Silent Genius

Chapter 2

July 2007

I’d expected to lose sleep with a new baby in the house. I’d thought I’s be up all night with the sound of her crying in my ears. But no, not once in the past six months since she’s been home has she even squeaked. Mum’s a bit worried. I mean, both Tom and I were squealers. Dad had even nicknamed me Piglet. She’s worried there might be something wrong with Claire. She told her friends, but they all just told her to be happy she got a silent one. I laughed when she told me that.

All my friends love Claire. Whenever they come over, we spend all day watching her roll around on the floor. She’s close to crawling, already trying to push herself up. We all try and help her, laughing when it looks like she’s trying to do a push-up. Her face go’s red as she curls her hands into fists and pushes as hard as she can against the floor. Tom’s taken to videoing her. He also likes to take pictures of the two of us. Like when I’m feeding her mushy carrots, both of us covered in food. She usually likes to hold the spoon herself. She can scoop some onto her spoon and put it in her mouth all by herself. Mum and Dad are impressed. I think she’s showing off.

But even though it seems there’s nothing wrong with her, Mum just wants to hear her laugh. We know she does laugh, you can see it when she does. Her face lights up and her eyes sparkle, but there’s no sound. It’s a silent laugh, still cute all the same though.

‘She’s just quiet,’ Dad reassures Mum after one of her worries.

‘But what if she just doesn’t ever talk?’ Mum asks.

‘I’m sure she will,’ Dad says.

‘Why do we need to worry?’ Tom says, ‘Tanna speaks enough for the both of them.’

I poke my tongue out at him. Claire looks up at me, frowning slightly.

‘Diaper change,’ I say to Mum, freeing Claire from the restraints of her highchair.

‘How can you tell,’ Mum says, sniffing the air, ‘I can’t smell anything.’

‘She’s making that face,’ I shrug, handing her over to Dad.

I know all the things she does when she wants something. When she’s hungry, she opens her mouth and pokes her cheek. When she’s thirsty, she puckers her lips like a fish. When she wants her stuffed octopus (yes, an octopus) she wraps her arms around herself like she’s giving herself a hug. Mum still doesn’t understand some of her motions, so she gets me to translate. For only six months old, Claire is very good at communicating what she wants to me.

Mum sighs and leans heavily on the kitchen counter.

‘Mum?’ Tom asks.

‘You alright?’ I ask.

‘I’m just so worried about her,’ she says.

Tom and I hug her. She smiles and hugs us back.

‘You two used to scream all through the night. It would take your father and I hours to get you down,’ he says, ‘but Claire, she doesn’t even peep.’

‘Maybe’s she shy,’ I say.

Mum shakes her head.

‘We’ll wait ‘til she’s older,’ Mum says, ‘even she doesn’t start talking when she’s meant to, we’ll take her to the hospital.’

‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ I say.

Mum squeezes my shoulders.

‘I sure hope so,’ she says.

She lets go of me and I look for Dad and Claire. I find them in Claire’s room, Claire wriggling on her back, Dad trying to get a fresh diaper on her. I push him out of the way and Claire immediately stills.

‘How do you do that?’ Dad asks, a shocked look on his face.

‘She knows I mean business,’ I laugh.

Claire just smiles up at us. I put her overalls back on and pick her up.

‘You’ll talk one day, won’t you?’ I ask her.

She nods her head smiling.

‘You really think she understands you?’ Dad asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

‘I really do. She’s very smart,’ I comment, kissing her on the forehead.