I only saw Beau say, “Yes, we . . .” before everything else was lost on me. He had his hands raised as if he wanted to sign as he spoke with his dad, but the pained look on his face made me think he didn’t know how to sign what he was saying.

I could sympathize with Beau there at least. Signing and using your voice at the same time when you were just learning to embrace sign language was difficult under the best of circumstances, but I kind of hated that I still managed to feel somewhat left out as Beau and his dad were talking.

Something Beau said made Doctor Watson raise an eyebrow and take a step forward to look more closely at our PowerPoint still pulled up on my laptop. The project was open to the slide where we listed the protestors’ four demands, and either Doctor Watson had perfected the art of remaining impassive, or he wasn’t impressed with what he saw.

“Interesting,” Doctor Watson finally said. “But . . . think Red Scare might’ve . . .”

I purposely looked away so I didn’t have to lipread the last of Doctor Watson’s sentence. I was anticipating a lack of interest in the subject from some of my classmates, but I didn’t want to witness it from Beau’s dad too.

I watched Beau instead, more questions forming in my mind as I observed his behavior around his dad. He didn’t seem quite as confident as he did at school, not so sure of himself. His hands were at his sides, his gaze focused on a spot on the wall above his dad’s head.

Sure, Beau’s dad did seem intimidating, but what was it about him that would get Beau to act like this, like he was trying to draw in on himself?

I think the constipated look on Beau’s face was what made me do it, use my voice to say, “Well, we’re just about finished here. Wanna take me home now, Beau?”

Beau jumped on my words like they were a lifeline, nodding eagerly, and he said, “. . . be back soon,” to Dr. Watson.

“. . . safe,” Dr. Watson said to Beau, and I imagined his voice must’ve sounded cold with the suddenly austere expression on his face. Then that look was gone when Dr. Watson glanced my way and gave a short, polite nod.

Beau leapt into action, saving the presentation on my laptop, powering it down, piling our work together. I shoved everything carefully into my backpack and followed Beau back into the foyer to grab my shoes after I waved good-bye to Dana. She’d been watching the whole exchange with an expression that looked like sadness. I had a strong suspicion this wasn’t the first time she’d seen something like this.