t even know I exist. How’s he even gonna know that I’m gone?”

  “How can you be so unfeeling?” she wondered. “He’s a little boy! He needs both his parents! Especially now.”

  A grim smile. “God, you’re so freaking oblivious. Even now. You don’t get it, do you? He’s not normal, Lara! He doesn’t need parents—he needs a keeper! Someone to make sure he’s fed and warm, and to change his diapers till he’s forty. If you really want to do that, then that’s fine. But I don’t. I’ve wasted enough of my life on something that just can’t be fixed.”

  Lara’s eyes burned, but they were curiously dry. A deep ache had blossomed in her chest. Heartache. Why was she surprised? Her life had disintegrated before her eyes. “You callous bastard. Don’t even try to get custody. If you do, I’ll fight you!”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t fight you on that one. I don’t want the little retard.”

  “You’d better get a lawyer, you piece of shit. You’re sure as hell gonna need one!”

  He pushed her back and let go, then took the box and stomped out. Lara staggered back till her knees bumped the mattress. Then, she slid to the floor and huddled in a miserable heap.

  She wasn’t sure how long she sat crying, but she finally heard the rattle of Eli climbing out of his crib. From the age of two, it had been impossible to keep him contained in it, so she’d modified it to a three-sided youth bed that allowed him to come and go as he pleased inside the apartment. The place was baby-proof—anything he might injure himself with was kept under lock and key—even the flatware and cooking utensils.

  Little footsteps padded, then ran from the nursery and down the hall, past her room. It took her a few more seconds, then, she picked herself up off the floor, blew her nose, and went to find her son.

  It was early January, and after a prolonged autumn, winter had finally arrived. Overnight, Beaver County had picked up an inch or two of snow—just enough to turn the city street slushy and the window ledge pristine and white. Eli stood on a small stool he’d dragged to the window, fascinated by the frozen precipitation. He repetitively jammed a chubby finger into the glass, trying to scoop it up.

  Her heart still breaking, Lara got down beside him and hugged him close. “It’s snow, baby. Can you say it? S-s-now. S-s!”

  He didn’t try to imitate the sound, but he did bang the glass insistently.

  “Tell you what,” Lara said, gathering him in her arms. “If you’ll have a little breakfast, Momma will get you dressed in warm clothes, and we’ll go outside so you can see the snow. Would you like that?”

  He didn’t respond, but he also didn’t resist when she carried him away from the window, and for once he actually ate his breakfast of oatmeal and maple syrup. Lara was encouraged.

  She took him to the park down the block and, with his harness in place, let him play in the snow. He didn’t fall in it like other children, or make snowballs. He scooped it into a glove hand and peered intently at it, fascinated by the substance itself. It was much later, when she found a drawing on his nursery wall in crayon that she understood. It was crude, and unsteady, but very definitely a snowflake, drawn through the rungs of his crib.

  Lara’s emotion clogged her throat, and it was a full minute before she was able to speak. She pointed at the drawing, speaking slowly. “S-s-now! S-s-now!”

  His round little face registered no change of expression whatsoever, but after several repetitions he did hold out a chubby baby hand in the direction of the snowflake.

  Encouraged, Lara touched his chest with gentle fingers. “Eli! Yes, Eli!” Then, she touched the drawing. “Snow!”

  Without looking up, he raised a hand to grasp at the mobile.

  “You got it!” Lara cried. “You understood! Oh, thank God. You understood.”

  Two days later, she and Eli sat in Dr. Wagner’s office. “Virginia, I’m convinced we had a breakthrough. He responded to the word snow.”

  “He spoke to you? That’s quite a breakthrough.”

  Virginia was short and plump, with sandy hair and hazel eyes. She wore a minimum of makeup, and was always upbeat, the thing Lara liked most about her.

  “He didn’t vocalize, exactly. He pointed. But it was still a response, and the first of its kind. He’s never done that before.”

  “Any response is good, Lara, but I would caution you that with this type of broad-spectrum disorder, this little guy is going to need extra-special care, and that sort of thing can’t begin too early.”

  Lara’s heart fell to her shoestrings. She’d pinned her hopes on Virginia understanding, and now, this? “You want me to send him away?”

  “Lara, it’s a day school, and I want you to think about it. It will allow him the opportunity to get the stimulation he needs from experts in the field, in order to develop to the best of his own abilities. I am not suggesting an institution. This isn’t the Dark Ages. There’s a very good center, just an hour away.”

  “An hour? Virginia, he’s a baby!”

  “He’s a baby with very special needs.” She sat down on the corner of her desk and faced Lara squarely. “Look, Lara. I’m not suggesting you make a decision today. What I am telling you is that the longer the delay, the more set in his patterns he will become. It’s best to start very early, so don’t delay too long. If you like, I can make a few calls and set something up. Dr. Fitzgerald is a friend of mine. He’ll be happy to talk to you about testing, and he will arrange a tour of the facility.”

  From the moment she’d found out she was pregnant, Lara’s number one priority had been to protect her baby. She gave him the best nutrition, the best prenatal care, the best hospital in the area. Now, faced with the prospect of putting his care into other hands, she was on the verge of panic.

  Virginia seemed to understand. “Think about it,” she said. “And give me a call next week.”

  Emily Hatcher had been Lara’s best friend since the fifth grade. Em lived a few hours away, but they kept in contact by email, phone, and video chatting. As soon as Lara got home, she phoned Em. Eli had fallen asleep in his car seat on the way home, and she sat the seat on the floor in the living room. The carpet under foot softened the sound of her pacing.

  “Hey, chickie,” Emily said when she picked up. “How’s it going?”

  Lara struggled to hold her emotions in check. “I’m falling apart, Em. Michael’s gone, and they want me to send Eli to a special school.”

  “Like a preschool?”

  “A heavy duty preschool. He’d be gone all day, every day, and I’m having a real problem letting go. He’s such a little guy, and he doesn’t warm up to people. He hasn’t even warmed up to me.” She choked down a sob. She was crying now, full-force.

  “Aw, honey.”

  “What am I gonna do, Em? I love him so much. I just can’t lose him like this.”

  “Lara,” Em said. “You’re not going to lose him. They want to help him. It’s not like a group home, right? Sweetie, you’re just overwhelmed, that’s all. You need to get away, to have some time just to think.”

  “I can’t leave him, Em. I just can’t.”

  “You don’t have to leave him. Listen, why don’t you throw some stuff in a bag and make the
drive to Marionville? I talked to Jim last night, and there’s plenty of wood. We’ll be coming up on the weekend, but you’ll have the place to yourself until then. Maybe you can make a snowman. There’s nothing like playing in the snow to bring some perspective.”

  “I don’t know,” Lara said. “The last thing I want to do is impose.”

  “You’re not imposing! For heaven’s sake!” Someone spoke in the background. “Lara, listen. I’ve got to go. The key’s hanging on a nail above the door. Maybe I’ll see you this weekend.”

  Lara hung up the phone, feeling foolish. Maybe Emily was right. She did feel overwhelmed—and had, ever since she realized how special Eli was. It was her job to protect him, to make sure that he was safe and loved. So many things that the fully functioning world took for granted were a danger to Eli: a butter knife, a raised toilet lid, an open door. . . maybe even Michael, his own father.

  How could she trust that responsibility to someone else? Someone she didn’t even know?

  Even the thought raised a certain amount of panic.

  He was everything to her. Her world. How could she ever let him go?

  “Oh, God,” she said aloud. “I’ve got to get a grip, and I can’t do it here.” She thought about Emily’s cabin, and her generous offer, and suddenly getting away from the apartment and memories of Michael seemed like a lifeline.

  Lara grabbed onto it. Better that than to drown in her own indecision and panic.

  Lara had been to the cabin several times, and she felt at home there. It was a long drive made less tense by the sounds of the baby in the back seat. He didn’t always like to be in his car seat, because he didn’t like being restrained, but this afternoon, he was thoroughly occupied with an old snow globe she’d found in her closet. It had been a gift from her grandmother many years ago, and it contained a scene with children skating on a frozen pond. Glancing in her mirror, she saw him turning it over and over in his fat little hands, and from the look of concentration on his chubby face Lara knew that the world could have come to a screeching halt right then and there and Eli wouldn’t have noticed.