Cries That Went Unheard

Seven-year-old Sam Strickland sat quietly at his tidy desk. Sam hoped that if he stayed really still, like a statue, his teacher, Mrs Jones, wouldn't remember he existed. That way she wouldn't ask him any questions.

Normally, Sam enjoyed being the one to answer Mrs Jones's questions, it made him feel special, but not anymore. Lately he couldn't hear people properly. He knew he should tell Mum, but he didn't want her to carry on the way she had when Jenny, his big sister, told her about the baby that was growing in her tummy. He couldn't bare it if she yelled at him the way she had yelled at Jenny. He would definitely cry if she did that, and he hated crying.

Mrs Jones, who wore very short skirts like Jenny did, was saying something about triangles, or was it rectangles? He couldn't hear well enough to decide. God, he hoped she didn't call on him. He wouldn't be able to think of the answer now, even if he did hear the question. His palms were sweating and his heart was beating too fast. He just wanted to go and play with Rex and Jono. They wouldn't care if he couldn't hear them, as long as he could kick the soccer ball around.

"Sam, are you listening?" asked Mrs Jones. "I'm speaking to you. I don't know what's come over you lately."

Sam shot bolt upright, as if the sound of his name had given him an electric shock. "Sorry Mrs Jones. What did you say?"

"I said, how many sides does a triangle have?"

Sam focused really hard on watching her lips move. He was getting better at it now. "Oh, OK. A triangle has three sides."

"Yes, well done."

Sam heaved a sigh of relief. He felt very pleased with himself. Thank God, he thought. Another day I can keep pretending everything is fine and Mum won't yell at me. A few minutes later though, just as the bell rang for recess, Mrs Jones called Sam up to her desk.

"Sam, I think it's time we talked to your Mum about getting your hearing tested, don't you? You're not fooling me. I have worked with hearing impaired children for years." Damn, thought Sam. She's got me.

Sam sat with his Mum in the brightly decorated school reception area, waiting for Mrs Jones to call them into her office. Sam was fidgeting, wishing the school hadn't banned mobile phones last term. He wanted to play the new tile puzzle game he'd downloaded yesterday. He looked over at his Mum. She was staring into space, her hands all bunched up in her lap. He didn't understand what he had done to make her sad. He thought maybe he'd buy her some Coconut Rough, her favourite chocolate next time he went shopping with Dad. That always made her happy.

Just as he was beginning to think he would die if he had to sit still any longer, Mrs Jones emerged and beckoned them in to her sparsely furnished office.

"Sam, Mrs Strickland, take a seat. Can I offer you anything to drink? Tea, coffee?" "No thanks Mrs Jones. I hope this won't take too long, I'm late for a meeting with a client."

"No, it won't take long Mrs Strickland, but it is important." Sam noticed that Mrs Jones was using the "I'm trying not to get angry" voice she used with Michael Hanson when he didn't hand in his homework on time, which happened most days. He wondered why she was getting annoyed with his Mum. He didn't think he'd forgotten to get her to sign any permission forms. Besides, Mum's work was very important. Surely Mrs Jones knew that.

After shuffling some papers on her desk, Mrs Jones spoke intently to Sam's Mum. "So, Mrs Strickland, I wanted to talk to you about Sam's hearing. I'm a classroom teacher now of course, but earlier in my career I spent many years working in special education, teaching children with hearing loss. So it's very clear to me that Sam needs to have his hearing tested. I'm hoping you'll take him for a test. They are provided free of charge at the hearing centre in Edward Street. Do you know it?"

"Yes, but I won't be taking him. There's nothing wrong with his hearing. He just doesn't listen. He's glued to his phone half the time, on another planet. The rest of the time he's out playing with his friends. He's just distracted like most kids his age. There's nothing wrong with him. I'd have noticed if there was. I am his Mother after all."

Sam squirmed in his hard, plastic chair. He knew his Mum was right, he was often distracted but so was she. Always on her phone talking about work. He also knew Mrs Jones was right. He definitely couldn't hear as well as he used to.

"OK, well, Mrs Strickland, it's your decision. Be aware though, that if you delay the test, Sam's hearing may well deteriorate further and it could be too late to save it. Is that what you want, for Sam to become totally Deaf?"

"Oh don't be ridiculous. You're overreacting. Teachers today, you're all full of doom and gloom. He'll be fine, won't you Sammy."

Sam didn't respond. He didn't know what to say. Mrs Jones smiled at him kindly and shrugged. He knew better than to argue with his Mum, so there was nothing he could do.

Over the month that followed, Sam continued to struggle through his school days. Mrs Jones moved him to the front of the room, which made an enormous difference. Even so, he still couldn't always hear her if all the kids were talking at once or if she was talking while they were watching a video. He didn't dare ask his Mum about the test again. She'd seemed angry after their meeting, as if she blamed him for not being able to hear.

Sam lay awake at night tossing and turning. What would happen if he did go Deaf. He remembered seeing a show about a Deaf kid once. She had used her hands to talk which looked very hard. He didn't think he could learn to talk with his hands. Worse still, she couldn't speak at all. Would that happen to him?

It was a Friday evening and Sam's big sister Jenny was cooking a roast dinner for the family. Her parents were always working and never seemed to have the time or energy to cook a decent meal these days. Jenny was in her sixteenth week of pregnancy now and was looking forward to feeling her baby move for the first time. Although ill-timed and inconvenient, she felt very close to her baby already.

Humming softly to herself, Jenny bent down to put the heavy roasting dish containing the seasoned chicken into the oven. As she did so, a searing pain tore through her belly. It felt as though it would cut her in half. She dropped the dish which hit the tiled floor with an ear splitting clatter. Miraculously, Jenny managed to push herself away from the open oven, when she felt herself toppling forward. She fell backwards onto the kitchen floor, the pain intensifying as it radiated around to her back. She yelled for Sam who was in the next room watching TV. Why on earth hadn't he come running. He must have heard the commotion, she thought as she fought to breathe through the worst pain she had ever experienced. She called again. Still no response. Where was he for God's sake!

She could feel moisture seeping through her underwear and trickling down her legs. She was terrified. Once more she bellowed for Sam, more sharply this time. Still, nothing.

She was starting to worry about him. Then, she had an idea. "Hey Google, broadcast, Sam, come into the kitchen, I need your help." Sure enough, within seconds of her message being broadcast loudly through the Google Home in the lounge, Sam materialised, taking in the scene, horror registering on his innocent little face.

"Sam, call 000 and tell them you want an ambulance. I'll help you. But we have to hurry."

Two months later, Sam sat quietly at his tidy desk, feeling happy and sad at the same time. Happy because he now had hearing aids which meant he didn't have to concentrate so hard on what people were saying and best of all, he wouldn't have to learn to talk with his hands after all. Sad because Jenny's baby had died and it was all his fault.

When he had finally plucked up the courage to ask Jenny about it, she had hugged him very hard and promised him there was nothing anyone could have done. He didn't believe her though.

It was Jenny who had finally convinced his Mum to get his hearing tested. She had pointed out that he had only been in the next room, yet he hadn't heard the roasting dish clattering to the floor or her cries for help.

He was grateful to Jenny, but he wished he could make her happy again. She was always staying in bed these days and he often saw her rubbing her eyes, hoping he wouldn't notice she had been crying.

Sam's Dad promised she would be OK, reassuring him it would just take time. He hoped that was true.

Mrs Jones's voice cut into his thoughts.

"What's the capital of Australia?" Sam raised his hand, feeling confident he had heard her correctly.

"Yes Sam?" "Canberra Mrs Jones. The capital of Australia is Canberra."