Magic Hour

All the while, Alice watched her, looking worried.

“I’ll be right back, Alice,” she said to the girl hidden in the foliage, then followed her sister downstairs.

At first glance, the living room seemed full of people. On closer examination, Julia saw that there were only three men and one woman. They simply appeared to take up a lot of space.

“Dr. Cates,” said the man closest to her, moving forward. He was tall and scarecrow thin with a nose big enough to hang an umbrella on. “I’m Simon Kletch, from the state’s therapeutic residential care facility, and these are my colleagues: Byron Barrett and Stanley Goldberg, from the Behavioral Sciences lab at the U.W. You know Ms. Wharton, from DSHS.”

Julia said evenly, “Hello.”

Ellie went to the kitchen and stood by the counter.

A silence fell. They all stared at one another until Ellie asked them to sit.

And still it was too quiet.

Finally Simon cleared his throat. “Rumors are that this girl in your care is a wild child, or something close to that. We’d like to see her.” He glanced up the stairs; his eyes glinted with excitement.

“No.”

He seemed surprised by that. “You know why we are here.”

Julia could hear his eagerness. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“You’re making no progress with her.”

“That’s hardly true. In fact, we’ve made huge strides. She can eat and dress herself and use the toilet. She’s beginning to communicate, in her way. I believe—”

“You’re civilizing her,” the behavioral scientist said sharply, peering at her through small oval glasses. A sheen of sweat sparkled on his upper lip. “We need to study her, Dr. Cates. As she is. We men of science have sought a child like this for decades. If taught to talk, she can be a gold mine of information. Think of it. Who are we in the absence of one another? What is true human nature? Is language instinctive? And what is the link between language and humanity? Do words allow us to dream—to think—or vice versa? She can answer all these questions. Even you must see that.”

“Even I? What does that mean?” she asked, although she knew.

“Silverwood,” Dr. Kletch said.

“You’ve never lost a patient?” she said sharply to him.

“Of course I have. We all have. But your failure was public. I’m getting a lot of pressure to take over this girl’s case.”

“I’m her foster parent as well as her therapist,” Julia said. She didn’t call Dr. Kletch a bottom-feeder by sheer force of will. Of course he wanted to “help” Alice; she could advance his career.

“Dr. Kletch believes that the minor child belongs in a therapeutic care facility,” said the woman from DSHS. “If you can’t assure us that you’ll get her talking and find out her name, then—”

“I will get her talking,” Julia said.

“We need to study her.” This from the behavioral scientist.

“And learn from her,” added Dr. Kletch.

Julia stood. “You are like all the doctors who have been associated with children like this in the past. You want to use her, treat her like a lab rat so that you can write your papers and find fame. When you’ve sucked her dry, you’ll move on and forget her. She’ll grow up warehoused and behind bars and medicated beyond recognition. I won’t let you do it. She’s my foster child and my patient. The state has authorized me to care for her, and that’s what I intend to do.” She forced a thin smile. “But thank you for your concern.”

No one spoke for a moment. Julia turned to the social worker. “Don’t be fooled by them, Ms. Wharton. I’m the one who cares about this child.”

Ms. Wharton bit her lip nervously and looked at the doctors, then at Julia. “Get the child talking, Dr. Cates. There’s a lot of interest in this case. A lot of pressure being put on our office to move her into therapeutic residential care. Your history and the media frenzy doesn’t sit well with my boss. No one wants another incident.”

Ellie stepped forward. “And that’s the end of the meeting. Thank you all for coming.” She walked through the room, herded the crowd toward the door.

The doctors were arguing, sputtering, gesturing with their hands. “But she’s not good enough,” one of them said. “Dr. Cates isn’t the best doctor for that child.”

Ellie smiled and pushed them out the door, locking it behind them.