"I apologize on my son's behalf, Mr. Mueller," he said. "It will not happen again. Please remember he's just a child."

Herr Mueller was in no mood to be mollified. "This time, apologies are not enough. I've had enough excuses! The truth is that you can't manage your own child. You are an incompetent parent! This time, I am going to the authorities!" Mueller spun on his heels and marched back down the street. The only thing that almost got me smirking me was the sight of eggsh.e.l.ls stuck on his pants.

Robert threw me a stern glance. "Not a word, Louisa."

The evening meal was a very silent one. Weary from the day's crime, William kept his eyes lowered to his plate and hardly ate. Miss Gordon turned down the offer for clean-up help in the kitchen, so Robert went to his office, William up to his room with Dog, and I slipped unnoticed out the front door and over to Rosita's house.

As I knocked on the door, a tear-stained Esmeralda, lips trembling, answered it. "I am so sorry!" she bawled. "I didn't know how much trouble William would get in." Rosita came to the door behind her, chagrined.

"Esmeralda, please don't worry," I a.s.sured her. "Just tell me what happened."

"After we finished baking cookies and played some games we got bored, and Mama shooed us outside. We were just kicking a ball down the street when William saw Mr. Mueller outside working on his flowers. William ran back to his house and brought back the rotten eggs. He threw them at Mr. Mueller. I didn't want him to, but he just kept throwing and throwing the eggs at him. I promise that I didn't throw any eggs." Then, sheepishly, "but I did hold the carton open for him. Mr. Mueller got so mad! His face got red, and he waved his arms and said some bad, bad words," she stopped to take a deep breath, "and then he took William by the shirt collar and dragged him to Miss Gordon and then said more bad words to her."

"Esmeralda, why do you think William threw those eggs at Herr Mueller?"

"I don't know." Then she looked at me from the corner of her eyes. "But that Mr. Mueller is mean."

"That's not a reason to throw rotten eggs at the man."

"Is Father Gordon mad with me?"

"Reverend Gordon not Father Gordon. He's disappointed with William's behavior, but he's not mad at you." I smiled and gave her a hug.

"Will you ever let him come to our house to play again?" asked Rosita.

"Of course!" I hugged her, too, and left to go to Robert's office. Gently, I knocked on the door and poked my head in.

He wasn't working; he was gazing out the window. He frowned when he saw me. "I don't want to talk about it, Louisa."

"I understand. Just let me say one thing and then I'll go."

Slowly, he nodded.

"I'm not excusing William's behavior, but there is some reason that he truly dislikes Herr Mueller." I told him about the time when William spit on Herr Mueller's shoes in the library. And about the spitwads through the straw.

Robert's eyebrows shot up. "For Pete's sake! Why didn't you tell me about those things when they happened?"

"Because there's something about Herr Mueller that makes me want to spit on his shoes, too."

He rolled his eyes. "That's really not very helpful. I need to discipline the boy. He's played tricks on Mueller before. Once he shot a rock at Mueller's backside with his slingshot. Another time he threw tomatoes at the Muellers' windows during a fancy dinner party. I heard about that one for months." He shook his head in disgust.

"William might have a very good reason for doing what he did."

He gave me a look as if I had lost my mind. "And what could that possibly be?"

"I don't know. I really have no idea. And until his language improves, I don't know how we could find out why William hates Herr Mueller so. But I have faith in William. I hope you do, too. Please don't be too hard on him."

He sighed. "You might have a point." He spun around in his chair and looked out the window. "I've been sitting here wondering if maybe the time is right for William to attend the Southwestern School for the Deaf. I had wanted to wait until he was older, but it's apparent he's more ready than I had expected." He spun back around to look directly at me. "You've shown me that." Then, quietly to himself, he said, "I'm just not sure I could bear having him gone."

I drew a sharp breath. It never occurred to me that by teaching William to communicate, it might mean he would be sent to boarding school. I couldn't imagine the Gordon home without William. I didn't even want to consider it. I put my hand on the doork.n.o.b to leave but turned to say, "Anyway, thank you for such a lovely day up in the mountains with Chief Cochise."

"Somehow, I think Cochise would have been easier to deal with than Mueller," Robert lamented.

I had hoped Robert would drop the subject about sending William to boarding school after the rotten egg fiasco with Herr Mueller. I was certainly not going to mention it.

The next evening as dinner ended, Miss Gordon told William to go upstairs and get ready for his bath, waving her hands wildly as if she were taking a bath and scrubbing herself down. It always amused me to watch her homespun methods of communicating with a deaf child. She did seem to be able to get her point across to William.

Robert watched William head up the stairs, Dog trotting dutifully behind his young master. Then he casually mentioned he had called the Southwestern School for the Deaf and scheduled an appointment for Friday. "I think it would be a good idea to see what the school has to offer."

Miss Gordon and I exchanged a look.

"So the princ.i.p.al is going to give me a tour of the campus and let me see some of the cla.s.ses," he continued. "And they'll do some testing with William."

I picked up a few dinner plates from the table and went to the sink, stacking plates.

"It's just to check it out. It doesn't mean that I have to make a decision. It's just an informative interview," he added.

I didn't say a word. I just started filling up the sink with warm, soapy water.

"So Louisa, what do you think?" he asked.

Without looking at him, I said, "I think you'll make the best decision."

"I'm asking you what you think," he said, irritation rising in his voice.

I kept my head down. "William is your son. I'm sure you know what's best for him. It's really none of my business."

"None of your business?! None of your business?!" he roared. "Since when have you ever minded your own business? From the first day you arrived here, you have been minding everyone's business. And now, when I actually ask for your opinion, for the first time, you have none?!"

I stopped washing the dishes and stared at him. "Was ist lst mit dir? Why are you so upset?"

"Blast it, woman! You can really drive a body barmy!" He stomped out of the kitchen, slammed the door shut, and marched off to his office.

I looked at Miss Gordon, who looked back at me, equally wide-eyed. "What was that about?" I plopped down on the chair next to her. "How dare he yell at me! What did I do to deserve that? How many times have I heard the words 'this is not your place, Louisa.' So when I finally know it's not my place to say anything, he gets angry!"

Her brows flickered up. "His point, exactly." She took the dishtowel out of my hand. "Go talk to him. I'll clean up and get William to bed."

"I don't want to talk to him. I'm too angry." I looked directly at her. "What about your opinion? What do you say about William being sent off to boarding school?"

"Well, if you noticed, Robert didn't ask me. He asked you. So, go. Talk to him."

"Wait. What does it mean to drive a body barmy? Did he swear at me?"

"No, no, no. It's a Scottish expression my father used to say. Robert's grandfather. Driving a body barmy is something you do very well. Off with you!" She waved her dishcloth at me as if shooing the butler.

Slowly walking over to the kitchen door, I picked up the car keys that were hanging on the keyboard. I walked over to Robert's office and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Robert said.

I opened the door and barely popped my head in, not quite sure what reaction awaited me.

He looked at me. "Louisa...," he started.

I interrupted him by holding up the car keys. "Can I take you for a drive?"

Slowly, he stood up and walked over to me, taking the keys out of my hand. "I'll go on a drive, but only if I'm the one who's driving. I'm not in the mood to have my life endangered."

We walked over to his beloved Hudson. Robert held the door open for me, then went around to his side. "Where are we headed?" he asked.

I wanted to go back to the place where that awful flight instructor took me. Despite such a disastrous date, the setting was lovely in the day, and I thought it might be even more beautiful in the evening, especially with a full moon overlooking the desert valley as there was tonight.

After I gave him directions, we drove along in silence, the awkwardness of unfinished business lingered between us. When we arrived up on the plateau, I showed him where to park. "Look, isn't it pretty? Those rocks are piled up like tortillas. And look at the valley!" The pale moon cast eerie shadows over the nooks and crevices down below.

Robert craned his neck to look around the parking area. "Is this where that fellow took you? This is where the high school kids come to neck. Look around."

There were a number of cars with steamed up windows. "Is necking the same thing as sparking?" I asked.

Once he finished laughing, he looked at me for a long moment, bemused. Then he said, "Louisa, you are a strange combination of the most intelligent and most ingenuous person I have ever met."

Again, a self-conscious silence filled the car, until we both spoke at once. "Wait, Robert. Let me explain something. I wasn't trying to be difficult. I don't have an opinion to give you about sending William to boarding school because I really don't know what the right answer is."

He shifted in his seat to turn toward me. "Neither do I. That's why I wanted to hear what you thought about it. Don't you think I'm worried I could be making a huge mistake? Or that William might feel abandoned again just as he's finally getting over Ruth's desertion? But then again, what if he might be missing something by not being in a school that could help him communicate?"

I sighed and looked straight forward. "I had hoped doing the correspondence cla.s.ses would be enough for now."

"You started this whole thing."

"I know."

"You said it should be like immersing yourself in a foreign country."

"I remember." Why did I ever tell him that? What was I thinking? Probably that he didn't really listen to me.

"I can see how quickly he is learning. It makes me think it might be better for him to be at the school, being taught by professionals."

"Oh," I said, trying without much success to hide my disappointment that Robert didn't think I was qualified. I had been working hard to stay ahead of William's rapid progress. "It's just that...I'm concerned you might be making this decision because of pressure from Herr Mueller."

"Apparently, Mueller is trying to concoct misdemeanor charges against William."

So that's what started this. "What does that mean?"

"He's trying to build a case to prove William should be in a specialized school or a state inst.i.tution. Can you imagine anyone pressing charges against a five-year-old boy?" Robert shook his head in disgust. "Still, I can't deny William is unreasonably belligerent with the man."

"But only with Herr Mueller. No one else. Well, he pulls a few boyish pranks at the church, but everyone enjoys him. No one minds his antics. Just Herr Mueller."

He was silent for a moment. Then he looked over at me. "I want you to come with us on Friday."

"Then I'll come." We looked up at the stars for a few minutes, both alone with our thoughts.

Then, Robert surprised me. Shocked me, actually. "Louisa, could we pray about this?" he asked.

Pleased, I smiled and held out my hand.

He took my hand in his and began to pray. "Holy Father, I need your help. I am asking for your guidance over this important decision for William. I need to see the answer clearly."

Then I added, "And, Lord, we want the best for William, but only You know what the best could be for him. Please give us the wisdom to encourage, support him, and understand what he needs. Amen."

Robert didn't release my hand for a moment. "Louisa, I-"

Quickly, I interrupted him and pulled my hand back. "It's all right, Robert. I forgive you for being so abominably rude to me earlier."

He looked at me for a long minute without expression, then turned the keys in the ignition and backed up the Hudson, heading toward home.

It was not lost on me that when I interrupted him, he might have had something else on his mind besides apologizing for saying I could drive a body barmy.

Friday came too soon-cold and sunny. We left early to arrive in time for our ten o'clock appointment. Miss Gordon stood on the porch, Dog sitting dutifully beside her as sentry guard. She waved good-bye, a mournful look on her face. I felt sad, too, as the car backed out of the driveway.

"Stop looking so woebegone, Louisa. We're just going to check it out. That's all," Robert gently chided.

As we drove along the two-lane highway towards Tucson, I stared at the scenery, lost in reflection about the car ride last February when Robert had picked me up at the train station. I remembered feeling so disappointed with the arid and bone-dry landscape.

On that first car ride, I looked at the harsh rocks and saw only a rusty red color. Now, scarcely ten months later, I could see hues of color and even identify the rock formations. It was as if I put on a pair of new gla.s.ses after seeing through an old, outdated pair. The colors were clear and vivid. Shires, b.u.t.tes, and sheer rock walls shimmered with shades of beige, ocher, salmon and scarlet.

The Southwestern School for the Deaf was situated on a beautiful, expansive campus. We went up to the Administration building and found the princ.i.p.al's office. The receptionist greeted us warmly. "Mr. and Mrs. Gordon, we've been expecting you. And this must be William?" she asked.

Robert and I both interrupted each other, trying to correct the receptionist's impression that we were married.

She didn't bother with us; her eyes were on William. "I'm going to take William for a tour and have him meet a teacher who will do a little testing with him while you and your wife meet with the princ.i.p.al." She spoke slowly and directly to William, asking him if he'd like to go with her. He watched her lips intently and then nodded enthusiastically. Then she led us into the princ.i.p.al's office.

"Mrs. Powell, Mr. and Mrs. Gordon are here to meet you." The receptionist turned and took William by the hand, leading him out the door.

We both watched him leave, feeling protective, but he never even turned back to wave good-bye.

A portly woman stood up to greet us. "You must be Reverend Gordon. We spoke on the phone a few days ago." She shook Robert's hand and then reached out to shake my hand. "And you must be Mrs. Gordon."

"No, no. I'm Louisa Schmetterling. I'm Reverend Gordon's houseguest."

"Oh," she said, flatly, and then asked us to sit down. "Do you know much about this school?"

We shook our heads.

"Well, the school was founded in 1912 when Arizona became a state. Most of our students live close to Tucson and are able to attend the school as a day school. We do have residence halls available for children who don't live nearby."

"Do children as young as William attend the boarding school? He just turned five," I asked, hoping she would say "no."