Silent Genius

Chapter 1

January 2007

I’m in the hospital. Not the most ideal place for a twelve year old girl to be. I’d much rather be at school, getting ready to start my first day of grade seven with my friends. Sad, yes, but it would probably be better than listening to my mum yell at nurses while pushing a baby from between her legs. I’m not even meant to be here. But, because Tom was already at school and Dad at work, I was the only one in the house when Mum went into labour.

‘It’s crowning,’ the midwife laughs.

‘Tanna,’ Mum shrieks from her spot on the bed.

I run over to her and take her hand. With my spare hand, I smooth her sweat drenched hair off her forehead.

‘Where’s your dad?’ she gasps at me.

‘He’s on his way,’ I reassure her.

The first thing I’d done after calling for an ambulance was call Dad’s work. He’d been in a meeting at the time but I’m hoping his secretary had gotten the message to him.

Mum’s gripping my hand so tight it’s gone numb. Her face is bright red. Nurses around us are yelling ‘push’. I don’t know how long it goes on for but, all of a sudden, it’s quiet. I look back at the midwife, who is now holding a very small, very pink baby in her arms. Everybody stares at it's little face as it opens it's mouth wide, waiting. When nothing happens, the room goes into chaos. A nurse hits a button on the wall, causing the air to be filled with a loud beeping noise. I watch as the midwife carries my little sibling out of the room, a very worried look on her face.

‘The baby?’ Mum gasps at the nurses around her.

One nurse stops to comfort her.

‘She didn’t cry,’ the nurse says.

‘What’s that mean?’ Mum and I ask at the same time.

‘It means she didn’t start to breathe on her own,’ she replies sadly, ‘but the doctors will do everything they can to get her breathing.’

With that, the nurse goes back to helping clean up. I look back at Mum. She just blinks at me.

‘A girl,’ Mum whispers.

A little sister.

‘What’s her name gonna be?’ I ask.

‘Claire,’ a male voice says.

I turn to see my dad standing just inside the door, hospital scrubs thrown hurriedly over his suit and work shoes. He quickly hurries over to Mum and kisses her on the forehead.

‘Where is she?’ he asks.

‘She’s not breathing,’ I say.

‘What?’ Dad gasps.

He steps in front of the closest nurse, taking her by the shoulders and demanding an explanation. I turn back to Mum. She smiles.

‘Tanna, do you like the name Claire?’ she asks.

I smile and nod.

‘Little Claire Bear,’ I laugh.

Then Dad walks over and kneels down beside me.

‘Tanna, sweetie, let’s go outside and wait while the nurses finish up,’ he says.

I put my hand in his and we leave the room. In the waiting room, we take our scrubs off and wait. I listen to my i-pod while Dad just frowns at the door. After a while, a nurse comes out and gets Dad. I wait for him to come and get me. It’s a couple of hours before he does though. By the time he gets out, Grandma has shown up with Tom in tow. Dad tells me to go in first. In the room, Mum’s sitting up in bed, a bundle of lilac blankets in her arms. I sit on the bed beside her, peering into the blankets. The tiniest baby I have ever seen is snuggled up in the shelter of lilac. Her face is pink and the top of her head is covered in tufts of soft, curly blonde fluff. I smile as she yawns, stretching her little arms out from under the blankets. I place my finger in the tiny palm of her hand. She holds it tightly.

‘She gave us quite a scare,’ Mum whispers and I look up at her.

‘But she’s fine now?’ I ask.

‘She was fine in the first place,’ Dad laughs.

I frown. Seeing the confusion on my face, he continues.

‘She was breathing the whole time,’ he says, ‘you see, when a baby is born and breathing on its own, it usually cries. But not this one, she took a very silent breath and then stayed quiet. She just didn’t cry,’ he explains.

I smile down at her and wriggle my finger, causing her arm to shake back and forth.

‘Mum, can I hold her?’ I ask.

‘Yes.’

I sit up straight and Mum places the bundle in my arms. She’s so small and light, I’m afraid to drop her. Dad holds his hands just beneath mine, in case she does slip. I watch her chest rise and fall as she breathes. We all listen for the little, almost soundless, puffs of air that indicate her tiny exhales.

In the corner of my eyes, I see a flash go off. I look up to see Tom holding the camera up.

‘Good picture,’ he laughs.

‘Let me see,’ I say.

He holds the screen of the camera in front of my face. I see me holding a lot of purple with a little pink face in the middle of it all.

‘Claire and Tanna,’ Tom laughs, ‘my two little sisters.’