Rainwater by Sandra Brown Page B

is—”
    “Not curiosity, concern.”
    “Why should you be concerned about a boy who, up till a few weeks ago, you didn’t even know existed?”
    “Because the first time I saw him, he’d pulled a pan of hot starch onto himself.”
    Would she have preferred that he not be concerned about a child who’d burned himself? No. Nevertheless, his interest offended her. She’d thought he was different from gawking strangers. He wasn’t. He was merely too well mannered to ask rude questions and stare with flagrant fascination or repugnance. He was too polite to point and laugh, make jokes, say cruel things. But going behind her back and discussing Solly with the doctor was equally contemptible.
    “If you wanted to know about Solly, why didn’t you ask me?”
    “Because I sensed that you would react exactly as you are.”
    His reasonable tone only emphasized how uneven hers was. She couldn’t help but wonder what else the doctor had told him about her. It was infuriating, the two of them talking about her. She felt heat rising out of her collar, up her neck, and into her face.
    As though reading her mind, he said, “We weren’t gossiping, Mrs. Barron. I asked Murdy a few questions, and he explained.”
    “Did he enlist you to persuade me to put Solly away, since all his attempts have failed?”
    “No.”
    “I will never have Solly locked up in an institution.”
    He nodded, whether in agreement with her position or in understanding of it she couldn’t tell. “That’s a very courageous decision.” The statement was just as ambivalent as his nod.
    She stood. “It will be dinnertime soon. I have work to do.” She knelt down beside Solly, ready to pick him up and, even if he pitched one of his fits, carry him from the room and away from Mr. Rainwater.
    To her consternation, her boarder laid a hand on her arm. “Please. Look. Tell me what you notice.”
    Solly had finished lining up all the dominoes and was staring at the serpentine row. As she watched, he gently poked the one at the end. It took only seconds for them to topple just as they had before.
    Missing Mr. Rainwater’s point, she looked at him inquisitively.
    He said, “Notice the dots.”
    It took only a few seconds for her to see what he wanted her to, and when she did, gooseflesh broke out on her arms. Her heart hitched. She made a small, involuntary sound of astonishment.
    The dominoes had been scattered on the floor, facedown. Yet Solly had selected them one by one and lined them up in numerical order, from the double blank to the double six.
    Her breath coming quickly, she turned to Mr. Rainwater. “How did you teach him to do that?”
    His smile widened. “I didn’t.”
     

SEVEN
    “They’re called idiot savants.”
    It was the day following the discovery of Solly’s remarkable ability. Last evening after dinner, Ella and Mr. Rainwater had tested him several times. He never failed to place the dominoes in ascending order, even though he selected them while they were lying facedown.
    That morning, as soon as breakfast was over, Ella dispatched Margaret to the doctor’s office with a note briefly describing what had taken place the night before and asking if she could bring Solly in for a consultation.
    She purposely didn’t use the telephone to communicate with the doctor, mistrusting the operator, who was notorious for listening in on conversations. Until she had an explanation for Solly’s rare talent, she didn’t want town gossips whispering about it.
    People tended to fear anyone who was different. Some were particularly narrow-minded in their regard of simpletons, believing they should be isolated for the welfare and safekeeping of themselves and others.
    From her childhood, Ella remembered a mongoloid man named Dooley. He was harmless, actually sweet and friendly. But he lacked the discretion that came from conditioning, and his overt friendliness made some people uncomfortable.
    He wandered into a widow lady’s yard one day, Ella