As sharp and clear as fate was to Defect, the
same was to the crow that there was something worth picking up from the
ground. It glinted and disappeared with the sun’s glare and the shadow
of the clouds, shifty as a thief.
------
They said he must have been born this way.
They said it must have been a natural defect. I was not sure.
His grandmother insisted that he had a broken heart she could not mend.
She said she could not reach him. She wanted her baby back.
Please help me reach him, she said. My Cory is not abnormal.
He is not a defective baby. She got angry and grabbed my hand suddenly
with surprising strength for a bone-thin elderly lady. She looked
at me with deep green earnest eyes. Having a broken heart does not
make him abnormal.
He stands there as usual with his body facing
the spot where the huge mirror once was, few metres from the huge arched
window, little head turned at right angles to the window, hollow glazed
green eyes on the horizon, unresponsive as a twisted porcelain doll in
a china shop. Stiff and statue-like, he has been known to maintain
his vigil for hours and hours on end without moving a limb. Nor does
his eyes move from that spot on the horizon. I knelt in front of
him, held his hollow cheeks and gently turned his head towards me, only
to have him convulse and wriggle free to return to the enigmatic twisted
position. I called the nurse and together we endeavoured to break
his gaze. We succeeded in turning head and body towards the spot
where the mirror once stood, only to have his eyes strained in the direction
of the far horizon, deep green slivers in the upper right hand corner of
huge eye whites, dead-locked like he had been choked. And then he
spoke for the first time that we had ever heard him in a voice strained
too low and deep for a five-year old boy:
Mariah, Mariah, I did love you so-.
-----
The judgment had been passed, and the trials
suffered. After the crow’s negative conclusion to the edibility of
this particularly hard transparent egg, Defect was exasperatedly and unceremoniously
chucked on a windowsill like a used toy. It performed its usual dull
clickity clicks on the broad wooden board and after glancing off a stray
honeysuckle vine, rolled quietly to the middle of the window where it finally
settled in a spot of sun.
-----
Somewhere in the darkness, there was a light.
And it shone through the rain, distorted. Unlike the shifting huge
murmuring shadows, it was definitely there. Flickering and uncertain,
like a candle in the wind, it penetrated like the spot of sunlight through
the thick undergrowth of the black forest. She would be there, with
her wide kindly eyes, translucent and green in the searing light.
He would be able to join her there. He would never be alone again.
-----
Cory gasped like he had been stabbed and both
nurse and I instinctively released our grip. Did we hurt him?
We looked at each other nervously then returned our gaze in astonishment
to the little figure which had somehow managed to straighten itself without
any help and was now reaching for all that he was worth at a tiny speck
of shiny fleck on the windowsill. I stepped closer to the windowsill
and took off my glasses to examine the little globule among the overgrown
honeysuckle.
It was a marble.
He had loads of marbles and every toy a boy
his age could possibly want, all bought with the intention of bringing
little Cory back to reality. He had never shown any need for toys
or for any human affection or warmth for that matter.
It was also a broken marble.
He was wailing now. He could not reach
it, for all the height that he was worth. His lustreless eyes were
now wide and excited, sparkling with eagerness and tears. I was now
just as excited as he was, lifting his little cage of a body to the window.
Standing by, the nurse had her hands clasped together in hope. I
was torn between amazement, hope and ridiculousness. Broken marbles
were the last cure I could think of for autistic children.
He closed his hands slowly and gently around
the bead of glass.
So carefully, as if afraid to disturb it.
Like it was the Hope Diamond.
I thought he was going to pick it up.
But he stopped short. He stayed there like that, his hands cupped
protectively around the marble like a fence. The light danced in
his eyes like a fire. He smiled.


