Castles on the Sand

Nine

Cold fear grasps my stomach and I feel like I should run and hide, but I can't look away.

Officer Li gets out to stand by his car, waving his hands in a gesture for Alex to calm down. Alex responds by smashing the car's other headlight into a thousand little shards that sprinkle across the asphalt.

Voices on the cop's radio blare in an incomprehensible stream of syllables. I can't hear what the dispatcher is saying, but I can only assume that more cops are on their way. There's an officer in Sequoia Ridge which is only ten minutes' drive.

Alex bashes the rock into the cruiser's hood with a bang like a gunshot, creating a dent and some impressive scratches.

Officer Li pulls his gun.

I suck in a breath and don't exhale. I'm about to see one of my schoolmates shot to death.

But Alex's shoulders sag in defeat. He leaves the rock on the cruiser's hood and puts his hands in the air.

Officer Li orders him to take off his army jacket and throw it to one side, which Alex does. In just his shirt and jeans, it's clear he hasn't got any more weapons. He doesn't do baggy clothing like some of the guys in his clique.

I stare in disbelief as he's made to get down on the ground, hands and feet apart, until Officer Li goes to pin him with a knee to the small of his back while he grabs each wrist to snap on handcuffs. At this point Alex's face is obscured by his long hair. He tosses it back as the officer hauls him to his feet and loads him into the back of the cruiser. He doesn't look to the right or the left as the car pulls away, just stares straight ahead.

Siraj steps up behind me and watches the cruiser drive off. Everyone else who was in the library is now on their way out, whether to rubberneck or to tell their friends, I don't know.

“So how was your day?” I quip.

“Fine – oh I see. It does just roll off the tongue automatically, doesn't it?”

“I always knew he was a psycho. The way he just hangs around town, totally silent.”

“It's called selective mutism, I believe. Or is it voluntary mutism?”

“What?”

“A person who can't talk for psychological reasons. Someone who can only talk to certain people or in certain situations. You usually don't see it in someone that old.”

“What, you're saying Alex is like the lady in The Piano?”

“Well... yes, that's what she had.”

I consider that a moment. “He talked to me. Threatened to chase me with a switchblade.”

“Ah, well, apparently threatening unarmed girls is not a situation that intimidates him. Assuming you were unarmed?”

“Yeah, and it was the middle of the night.”

“Even better then. Did you tell the police?”

I shake my head.

“Even that? Not noteworthy enough to mention? Not even to me when I ask how your day was?”

“My life is just so exciting. You really mean to tell me that Alex is too intimidated by people to talk? He just vandalized a police car. I'm not seeing a shy person there.”

“Well,  I'm no expert. I think what I read – and its been a while – is that it's often a kind of social anxiety. People who are nervous in large crowds or with people they don't know very well. But different things can cause it. I read about one case of a girl who was like that all through school because she was from a small town and everyone labeled her as the girl who never talked, so she went along with it. I remember wondering if that were Alex's situation. I get teachers in here every now and then who want to look up the condition so they can understand him a little better.”