The Hidden Truth

Chapter Thirty-Four: Interrogations

For the next several days I left Justice in charge at the house while I took the list he gave me and visited each and everyone of the addresses printed on it. I was happy that the list wasn’t very long but yet out of the six names he had given me not one of them was what I was looking for. Everyone I've talked to so far was either too old or no longer alive. 

As I arrive at the last house on the list I take a deep breath and exit the car. The house itself is an old one and not like any other on the block. The porch warps halfway around on my right side of the home and has two rocking chairs placed side by side. I shake my head thinking that there is no way that there is even a child living here. According to the paper in my hand there is a little boy that is staying here named Shane but other than that there is no more information on this said child.

I walk up the steps leading to what I assume is the main door to the residents and knock. A few minutes later an elderly woman leaning on a cane for support answers the door.

“How can I help you sir?”

“I’m looking for your grandson ma’am, is he here by chance?”

“Sir, I haven’t a grandson, just a son. Might I ask what you want with him?”

“Just to talk.”

“I’m sorry sir, but the boy doesn't talk.”

“I’m sorry to waste your time then, if he can’t talk then he's not what I’m looking for.”

“Sir, I didn’t say he can’t talk, just that he won’t talk to anyone.”

“I’m confused. Why is it that he won’t talk to anyone?”

“He lacks the social skills needed for speaking to others. The doctors call it selective mutism.”

“Oh! I might be able to help with that but first I would need to meet with the child to assess him.”

“Sir, I’m sorry but we can’t afford your services.”

“Ma’am, the assessment is free of charge.”

“Alright then, please come in.”

As I entered the home I found it surprising that the outside appearance looked shabby. Clearly someone has done some major work to the inside of the home and recently I might add. The interior appears to be at least two or three years old but built with fine quality materials. The trim around the door frames seem to be oak, maybe even cedar wood. Yet the smell is amazing. As I walk further in I notice that the home doesn’t have anything to indicate that a child lives here. There are no toys laying about or even a book or two strung around the rooms. I turn to the elderly woman and ask, “Are you sure your son lives here with you?”

She laughs as she assures me, “Yes, hun, he’s outside in the backyard playing.”

We then walk out the back door and there in the middle of the yard is a child squatting down doing something in the grass. He has blonde hair that almost looks as if it's white and skin just as brown as sand. As far as clothes go it would appear that this child would rather be free of the restraints.  

“Um, ma’am why is that child naked?”

“He refuses to wear clothes. Says they are too restricting.”

Just as I had feared but I needed to know more. “Where are his parents?”

“Dead. Mother has been gone for thirteen years now and his Father ran off shortly before that.”

“Thirteen years? There must be some mistake, he doesn't look a day over five.”

“Don’t let his small size fool you, that boy is a teenager all right. Every ounce of him.”