with a smile and a wave

At first he was the kicker, the punchline to my stats. Every time I rattled off my inflated roster of old timers plus freshmen plus transfers, I'd segue from the total to the tally of special needs and conclude with a flourish: "Plus the mute kid!" As in, "What am I supposed to do about that?!"

Not much, it turns out.

This morning he turned up with his aunt and heretofore unknown brother and checked out for San Diego, where he'll live with his mom. Five signatures later, his problems are no longer mine; my day is that much less complicated. I'm disappointed, frankly. Oh, I do feel the relief of one less prep to my day, but mostly, I'm sad to see him go, sad for progress interrupted.

Not that I am the answer, not that I knew what to do, really, but it felt like we were figuring it out. After a few false starts, I had found English work that seemed to be on his level; I learned that in Civics, he liked the maps. I slapped my forehead when he sneaked into Scrabble and spelled out, "hola" to a girl. I talked to him as any other kid. Maybe that's all it was. But he was listening, lately, doing what I asked, learning, maybe, or at least learning to trust me. Or perhaps he was just counting the days. His is one story I don't ever expect to hear; I only hope that someday, he tells it.