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face in the pillow to smother my sobs.

I didn't want to be here! I hated it! No wonder

my father stopped speaking to his family. He was

nothing like Uncle Jacob. I would be happier if

Mommy had dumped me in an orphanage, I thought.

My shoulders shook with my muted crying. Suddenly,

I felt something touch my shoulder and I turned

quickly to see little May staring at me, her face full of

fear and sympathy. She had come in so quietly that I

had not heard her. Her hands moved rapidly,

wondering why I was so unhappy. What made me

cry?

"I miss my mother," I said. She tilted her head.

I let out a deep breath and located the book on sign language. I found the gestures and produced them. May nodded and signed how sorry she felt for me.

Then she offered me a hug.

How sweet, I thought, and how sad that the

only one in this house who made me feel at home was

the only one who couldn't hear the sound of my voice. Nor could she hear the sounds of scuffling and

footsteps above, but she saw where my gaze had gone

and understood.

"Car . . ry," she said and demonstrated the construction of a model ship.

"Yes. Do you go up there?" I signed. "Or

doesn't he even let you up there?"

She thought a moment and then shook her head.

"No?"

She shook her head and gestured "only.. ." She

pointed to Laura's photograph.

"Only Laura?" May nodded. "Only Laura," I

thought aloud and gazed at the ceiling. May grunted

and then signed about his great sorrow.