Chapter 1 - Fall's Loneliness

"Nurse Wendy? I have to go to the bathroom."

"Okay, hon. You know where it is, right? Down the hall to the right." The pretty nurse turned to pick up another of the scattered toys.

"But don't take too long. I'm sure your parents will be ready to leave soon."

"And it looks like your baby brother is getting cranky."

Victoria ran her hand along the wall as she walked down the hall. She could see the hall that went to the right, where the bathrooms were, but she could also see Dr. Parker's office at the end of it. As she got closer, she could hear his strong voice.

"I-I'm not sure I understand. Could you please explain, Dr. Parker," her mother's melodic voice asked.

"Of course. Sensory Integration Disorder is a dysfunction of the nervous system. People that suffer from this disorder often seek sensory imput, try to minimize input, or a combination of the two. For example, a child with SID might cover his ears and get upset around loud noises, such as a blender or vacuum cleaner. Or he might prefer certain clothes, made of certain fabrics because they don't rub against his skin."

The room was silent for a moment, and Victoria risked a peek around the corner into the doctor's office. She saw Dr. Parker sitting behind his oak desk, looking from one of her parents to the other. His kind face held a smile as he patiently waited for one of them to speak.

Craning her neck just a little, she could see her parents. Her beautiful mother, in her favorite summer dress, which she still wore even though it was now fall, sat staring at a point somewhere behind Dr. Parker's head. Her full lipped mouth was turned down into a slight frown and her expression was somewhat vacant. Victoria could not see much of her father, but when he suddenly shifted position she ducked back behind the corner, afraid to be seen. She felt a little guilty because nice Nurse Wendy thought she was in the bathroom, but she couldn't resist the lure of voices coming from within the doctor's private office. She wanted to know what was wrong with Bradley, too. Erik would be furious if he knew she was listening. Eavesdropping was not an acceptable activity for a VanDoren.

"Is that what's wrong with our son?" Katherine asked.

"We won't know for sure without a neurological exam, but it is a definite possibility, based on the information you've given me. It's just one avenue I would like to pursue. Another would be to have an autism screening."

"Autism?" her mother said in a barely audible whisper.

"Again, Mrs. VanDoren, we won't know without further testing. But Bradley does have some distinct characteristics of autism and sensory integration disorder. I have the name of a specialist right here."

The sound of cards being flipped in the rolodex could clearly be heard.

"Would you like our office to call and make you an appointment? Ms. Klein can come to your home for an interview and to meet Bradley, and from there set she'll set up an appointment for the screening. Are you alright, Mr. VanDoren?" Dr. Parker asked.

Victoria slowly moved her eyesight around the corner of the door again. She could see her father, now. He was staring at the doctor silently. His mouth was pressed together, and his eyes seemed to be glaring at the older gentleman. This was bad. He was struggling to maintain his composure.

Without warning, Erik suddenly stood up. Victoria, caught off guard by her father's sudden movement, pulled herself flat against the wall, but she couldn't force herself to move.

"Thank you for your time, doctor," Erik said gruffly. She could hear her footsteps heading toward the door and she hastened to the bathroom a few doors away, hoping she hadn't been seen.

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"I told you already, Katherine, that this would be a waste of time. Calling this so called 'specialist' is going to only result in more time wasted. I can't miss another day of work on this worthless pursuit."

Victoria stared out the car window, watching the trees go by. She was fascinated with the way that the trees closest to the road seemed to fly right past, while the ones in the distance moved much more slowly. Beside her, her two year old brother slept snugly in his carseat, apparently worn out by his busy visit to the doctor's office.

"But Erik, we have to try. We can't go on living like this. Anyone who can give us any insight at all will be more helpful than what we're already dealing with. Besides, you don't have to miss any work at all, I'll deal with it myself."

Erik grunted in response.

"Erik," Katherine continued, "don't you want to know why Bradley does the things he does, why he bangs his head against the wall and still can't talk?"

"I suppose," he said reluctantly. "But I think it's pure foolishness. Do as you wish."

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"And then," Clayton, Victoria's older brother proudly proclaimed over supper, "I got the report turned in just in time for Mr. Drysdale to read, while Scott was still doing research. He said if I keep going this way, he'll have no choice but to give me a promotion."

Erik beamed at his son, his eyes sparkling as the two shared a moment of pure bliss, a moment only another booming businessman could understand.

"Oh, that's great, honey. Eat your salad," Katherine commented.

"Before you know it, I'll be on my way to SimState, just like you, dad. And with a scholarship, too."

"You keep going the way you're going and you'll put your old man out of business. Katherine, call the undertaker. The day my son reaches the top of the company is the day I can die happy."

The three of them laughed merrily while Victoria pushed the last zucchini slice into place. Looking down at her plate, she surveyed her work with a smile. There was her salmon patty, slightly oval shaped, pink and fleshy, like a face. Two sliced olives sat on the face like eyes, while a few grains of rice formed a mouth. A not quite smiling mouth. Several sliced zucchini were lined up along the upper edge of the patty, forming green circular hair.

"Victoria." Her head snapped up at her father's stern voice. "If you're not going to eat, then leave the table. Playing with your food is not an activity befitting a VanDoren."

She scraped all the rice and zucchini back into their proper places and pushed the food around with her fork, pretending she was interested in eating it.

Katherine was busy talking quietly to Bradley, whose mood was quickly going from bad to worse. He was upset because there were mashed potatoes in his bowl. Bradley hated any food that lacked shape, especially those that also lacked much color such as applesauce, cream of wheat, and mashed potatoes.

But Katherine, ever vigilant of trying to get Bradley to expand his food reportoire, had put them in Bradley's favorite blue and pink bowl. But Bradley didn't like to have them anywhere near him, and expressed his displeasure by grabbing a large handful and flinging them across the table. Victoria had to struggle hard to supress a giggle. If she laughed she would get into big trouble.

She diverted her attention to Clayton and Erik, both of whom had pained looks on their faces. Clayton was a chip off the old block, alright. He was practically a carbon copy of his father. Katherine was trying unsuccessfully to scoop what was left of the potatoes onto her own plate, but couldn't match the speed of the baby's hands which grabbed another handful before she could stop him. He threw some of the potatoes halfway across the table, and smeared the rest onto his highchair tray.

"Katherine, please," Erik said stiffly.

Bradley enthusiastically smacked his hand in the potatoes repeatedly, causing little bits to splatter with each hit. Then he put his head down in the smeared potatoes and drug it back and forth through the mess. Erik was positively pale and gripped his fork tightly in his hand. Katherine was frazzled, trying to get the kicking boy out of his highchair. Now Bradley started to yell in protest and flail as well.

Katherine finally succeeded in removing an anguished Bradley, who wasn't done with his meal, from his highchair and upstairs to the tub. Both Erik and Clayton both frowned at the mess, then left the table, leaving their dishes where they sat. Supper was over, whether everyone had finished eating or not.

Victoria cleared her plate and cleaned the table for her mother. She knew Katherine was busy with the baby, and didn't want her to have to come back down and deal with the potato mess. Potatoes had a way of turning to a consistency similar to cement when they dried. She also knew there would be no way her father would clean it up. He was old fashioned, and thought it was Katherine's job to take care of the baby. Clayton didn't bother to help; he was growing up to be just like his father.

When she finished, she went into the bathroom to wash her hands. As she turned to leave, Clayton came through the door, but Victoria blocked his path and looked up at him.

"What do you want, Vick?" he asked in an annoyed voice.

"Clayton, what's wrong with Bradley? Why does he do things like that?"

"Because he's retarded," Clayton growled.

"Is not!" Victoria yelled back at him.

"Is too! We can never have a normal meal in this house because of him. He always has to shriek because he can't have the blue bowl, or certain foods, or have a fit because he doesn't like what's in the blue bowl when he has it. He has to ruin everything! I was trying to tell Dad about my work day, but Bradley has to do his little retarded thing and mess everything up!"

"Stop saying that! That's not true! The doctor said there might be something wrong with him, but not that."

"Yeah, whatever," he shoved past her into the bathroom. "Now get out."

Victoria slowly climbed the stairs to her room. She was cranky after her conversation with Clay, and decided an evening playing with her dollhouse would be a nice way to be by herself. When she go to the top of the stairs, she saw her mother standing outside Bradley's room. She looked worried, or like she might be sick.

“Mom?”

“Oh,” Katherine jumped a little in surprise. She quickly brushed tears from her eyes and smiled at her daughter. She looked so beautiful with her hair down.

“Hi, sweetie. Don't forget to take your bath before bed.”

“What's wrong?” Victoria asked, ignoring her mother's statement.

“Nothing, honey. I'm just tired.”

Katherine gave her a hug and a kiss before retreating to her bedroom, leaving a confused Victoria standing in the hall.

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Victoria blinked her eyes, letting them adjust to the dim light of her nightlight. Bradley was screaming again. Her room was next to his, and although the house was very well constructed, his shrill cry managed to find the crack under her door and creep, unbidden, into her room, pulling her from sleep. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. With a yawn, she padded to the door and opened a bit. No longer muffled by her bedroom door, Bradley's scream echoed throughout his large room. She saw her mother go into the room.

Victoria peeked around the corner, feeling like a spy for the second time that day. Katherine attempted to calm Bradley, picking him up and cradling him in her arms.

He started to calm, his hysterical cries turning into soft whimpers. Katherine's voice could be heard singing him a soft lullaby, the same one she had sung to Vicoria when she was little. She wished her mother would sing to her. It had been so long. Her mother used to read to her, too, and play with her. But she was always too tired to do those things now.

"Victoria."

She jumped at the sound of her father's voice. She looked into his green-blue eyes, the same color as hers, and saw the frustration in them.

"You need to be in bed, young lady."

Victoria walked slowly back to her room, listening to the sound of the floorboards under her feet. Back in her bed she tried to reclaim sleep, but it was useless. She flopped to one side, then the other, pretending she didn't hear her parents voices getting louder and angrier, and Bradley starting to cry again.

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The day was growing darker by the minute. Although it was only three in the afternoon, it looked much later, and the wind was starting to pick up. It was a crisp day in late fall, which always depressed Victoria. She loved, and already missed the bright sunshine and warm days of summer. She hated the dark and cold. The first thing she noticed when the schoolbus pulled up in front of her house was that her mother's car was gone and her father's was home. She found that odd, since he usually worked until five, when her mother was just starting to get supper in the oven.

She knew Clayton was at work, and she found her father sitting down to read the paper.

“Where's Mom and Bradley?”

Her father frowned at her, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with sarcasm. “Your mother took it upon herself to have your brother evaluated. She's at the hospital, subjecting your brother to tests he doesn't need.” He opened his paper as if she wasn't standing right in front of him.

Victoria waited a moment, to see if he would say anything else. And when he didn't, “But maybe he does, Daddy. Maybe there's something wrong and he needs help.”

Her father looked around his paper at her. She wished he didn't. She wished he still had the paper in front of his face. His face to look at now was frightening. His eyes were dark, shadowy, and half closed in exasperation. His mouth was set in a half frown, and when he spoke, his words were clipped. Victoria was almost certain she didn't want to hear what was about to come out of his mouth.

She missed the days when she could interrupt his paper reading and he would smile at her, his eyes would twinkle and she would scamper up next to him, staring at the paper along with him, as if she understood the black inky words. But they hadn't done that together in such a long time.

“Shouldn't you be doing your homework, young lady?”

Victoria's vision immediately found her shoes. “Yes, sir,” she mumbled as she headed toward the study. She trudged across the living room slowly, like a condemned prisoner before execution. She tried to figure out where the happier times had gone. Of the time when, every Saturday night, they would crowd in front of the tv to watch a movie together, sometimes sitting on the floor sharing a big bowl of popcorn (a very unVanDoren activity if ever there was one, but Daddy didn't care so much about those things back then), and Daddy had things to share with them. Things not about work, but about fun stuff, trips they would someday take, and stories about how he and her mother met. Times when Clayton would tickle her until she thought she would wet her pants. They had continued these evenings late into her mother's pregnancy, but stopped after Bradley had been born.

“When the baby is a little older,” her mother used to tell her.

But it never happened. Her dad stopped telling fun stories and talking about exciting trips. The only time he wasn't frowning was when Clayton was sharing a work story. Clayton started frowning, too, and never tickled her anymore. He never even really talked to her anymore, except to say something like, 'Get out of the way, Vick' or 'Stay out of my room'. Mother never made popcorn anymore. She was always busy trying to keep Bradley happy, or being tired.

Reaching the study, Victoria reluctantly opened up her school notebook and started working, pushing her thoughts aside.

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"Ugh. Do it again. But this time do it correctly. Use a lighter touch, don't pound the keyboard. Begin."

Victoria tried her best, but her fingers fumbled through her scales. She cringed each time she hit the wrong note, which was often, and she was well aware of Mrs. O'Riley making abbreviated snuffing noises behind her. From across the room, her father stiffened, and she could feel his disappointment without even looking at him. Mrs. O'Riley put her hands over her ears to drown out the sound, then told her to stop. Erik glared at her disapprovingly for a moment before turning to her piano teacher.

"Your daughter will never be a piano player, Mr. VanDoren. Her fingers are too short to do the proper job, and her hands are too clumsy."

"Please, Mrs. O'Riley, won't you just give her another chance? I'm sure with a great deal of practice," he shot a look at his daughter before turning back to the elderly woman, "she'll improve."

"I'm sorry," Mrs. O'Riley said, snapping her briefcase closed. "I have a list of waiting children that need my instruction. I can no longer continue to teach her. Why don't you find something else for her to do? How about sports?"

"Sports?" Erik spat the word out distastefully.

"Then perhaps dance."

Erik frowned at her.

"Good day, Mr. VanDoren, Victoria" she said nodding to her father and then to her.

Erik did not look at her. Victoria tried to pull her ten year old body straight and hold her head high, but she still found herself looking at the ground as she shuffled out of the room and towards the stairs. She wished she could make him proud, like Clayton did. He was only thirteen, but already had a job and even gotten a promotion. Father was so proud of him. But for her, he was disappointed.

                                                                              *******

Supper wasn't quite as chaotic as the night before, but the tension in the air was almost palpable. Victoria could almost reach right out and grab a handful of it. Her father didn't make eye contact with anyone, but sat in his own thoughts while he hurriedly ate his meal. Her mother was much the same, but instead of eating quickly, she picked at her food, giving the illusion she was actually eating. Even Clay was quiet at the table for once. Either he had a boring evening at work, or he could tell that conversation wouldn't be welcome.

Bradley was not at the table with everyone. Katherine had scooted his highchair in the kitchen and fed him while she cooked for everyone else. Then he was taken up to his crib to play while the rest of them ate. That way supper couldn't become the circus it had last night, and had on many other nights.

It didn't seem right not to have Bradley here. Victoria actually liked watching him eat. He had a way of doing it that always amused her. He touched everything on his plate, turning it over carefully in his small, dimpled hands, inspecting it. The hard and crunchy foods he ate, the mushy ones he delighted in squeezing in his hands, watching in fascination as it oozed through his fingers. Then, deciding he didn't like having sticky hands, he would often rub them on the highchair tray, on his clothes, in his hair. His actions always made her mother sigh with tired fatigue, and her father and Clay grunt, glare, or both with dissatisfaction. Then Katherine, whose meal was never finished, would extract a complaining Bradley from his highchair and haul him up to the tub for the beginning of his bedtime routine.

But it was different now. It was too quiet.

After supper, Victoria decided to go up and visit her brother. He was sitting in his crib, softly banging his head against the bars. She had seen him do this many times, sometimes hard enough to worry her. When Bradley saw her, he stood up and complained to be let out. Victoria felt so bad for him. He looked miserable in there. She lowered the side of the crib and took him out, beckoning him to follow her to her room. Bradley had never played with the doll house before, and she could use some company.

“Okay, Bradley, you move the daddy like this,” assuming the roll of teacher, she took the daddy doll and bounced him along the doll house floor. “And then you say in a low daddy voice, 'I'm going to take a bath.' See Brad? You be the mommy. She says, 'Oh dear. The pork chops are burning!' and then she runs real fast to the kitchen like this.”

She hopped the mommy doll across the doll house and into the tiny kitchen. She went into a fit of giggles when she looked over at her brother and he was chewing on the maid doll. He was so funny, sometimes. She really enjoyed playing with him. She didn't get the chance often, because it seemed that her mother was always busy trying to teach him to talk, or rubbing his arms and legs firmly, because she said it helped calm him down. But sometimes, he just needed to play with his big sister.

“What is this?” Erik's voice boomed out from behind her.

Victoria jumped up in surprise and turned to face the angry face of her father. She couldn't remember the last time he had smiled. It seemed like everything she or Bradley did upset him, and made his face hard and mean.

“We're playing with the doll house, Daddy. See? Bradley's helping me.”

“Boys don't play with dolls.”

“He's just a baby, and he's having a lot of fun-”

“Are you talking back to me, young lady?”

“No, sir. We're just playing.”

Behind her, she was half aware of Bradley clanking one of the dolls on its head across the floor. “Ba, ba, ba,” Bradley prattled to no one in particular.

Victoria turned to see him putting the daddy doll in the bathtub and then make a 'shoosh'

sound like water coming out of a faucet. She couldn't help but smile. He was so smart. She had just barely taught him how to do that, and already he could do it on his own. But when she turned back to Erik, her smile vanished. He didn't even look like her father. He looked like a monster, like the kind Clayton and his goofy friends sometimes watched on tv when dad had to work late and Mom was at the therapy center with the baby. Those times when he was supposed to be getting his homework done, but he was watching scary movies and talking about things that didn't make sense, like how Suzie Snyder's boobs bounced when she walked, whatever that meant.

For what seemed like an eternity, all Erik did was glare down at her, the baby, the doll house, and back again, just to repeat the same circle over and over. Victoria swallowed hard and kept her mouth shut tight. Finally, he talked, but immediately she decided she liked it better when he was quiet.

“Move away from the dollhouse,” Erik said in a low voice.

“But – why?”

“Do not argue with me, girl, just do it!”

Victoria moved aside and proceeded to watch in horror as her father brought up his shiny black shoe and smashed it into the doll house, cracking the roof.

“Daddy no!!”

He ignored her as he repeatedly smashed his foot into the house. An ever-growing cloud of dust rose into the air, as small pieces of doll furniture and wood siding shattered more with each kick.

“Daddy, daddy, please stop!” Victoria watched as her mommy doll went bouncing across the carpeted floor. The toy stove flew across the room and hit the wall before falling to the floor. The tiny bathtub, with the daddy doll still in it bounced a few feet away. The daddy fell out while the tub tumbled another foot before stopping.

“No!!”

After pounding the house flat, Erik dusted the dust and debris off his designer suit and straightened his jacket and vest. He tried unsuccessfully to smooth back the hair that had fallen across his eyes and regarded his daughter with a satisfied expression.  “No son of mine plays with dolls.”

Victoria couldn't meet his eyes. She hated him. Bradley had already crawled away, disinterested in the whole affair. She sniffled and wiped her face on her sleeve.

“Clean up this mess,” Erik said softly before leaving the room.

Victoria looked at the once beautiful doll house, now flattened and broken on her bedroom floor. She saw the tiny broken windows, and the pillars snapped in half like toothpicks. The dining table lay about a foot away, . The daddy doll was laying where it had landed, smiling like it always had been, oblivious to the fact that his entire house and family had just been obliterated by a giant ogre.

Victoria picked up the daddy doll and stared at it. She had always liked this one the best, because his dark hair reminded her of Erik. Now she hated it for just the same reason. She threw the doll down and smashed its glass head with the heel of her shoe. Lying broken among the mess, the daddy's smile was now reduced to nothing but coarse rubble. Victoria swept it up with the rest of the small pieces and put the whole of it in the garbage bag.

Though her eyes were now raw, she was no longer crying. It was like her tears were all dried up and refused to come out anymore. Maybe she had already cried all the tears she had in her entire body. Feeling somewhat numb, she carried the bag downstairs and outside to the garbage. She tried to block out her parents' arguing voices, but snippets of the fight found her, anyway.

“How could you, Erik? She's just a child!”

“I will not have any son of mine playing with dolls. If that means removing the entire toy, then so be it! She'll just have to get over it!”

Victoria ran back upstairs as fast as she could to her room and shut the door. The corner where the doll house used to sit now looked bare and lonely. She felt lonely, too. She grabbed her teddy bear, Buttons, and hugged him close, snuggling him under her chin. Her eyes stung and a tear fell down her cheek, into the bear's fur. She sobbed softly, clinging to him. There were more tears in her, after all.