Seatbelt strapped onto Wilfred’s waist, he leaned his head against the door to watch the house “move” and the scenery to inch away. The thought of having Tanya with Wilfred’s family gave him almost a migraine. Ironically, he was starting to have a headache for two reasons: backseats gave him headaches, even if he read; Tanya felt annoying like a pin slipped into the membrane of Wilfred’s own mind. The blazing sun hit him down like a blinding laser at surgery operation. The clouds wouldn’t work hard enough since there was no rain yet.

If only rain saved the day, Tanya would be disgusted and be blaming it on Wilfred’s dad and the television for not having any accurate information about weather.

“So Wilfred, how do you think the funeral will be?” asked Tanya, smiling as she leaned her neck back. But not a peep did Wilfred sang or do. He just stayed his position and watched trees go by in a smear.

“Okay, I’ll take it as an okay,” said Tanya, returning back to watching the front. The rays of sunshine glimmered on top of Wilfred’s blonde hair and little nose. Tanya’s was different. She had black hair as dirty as dog and the fattest nose anyone could possibly see. What was Mr. Montgomery thinking when he saw her?

“Okay, guys, we’re almost there,” said Richard. “Anyone needs a bathroom break?”

“Oh, I do, Richie,” said Tanya. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay, Tanya,” said Dad. “Hey, Wilfred, let’s stroll into the deli, shall we?” Wilfred said nothing, just unbuckles and went out to meet with his dad. Walking to the deli, Wilfred heard suspicious in Tanya’s mouth. And since the bathroom was next to the deli, Wilfred sneaked behind his father’s back and rushed near the ladies’ room. There, he heard Tanya’s talk on the phone and realized something: was Tanya actually nice?

The conversation was interesting, interesting enough if Wilfred had a voice and spoke about it to his dad. He wanted to resist spying but he couldn’t resist as he heard the tone Tanya used.

“Oh, Marcy, he is so nice,” said Tanya. “Ah, girl, not that nice to say! But anyways, Richie has a son named Wilfred and never did he speak since his mom died! Aha I know, but the boy’s a wimp! He never talks!” The voice sounded profound, but Wilfred stayed for more.

“Oh, I know, Marcy, but anyways, what I’m thinking is that after we get married, I’ll trick Richie into adopting a little girl, you know, so Mama will think I did something good in life! Who needs that boy anyways? He’s a ghost wearing that scarf like a cowboy! I know it’s like he’s a freak in one of them Coney Island shows!”

The words were too unbearable for Wilfred to accept as candy. His ears seemed to stick to the wall, and Wilfred will not take it anymore. He wants to learn to speak before the wedding, if that’s the last thing he does! He will not take such insolence from anybody, not even his father!

“Hey, Wilfred, what are you doing next to the ladies’ room?” asked Dad, who spooked the gizmos out of Wilfred. He tried to shrug his shoulders but it was too late. Tanya walked out and said, “Oh, hi Richie, I had to make an important call with my friend. It’s really important that I talk with her.”

“Well, I understand,” said Mr. Montgomery.

“Um, can you please give me some privacy to talk with Wilfred here?”

“Oh, sure, anything for you, Tanya,” said Dad, leaving to the car. “I’ll be at the car.”

“Okay, Richie,” said Tanya, pulling Wilfred to her. “Listen here, Wilfred, I don’t care what you Puerto Ricans think, but I know you were by the girls’ room and anything you try to pull won’t cut it. You understand me, Wilfred? Oh, wait, you can’t talk. Why? Oh, maybe it’s because grief got the best of you and you’re just afraid that showing it would blow my engagement with your father. So nice try, you little Latino twit, you damn fool of a hooligan! I am not who I am.”

Words were too foreign for Wilfred, not even a person of Tanya’s IQ can perceive. Such anger and animosity from this woman can go through this child’s mind.

What happened that Richard met such an intolerable woman like Tanya? Hasn’t the man got some good manners to think about his child’s future?

The funeral was nothing but black outfits and a corpse in the middle. The corpse had a gravestone, in print: “In Memory of Dylan Franklin ‘D.F.’ Google (Pronounced goo-gleh)”. Everyone mourned for him, except for Wilfred. For what he saw and felt was an opportunity to be made by him.

Dylan was Wilfred’s good friend, who understood his life since the very beginning of light. When no one could speak or communicate with Wilfred, it was Dylan who could do the job.

Whenever the Yellow Jackets or any other enemies try to remove Wilfred’s yarn of pride, Dylan stopped them from committing such a crime.

“We are gathered here today to mourn the sorrowful goodbye of Dylan Franklin Google, and to savor this moment, we have an honor of letting Delia and George Google, Junior to share their speech,” said Reverend West. He too wore black.

But poor Wilfred felt like an outsider. He didn’t belong in this world and neither should’ve Tanya enter his life with a cover.

As the lonely wife and crying husband made their speech, Wilfred saw more about Tanya: she started whispering to a woman in black sparkles and hair bon. He tried to speak but realized his condition not to.

Turning his head around, anxious Wilfred wanted the day to be over by the time the funeral ended. The insults Tanya gave about him and his heritage stuck to his mind like super glue on construction paper. He pulled onto his blue knitted sweater to keep warm, though it was October crisp. Dylan had only died two weeks ago and Tanya had been accompanying him and Mr. Montgomery.

Wilfred knew what to do: he was going to write a harsh letter to his Dad, stating it from Tanya. Then, he would make Tanya leave to go someplace else and then come back, unprepared for an argument with his dad. If that doesn’t work, Wilfred will just have to record Tanya’s insults on a tape recorder and switch the home videos with the recorded insults for Mr. Montgomery to hear.

All this planning might be harsh to him and Dad, but it’ll brown sugar in tea once he hears Tanya’s voice from it. It will be the day the Lord will give Wilfred his voice and the day Dad would say the word for Tanya Ramirez-never-to-be-Montgomery to hear…NO!

Wilfred, getting back to subject, studied to see if Tanya was speaking to that lady again; unfortunately she was, now that the funeral was over and the mourning was done. “Come on, Wilfie,” said his dad. Wilfie was what his father always called him if he didn’t want to say his real name. Wilfred, walking with his father, came up to Tanya and the woman she was talking to: Marcy.

The woman wore sparks of black as a dress, short heels, and had a black hair bon the color of dirt in the island of Trinidad and Tobago. Tanya looked at Wilfred like a crow, ready to strike anytime, any day, but she didn’t.

Instead, she went up to Wilfred and said, “Wilfred, meet my friend from my hometown, Marcy Logan.”

“Hello, Wilfred,” said Marcy, holding out her hand. Shyly, Wilfred shook Marcy’s hand in a shudder, and brought it back.
“Is he the silent one you were talking about?”

“Yes, Marcy, it is,” said Tanya, seeming to ignore Wilfred.

“Oh, well then, Wilfred, meet my kids,
Giana and Peter Logan,” said Marcy, revealing a girl in a black dress and sandals and a boy in a black tux. They seem to look at Wilfred like he was outsider, but they misunderstood the factor of his muteness and that he still had feelings.

“Mommy, does he talk?” said Giana, staring at Wilfred.

“No, he doesn’t sweetie, why?”

“Just wanna know, Ma,” said Giana, turning to her brother and shoving him by the shoulder. Peter then said, “Yo Giana, let’s talk to Will!”

“Now is that any way to talk to your sister and in front of a guest?” demanded Mrs. Logan.

“You let us do that at home, even when relatives are here,” back-answered Giana.

“Excuse me, missy, but I don’t think doing that at a funeral is very nice,” said Marcy, giving them talk.

“Okay, Ma, we’re sorry,” said Peter.

“Good, now, introduce you to Willard,” said Marcy.

“It’s Wilfred, Marcy,” said Tanya.

“Oh, sorry, I’m meant Wilfred,” said Marcy, smiling at the incident.

Don’t worry, you didn’t make the mistake, Mrs. Logan, but Tanya did. Oh, she is a very, very bad girl! No wonders what she’s gonna do next: trap me in an unknown cellar? Wilfred thought in a grin.

Arm by arm, the kids took Wilfred to the snack bar, ready to reveal his most prized possession: his scarf.

Giana spoke first to Wilfred, keeping in pattern with Peter Logan. She started,
“How come you don’t speak, Wilfred?”

Wilfred didn’t say a peep. He just stayed looking at his brown sneakers of Velcro.

“Huh, answer me. Oh, wait, you never talk. Guess you don’t how to react when I do this,” she stopped. She picked a ladle from the fruit punch bowl and tapped it hard of Wilfred’s forehead.

If he did talk, he would say, “Why would you do that, Giana? Don’t you know feelings or emotions or things like that? How to feel pain or grief? I know my grief stopped me from talking, but don’t ever do that again!” But he let out a little tear that was absorbed into his scarf.

“And why’d you have that scarf? Mind if I take it?” remarked Giana, reaching for the scarf. Quickly, he grabbed hold of the ladle and banged it hard on Giana’s skull.

The impact froze everyone and eyes were on Wilfred, or the Silent One. “Ow, you monster, I was going hold your scarf, idiot! What happened to you, beast?” exclaimed Giana.

Words of Giana combined with Tanya’s pierced into Wilfred’s heart and shoved it down his spine, scraping everything he heard or saw in his lifetime of silence.

Peter grabbed Wilfred and they hid by the appetizer bar. “Don’t worry about Giana, okay? When we were up in the tree, she blamed me for her fall twenty feet from it,” said Peter. He giggled a bit but stopped to say something. “If you ever need help or a shoulder from something, I’ll be your new friend, Wilfred.” If he didn’t have the scarf, Wilfred’s smile would be revealed.

But it didn’t happen that way and the fun was over. It was time to go home to his tragedy in a tormented hell.

The first thing Wilfred did at home was rush up to his bedroom and sat on his bed, watching the mirror taunt him.

Why couldn’t I speak? Or have to wear this scarf? Or have to be insulted for who I was? Wilfred thought, looking into the mirror.

Maybe they were right: maybe grief did get the best of me and I couldn’t talk anymore. But I can’t take it anymore. The sayings people say, and the actions they act. Don’t they know we’re all mortals and we can feel things? Haven’t they learned from Jesus Christ before and after he died; or the Ten Commandments; or to love another as themselves would?

The thoughts Wilfred said in his head seem to stick to the mirror and disappear.
Maybe if he had his own free time, things would be okay, and Tanya wouldn’t be in the…oh, why talk about Tanya when there’s a silent boy living a horrid because of her? Pound-da-stomp! Wilfred heard footsteps coming from the stairs. He got up in a jiffy and stood his guard.

Who could it be my Father’s devil?

“Wilfie,” said Tanya. Yep, I was correct.
“Wilfie, may I come in?”

Please do, my fiend, thought Wilfred.

“Okay, Wilfred, I’m sorry for what Giana did to you but you shouldn’t have done that to her. You’re a boy; boys don’t hit, talk rude, and/or tease girls.” Why not, you did the same to me at gas station, he thought to himself.

“So, Wilfred, please do one of your little sorry gestures to Giana when the kids come in?”

They’re coming here!?! Who do you think you are, the Devil’s daughter!?!

“Tanya, the Logan’s are here!”

“Oh, I’ll be down, Richie, dear! Now, you better apologize or else you’ll get the thing what they do back in my hometown, okay? Good,” growled Tanya.

She left the room in a strut and gave Wilfred evil eye. He took off the hat and smoothed down his blonde hair. Bring it, Ramirez, he thought. Let the games be on!

When Giana and Peter came into the room, they stared at Wilfred in movement. What would you like, my guests?

“My sister and I have come here to accept your apology from the funeral earlier,” started Peter, as if on cue.

Wilfred pointed to himself and “wrote” sorry backwards for the kids to read.

“Apology accepted, Willie,” said Giana, crossing her arms. This time, she wore overalls and a pink shirt. She tapped the wood with the same sandals from the funeral.

“It’s Wilfie, Gianni,” said Peter.

“Whatever,” said Giana. “Anything to say to me, Wilfred?”

Wilfred grabbed pen and paper from his desk and wrote down a note. He gave it to Peter to read and Giana said, “Apology accepted.”

Good, because I didn’t accept yours.

“Good, now we’ve apologized and let’s have a big hug, shall we?” said Peter. But they didn’t hug. Instead, Wilfred went on his bed and looked at the ceiling. While that happened, Giana grabbed Peter by the arm and dragged out of the room.

Something must’ve indicated Giana to lie because in the next chapter, the unbelievable happens. And it’s all because of the insolent manner and unwanted presence of Tanya Hannah Ramirez.

There it is again, and how it shall be: Tanya Hannah Ramirez…Tanya Hannah Ramirez…Tanya Hannah Ramirez…Tanya Hannah Ramirez…even that gave Wilfred one of those car headaches.

“Oh, Wilfie,” shouted Tanya after a door slammed. Wilfred sprouted up in a jiffy. What could it be?

Stomping shook the stairs as Tanya’s breath for revenge arose. Mr. Montgomery must’ve not been here. If he was, he would’ve stopped Tanya in her tracks. Now there was no help from anyone.

All except for a mirror, standing witness to experience what happened. If only Dad loved me, none of this would’ve happened. If only Dad loved me…

Wilfred’s thought ended when the stomping stopped and the door whacked open, the steel handle almost indenting itself on the wall. Wilfred’s pupils grew big like black olives and Tanya’s breathe almost hallucinated Wilfred’s vision.

If only Dad loved me…

Tanya raised the leather belt with her bracelet hand and bared her teeth like an angered horse. Wilfred curled to the back of the bed and tried to protect himself by raising his arm in front of him.

Tanya locked the door and covered the windows with blinds. “Your Daddy should’ve known what I had for a life…a mother working two jobs treating me right like the witch’s pearl. I never made it to junior high school, and I don’t think you will.”

Crack! The belt smacked Wilfred’s arm down and his tears pour down. Another two cracks hit Wilfred again, this time, they burned to his jeans. The sizzles numbed his thighs and his tears turned into actual cries.

Crack-smack! This time, the belt dislocated one of his ribs and tears kept rolling down into his scarf.

The last crack gave Wilfred a warning. It was: “Careful, this woman is harmful. Don’t listen to her, but tell your father you love him, even if you can’t speak.”

Crack! The final beating made Wilfred fall off the bed and lay unconscious. The finale took place on his cheek near his jaw, which leaked out blood, turning the scarf into dirty beige with violet.

He rolled over in pain and his damaged body caused his mirror to fall upon him and broke into a million pieces, showing the reflection of the vicious monster against her prey.

“Better learn your lesson, kiddo because now, I feel good from doing that,” said Tanya, smiling and letting the belt absorbed some of the blood. She unlocked the door and stopped to find someone in her tracks: Mr. Richard Alberto Montgomery.

“Tanya, what was going on in there?” asked his dad.

“Nothing, sweetie; why won’t you have a cup of tea, won’t you, it’ll make you feel a lot better from that trip,” sweet mouthed Tanya, trying to get away from it.

“Okay, let’s see what on there—OH, MY GOD, WILFRED!” shouted his dad. “What happened here?” he asked, scooping Wilfred’s feather-weighted head off from the ground.

Another suspicious thing caught his attention: his work belt. Wilfred never knew where it was, but someone else did: Tanya Hannah Ramirez.

“Why, Tanya, why, why hurt my only son?” he asked, getting up and picking Wilfred up in his arms. His head fell back as blood dripped on the floor. “Because he needed to learn about life as a kid,” said Tanya, but Richard stopped her.

“Not, not to a kid whose mother and best of his friends died, you will not, and don’t ever think to do it again, okay, Tanya? Because the wedding is off,” he said, slipping his ring down the drain in the bathroom. “I’m calling emergency right now.” Tanya stood quiet for a whole fortnight, until it went to court.

After the surgery on Wilfred was done and he recuperated for two weeks, it was Montgomery vs. Ramirez at Court. Judge Henry Ferguson stood at his place, with Cop Cory at aid.

“We are here in court for a case between Richard Alberto Montgomery against Tanya Hannah Ramirez,” stated Judge Ferguson. “It says here that you, Richard, used to be an accountant until your wife’s death, which made your son be called the Silent One. Please tell us about that.”

“Well, you see, your honor, this is my first time in court so I’m not used to talking about my son, anyways getting back to point, um, well, when my wife Marge died, my son Wilfred had so much grief that he ended up being quiet and he would always wear this scarf his best friend bought for him before he died.”

“And who is this friend?”

“Dylan Franklin Google and his parents were very good friends and guests to me. So, getting close to his death, my fiancée Tanya Ramirez said that she used to have great business as a barista at a bar in Chicago. Following the day the Dylan died, Wilfred ended up in the hospital because Tanya beated him with my work belt. Well, I didn’t see it happen, but I did know that Wilfred never knew where my belt was except Tanya because she was my girlfriend and I tell her everything.”

“So how do you feel about your son right now, Richard?”

“Well, right now, I hope to God that he’ll be alright because he was never strongly immune to anything.”

“I hope so too, Richard. Now, let’s the other side of the story by Tanya Hannah Ramirez, said to be barista at a Chicago bar. Let us hear about that, shall we?”

“Well, your honor,” said Tanya, using that sweet-honey voice of hers. “I can tell you I’m innocent and I was having fun with Wilfred until he hit his head against that cold mirror of his.” Richard looked funny at her.

“And I never took that belt, besides Wilfred knew where it was He was the one who got it from his father’s closet and we were trying it on him and he got squashed so hard, he was nearly a Smurf! Besides, if anybody needs therapy, it’s Wilfred, because I know he talks to me, but not to Richie.”

“Thank you, Tanya. So I hear from Richard that Wilfred was found beaten by you with his work belt and only you had knowledge of the belt’s whereabouts. And then, you come to tell me two isolated events of this: his head hit the mirror and broke it and he squeezed himself with his father’s work belt and he didn’t know where the belt was,” said Judge Ferguson, taking a piece of paper from the Cop Cory. “What’s this? Aha, a letter, hmm. Let’s see, blah blah blah…blah bloo blah…

“This comes from your son, Richard. It says: ‘Judge, if you do anything to my father, he didn’t deserve it. But it was Tanya’s fault: she should’ve never hit me with that belt. And it’s okay if Daddy wants Tanya over me because I’ve already made up my mind: I want to have a bright future with a real family and not one where someone barges into my life and destroys it like a twister. Please do as you can… From the Kid Who Will Have a Bright Future, Wilfred Wyatt Montgomery.’”

The notice brought tears to Richard’s eyes as he remembered Wilfred would’ve been saying that to court. “May I please see the boy right now?” asked Judge Ferguson.

Wilfred, still wearing his scarf, rolled down the aisle with his head down, sitting in the wheelchair. He stopped when he saw his father and his father smiled back at him.

“I’ll miss you, son,” he mouthed. Wilfred nodded and walked to the judge to receive his notice.

Before leaving, Judge Ferguson said, “Wait, Wilfred, I have an announcement to make: by reading your notice to court, you are now being sent to a family that is whole and good.”

Wilfred nodded and ran to hug his father, tears in his eyes. Tanya made a scowl and wanted to protest that she must have Wilfred once and for all. “And for you, Tanya, and your abusive acts to Wilfred, you are sentenced to ten years in jail,” said Judge Ferguson.

She gasped and wanted to attack the judge but Cop Cory was stronger than her. Everyone in jury applauded for Wilfred and Richard. Richard said to Wilfred, “Wilfie, I am so sorry for what that woman did that to you. I promise you a second chance at being the one child that I’ll wish to see.”

Wilfred pointed to himself and gestured a heart and pointed to his father. They smiled and hugged for an opportunity much greater than this can be no match for the power of love.