Late Summer 1985
“Charlotte… Charlotte…” After several failed attempts at getting the two-year-old’s
attention, Mother called to her husband.
“Will you do something about Charlotte? She’s eating dirt again.”
Father looked up from his book and took a swig of his beer. He had been enjoying the
last hour of daylight while his wife prepared dinner. Older Sister was relaxing too.
Slumped in her folding chair, the six-year-old was still covered in thin yellow silks from
helping her dad to husk the five ears of Jersey corn that were now cooking over the
campfire in a pot of boiling water.
“Charlotte!” Father said, not quite yelling. But the dirt-covered toddler did not look up.
She never did, another warning sign that their daughter could be different.
As an infant, Charlotte had been prone to ear infections caused by excessive fluid in her
middle ear. Without intervention, the doctors said, these infections could lead to hearing
loss.
So they intervened and inserted tympanostomy tubes to help open Charlotte’s ears. The
infections had stopped. But the couple still had reason to worry. Because eating dirt was
the least of their problems.
Their daughter still wasn’t talking. No “Mamma.” No “Dada.” No “Up.” No “No.”
Unresponsive and mute is not a good look at nearly twenty-four months.
“Charlotte!” Father said one more time, before walking over and scooping his daughter
into his arms.
“Just sit her over there,” Mother said, pointing to the picnic table. “Dinner is ready.”
Father carefully positioned Charlotte in her high chair, passing the toddler’s arms
through the straps before securing the center clasp. Then he turned to help his wife
transport the trays of steaming corn and charred hot dogs to the table.
Behind her parents’ backs, Charlotte started twisting in her seat, struggling against the
straps’ restraints.
The couple didn’t notice. They walked back to the table together, unified in their parental
concerns. But Charlotte didn’t notice them either. She was focused on her mission, still
trying to break free.
Older Sister joined the table, and they started to eat. Then, with authority and
conviction, Charlotte said her first words, “Let me out. I’m stuck.”