Mute Songbird (boyxboy) -Complete-

Making Plans

On Friday, Dan was standing in the hallway just outside the choir room when I arrived. I was super surprised to see him not rushing in at the last moment until I realized he was waiting for me. We hadn't really talked much since he'd come over to my house, although he'd smiled and said 'hi', so I had no idea what was up or why he was guarding the door.

"Hey Asher?"

I looked at him and raised my eyebrows.

"Any chance we could get together this weekend and study for the Trig test? I mean, you probably don't need to study so I guess I should ask if there's any way you could help ME study? At least enough to not tank my semester grade?"

I nodded. I actually did need to study because I'd missed more than half of the stuff that would be on the test. Mr. MacAfee had given me a list but it would be nice to go through Dan's homework and notes and see exactly what they had done.

"Which day? Saturday?"

Affirmative.

"Not too early though, please? After lunch, like 2?"

I pressed my hand to my chest, then pointed at him, finally turning my hand upright.

"Oh either one, I know where your place is so I can just come over there?"

I nodded just as Mrs. Clark peeked her head out of the door. "Are you two planning on joining us today?"

I shot her an apologetic smile before taking my seat. That day, I actually managed the chorus of the song they'd been working on all week. It was a good start and you know what they say about starting; it's always the hardest. It made my day.  Dan had mouthed 'see you tomorrow' as he left, and I had to admit that I was looking forward to it. A lot more than I should be.

I was still pretty spaced out when my history teacher called my name soon after a note was delivered by an office aide. He told me to take my things so I packed everything up and headed to the Vice-Principals' office where a woman was waiting for me.

"Hi Asher, I'm Mrs. Maldonado. I'm the SLP for the school district, you're familiar with the term?"

I nodded, I'd seen several speech-language pathologists since my stroke but wasn't expecting to see one here.

"Come with me to my office, please."

I followed behind, more perturbed than anything. I had managed to broker a deal with my mom that I would go to the private sessions she planned and skip those at school. Her reasons for agreeing were simple; she didn't want to fight with me about it and she assumed (probably correctly) that someone with experience dealing with stroke victims was going to be more helpful than the school's pathologist who was more used to dealing with diction issues or stutters. So, long story short, I had no idea why I had been pulled out of class but it was history, so at least I wasn't missing anything. During class today he had literally had people taking turns reading paragraphs out of the book because he'd given up on my classmates actually doing ANY homework. Me though, I could read at home. A lot faster, too.

"So Asher" she said, sitting down and motioning me to do the same. She slid a pad of paper towards me and then asked me, in sign language, if I signed. Small I signed back and she pointed to the paper. "Why aren't you signed up for therapy?"

Therapy at hospital, mom sets up.

"How often?"

2/week

"That's not enough Asher. Have you considered 'Constraint-induced therapy'?"

I just shrugged and nodded no, the words didn't mean anything to me.

"Your comprehension skills are amazingly good considering your complete lack of speech. Do you have any sounds or words?"

I shook my head 'no'. Sounds, yes. Words, no. Even when I did manage to say them, I couldn't repeat them or even usually remember what I'd just said. My brain just couldn't quite do it. Except when I sang and even then, it didn't FEEL like I was talking or even really thinking about them.

"Is it true you can sing?"

I nodded.

"Asher, I believe you're a strong candidate for CIT. It's very intensive therapy, and I would be happy to work with you for the rest of the school year and then go into half-day therapy sessions over the summer. Here's some information, take it home to your parents please."

She handed me, no kidding, about 14 pamphlets. I couldn't help but think of Miss Pillsbury on Glee. She had hilarious pamphlets with titles like 'So, you like throwing up' and 'Wow! There's a hair down there!' and I was almost afraid to look. I shoved them into my bag and decided I'd let my mom deal with it.

"I'll pull you out of class on Monday and we can discuss things, okay? Is last period a good time for you?" she asked, standing.

I did too and nodded, she could get me out of history anytime she wanted to.