~~Young~~

Chapter Twenty

   He felt as if Sera had lied to him, not intentionally, but like she was boosting Josephine to be more than she was. As if Josephine’s weakness would somehow reflect on her. But even sitting there Gage could tell that beneath the star and moon pajamas she wore was a sad, frail little thing, evident by the skeletal hands continuing on with her work. He couldn’t help but think how much her body reminded him of Pestilence’s. But instead of revulsion he felt pity. How do you live when you have to fear even the slightest breeze?

   The woman rose from her chair beside the girl’s desk with a saddened smile, “I see that look a lot around our Josephine,” she put the paperback novel she had been reading down and offered Gage her hand, still Josephine didn’t waver from her work, “I’m Sister Mary Rose,” she bowed her head to him, “one of her regular caretakers so I can tell you anything you wish to know.”

   He looked quickly at her extended hand then back to Josephine, “Gage,” he mumbled as her shook her hand absently, “what’s…what’s wrong with her?”

   “What isn’t,” the sister sighed and her eyes fell to the floor.

   She cared deeply for this child, and that breath of air bared so much pain he decided he didn’t need to know quite yet.

   But seeing Josephine made him rethink his whole approach to the situation. He was going to demand answers from her, sure she wasn’t what she presented herself to be. Instead he looked about the room, saw that it was filled with art and pictures undoubtedly done by the child. There wasn’t an inch of wall showing, the many surfaces covered in scattered pages and overstuffed portfolios. This was where she existed. This single room however large must be all she knew.

   “It is how she communicates,” the Sister explained as she followed Gage’s gaze, “a severe case of autism has taken hold inside her and will not let her speak.”

   He already knew that…mostly. He didn’t know it was because of a disease Josephine couldn’t speak, Sera had only described it as a “glitch” in her brain.

   “There must be thousands of pictures in here though,” Gage continued to take in his surroundings, “does she ever leave these walls?”

   “She cannot,” Mary Rose shook her head, “She’s never going to get better; never move past this impossible of road blocks in her life. There would be no life for her outside of this boarding school; her needs are just too great,” she frowned even as she looked lovingly to the girl.

   “You see those?” she gestured to the dozens of medications lined up at Josephine’s bedside, “If she should ever find herself out in the world alone in need of just one of them…if she had no pencil or paper to convey her needs…a stranger would not know what to do to help her. And by the time one trained in the care of a special needs child it very well could be too late,” she reached for the beads around her neck, “it is just too much to risk to let her leave the school’s grounds.”

   Yeah…yeah he was starting to see that.

   “May I ask, Gage,” she hesitated, “but to what do we owe this more miraculous of visits?”

  He turned his head to her, and immediately saw the revere in her eyes. She must assume he had been sent from her God. He wasn’t going to refute her for the sake of the answers he had come for, knowing if he told her the truth it would only complicate matters.

   “I need to speak with the child,” he answered instead, “I have some questions for her.”

   “Questions?” She seemed confused by that simple answer, “but she cannot speak.”