Silence Speaks: A Sonny and Breanne Mystery #4

By James Paavola

Eighth graders Sonny and Breanne look nothing alike—a short black boy, a tall white girl. Their special friendship developed after they discovered they both had psychic powers: they can read minds, and ghosts talk to them. Their ghost friends help them deal with bullies and solve mysteries. In Book 4, dreams provide clues to solving two different mysteries. And when Sonny and Breanne are locked in a burning room, their only hope of getting out is the ghost of a five-year-old boy who is deaf.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Paavola
• Release date: Jul 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781736413418

James Paavola

Dr. James C. Paavola is a retired psychologist. His primary focus had been children, adolescents, families, and the educational system. Jim began writing mysteries at age sixty-four. He lives with his wife in Memphis, Tennessee.

Book preview

Also by James Paavola

Novels

Astrobia: A Sonny and Breanne Mystery #3

(Astrobia: featured in the 2020 ‘Diversity Issue’

of Kirkus Reviews magazine)

Call Me Firefly: A Sonny and Breanne Mystery #2

Jack and the Beanpole:

A Sonny and Breanne Mystery

The Unspeakable: Murder In Memphis

(The Unspeakable: A Killer Nashville Silver

Falchion Finalist)

Cast the First Stone: Murder In Memphis

Blood Money: Murder In Memphis

Which One Dies Today? Murder In Memphis

They Gotta Sleep Sometime: Murder In Memphis

The Chartreuse Envelope: Murder In Memphis

Short Stories

published in the Malice in Memphis mystery anthologies:

Heinous Crimes and Murder

In Blues City Clues (Expected in 2022)

Five-Six-Seven-Eight In Lies Along the Mississippi

A Cry from the Ashes In Mayhem in Memphis

Down in the Furnace Room In Elmwood: Stories to Die For

The Adventures of Sonny Etherly: Special Powers In Ghost Stories

The Silver Star In Bluff City Mysteries

Silence

Speaks

A Sonny and Breanne Mystery

(Book 4)

A Novel by

James C. Paavola

Copyright © 2021 by James C. Paavola

Published by J&M Book Publishers

Memphis, Tennessee

www.jamespaavola.com

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-1-7364134-0-1

ePub ISBN: 978-1-7364134-1-8

Printed in the United States of America

Cover Design: Shannon Paavola Greene

Model for Cover and American Sign Language Alphabet: six- year-old Ariana Greene

Helen Keller

(reflecting on being both blind and deaf)

"Blindness separates us from things

Deafness separates us from people."

Acknowledgements

I want to thank my core team: my wife Marilyn for her support and proof reading, our daughter Shannon for her creativity in crafting the cover and ASL alphabet, Carolyn McSparren for her insightful editing of the manuscript, and Teresa Wilson for her guidance regarding the Deaf and Hard of Hearing community—their language and their culture.

Special thanks goes to Betty Krone for challenging me to write a story that would introduce Hearing readers to the world of deafness, while providing characters Deaf readers could identify with. Betty Krone and Teresa Wilson are retired educators extraordinaire from the Memphis City Schools Deaf and Hard of Hearing program. Both women continue to advocate for and serve members of the Deaf and Hard of Hearing community.

Thanks also to our writing critique group—Phyllis Appleby, Barbara Christopher, Carolyn McSparren, and Patricia Potter—for their learned reviews and encouragement. Thanks so much.

The Sonny and Breanne Mystery novels were inspired by characters I introduced in two short stories published by Dark Oak Press—The Adventures of Sonny Elliott: Special Powers (2016), and Down in the Furnace Room: A Sonny and Breanne Mystery (2017).

Dedication

To our niece, Jennifer Guthrie, who was born profoundly deaf. Thanks to the devoted advocacy of an entire village, Jennifer was mainstreamed for sixth through twelfth grade in the Carmen-Ainsworth Community Schools of Flint, Michigan. That village included her parents Richard and Pam Jenkins, older sister Amy, special education coordinator Dorothy Church, as well as the regular education students, teachers and cheerleader coach who accepted her. Jennifer graduated from Gallaudet University and went on to earn a master’s degree in education from Michigan State University, becoming a teacher of youngsters who are Deaf and Hard of Hearing.

A tribute to a gifted woman and a supportive village!

One

Breanne

Breanne, it’s for you, Momma said, holding out the phone.

Me? Nobody ever calls me, I thought.

Momma put her hand over the end of the phone and whispered, Mrs. Etherly.

Oh-oh. Sonny’s grandmother. Something must be wrong. I crossed the room, took the phone, and faced away from Momma. Hello…? I said softly.

Grams began talking immediately, her words rushing out. It’s Sonny. You’ve got to come.

Sonny? What about Sonny?

He’s not himself. You’re the only person who knows what he’s been through.

Has to be about Sonny being taken. I glanced back. Momma was watching. She’s gonna want to know why Grams is calling me. But we all promised never to tell anyone.

Breanne? You there? Grams asked.

I’m here.

You have to come.

Yes, okay, I said. See you in a few minutes.

Hurry. Please. She hung up.

I gave the phone back to Momma.

What’s going on? she asked.

Sonny’s Grams wants me to come over. Said she’s worried about Sonny.

Worried? About what?

Can’t tell her aliens kidnapped him. She said he’s not acting like himself.

Did something happen at school?

Yeah. In the school library. Probably.

You want me to go with you?

I shook my head. I won’t be long.

I walked quickly to the Etherly house, just a few streets over and down the block. Sonny’s my only true friend—my psychic friend. Momma home-schooled me to keep anyone from finding out that ghosts talk to me. She didn’t enroll me in regular school until eighth grade. That’s when I met Sonny and discovered we could read each other’s minds.

I turned up the walk to Sonny’s house. An older, tiny black woman stepped onto the porch, held the door open, her eyes glued on me. She wore a neat, off-white, flower-print dress, and her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun. Grams forced a smile and grabbed both of my hands the second I stepped onto the porch.

Thank you for coming, Dear, Grams said. Come in, come in. She gently closed the door behind us. I let Sonny sleep in on Saturdays, she said quietly, then guided me to the living room sofa.

Grams twisted toward me. I’m worried. Sonny hasn’t been the same since he escaped from that planet and came back to Earth. It’s like he lost all his energy. I have to badger him to get up, to get dressed. I can’t get him to do anythin’. He’s cut way back on his eatin’. On top of that, I don’t think he’s even turned on his computer, done his homework, or fooled with his precious rock collection.

He seemed okay Friday when we walked home from school, just a bit tired is all.

Grams shook her head. When he don’t have somethin’ he has to do, he doesn’t do anythin’. This ain’t like him. You know Sonny. That big brain of his is usually goin’ ninety-to-nothin’. But not now.

I touched Grams’ hand.

She put her other hand on top of mine. When you and me held hands after he was kidnapped by those outer-space creatures from…

Astrobia, I said. The planet Astrobia.

Yeah, that one. Well, I don’t know how you did it, but when we held hands, I could sense Sonny’s feelings all the way to that planet. I couldn’t believe it. And since then, I found I can do it right here in the house, all by myself.

I squeezed her hand.

Grams glanced down at our hands, then looked up. Somehow, now I’m connected to him more than ever. When he’s afraid, I feel it. When he’s having a bad dream, I can’t tell what it’s about, but I sense his fear. Fact is, when he’s scared it wakes me up and I go check on him. I’m right by his side when those nightmares jerk him awake. He’s in a cold sweat and breathing hard. But he won’t tell me about ’em.

I nodded. He said he dreamed about when he was stuffed inside that cupboard on Astrobia. When he was so frightened. That’s when our minds made contact with his.

Grams nodded. I figured his nightmares had somethin’ to do with that. Never forget how terrified he was. All hope sucked outta him.

He was only gone a few hours in Earth time, but almost three days in Astrobia time. So, for three days he thought he’d never get back to Earth.

Grams grimaced. We were worried sick, but he went through so much more than we did.

I smiled. The three of us made such a strong connection with our minds across all those space miles. I remember how you spoke to him through your thoughts. You kept telling him not to give up, to work on an escape plan. And that’s exactly what he did.

Grams sighed. Yeah, but now he’s back he’s not the same. He’s stopped lis’nin to me. It’s like I’m talkin’ to the wall. I’m afraid I’m losin’ my precious Sonny. He just mopes around all day, like those creatures scared the old Sonny right outta him. How can we get his spirit back? How can I help him not be so afraid?

Sonny always bounces back, I said. My grandmother keeps telling me I need to be patient. Says things just take time.

Grams nodded. I think all grandmothers say that ’cause we’ve been around long enough that we’ve seen things get better after a spell. In fact, now I think about it, sometimes Sonny’s daddy does the same thing when he comes home from his tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. Even if he is a Marine, those places take it outta him, too.

You mean PTSD? Like a lot of our soldiers come back with?

Don’t know about that. Just know he’s different. But he always snaps out of it after a while.

Sonny will too.

Grams smiled. Sonny’s lucky to have a friend like you.

And he’s lucky to have a grandmother like you.

Grams walked me to the front door, gave me a hug. Promise me you’ll keep a lookout for Sonny.

Always do. I’ll check on him Monday morning when we walk to school.

Two

Sonny

What a dull Monday, I thought. The houses and trees look so flat…so drab. No depth. No color. Everything in black and white, like the pictures in Grams’s old photo album.

… I feel empty. Totally blah.

Something’s moving. I squinted into the rising sun. An image appeared in the distance, wavy like a desert mirage. I blinked and focused my eyes until the silhouette took a familiar shape—a tall skinny white girl, with long straight wind-blown hair, taking super long strides—and yes, wearing bright green glasses.

Breanne waved.

I raised my hand about chest high, then pushed up my black-rimmed glasses with my index finger. When Breanne crossed the street I turned and started walking to school. She came alongside me.

Hey, Sonny, she said quietly. I managed a weak, Hey, Bree.

We walked for about a block without saying anything. When she spoke, she sounded real serious. How’re you doing?

Doing?

She stopped and turned to me. I watched you get abducted by aliens about a week ago. I was afraid you wouldn’t ever come back from the planet Astrobia. Thought I’d never see you again. I can’t get that whole thing out of my head. It just stays there like a big, scary, dark shadow waiting to grab me.

I looked down. Yeah. Seems like yesterday. … Seems like a hundred years ago. … I’ve been scared before, but never that scared. I raised my eyes, but didn’t look at Breanne. Guess I still am. I’m tired all the time. Don’t want to do anything. And I’m as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of people in rockin’ chairs. Jumpin’ at every stupid little noise.

Me too, Breanne said. Can’t concentrate during the day. I’m still having dreams about it. Bad ones.

I looked up at her. I’ve had lotsa dreams. Some woke me up. I musta been yelling in them because when I opened my eyes my Grams was standing there watching me.

She was scared she’d lost you forever. Bet she’s having bad dreams, too. Needs to keep checking on you to make sure you’re still here on Earth.

I nodded. We started walking again. I felt something odd—the beginning of a smile. But scientifically speaking, I have to say being on a different planet was kinda cool. Not many people have done that.

True. But we don’t wanna go through that again. Let’s just make sure from now on we only talk to Earth ghosts.

Good idea. Don’t need to be talking to ghosts from other planets.

When we got to the school door, about ten kids were ahead of us. Once it was our turn, Breanne grabbed the open door and motioned for me to go in first. We passed the side hallway leading to the primary grades and heard loud voices up ahead. Students bunched up at the next side hallway that led to the intermediate grade classrooms. Two older white boys, taller than me, were pointing and laughing at a much younger student—an Asian girl. But the little girl stood her ground, hands on her hips and glared at them.

Three other girls about her size, one white and two black, stood next to her telling the boys to stop. All of a sudden, one boy’s books crashed onto the floor.

He spun around. Hey! Who did that?

The girls all laughed.

One girl spoke up. You did it your own self, Logan Allen.

Yeah, said another. Serves you right for picking on Wu Ling.

A teacher came out of her classroom.

Logan’s buddy saw her. C’mon, let’s get outta here.

Logan picked up his books, and the two boys left.

Wu Ling turned, watched the boys walk toward the fifth grade classrooms.

One girl tugged on Wu Ling’s arm. Wu Ling turned and looked at her. I didn’t hear what she said, but Wu Ling nodded and the four girls headed down the side hall to their third grade classroom.

That little girl was getting bullied, I said.

Breanne nodded. And her classmates stuck up for her.

Glad to see that kid drop his books. He was trying to act so tough, so cool.

Breanne checked behind her, then turned back. I’m not so sure Logan dropped them.

Of course he did. We both saw it.

Breanne cocked her head. You know how sometimes you’re able to sense the presence of a ghost before we can see it?

Yeah… So?

Did you sense anything this time? she asked. Just before the books hit the floor?

I shook my head. You thinking a ghost knocked them outta his hands?

Not sure. But I clearly heard someone groan behind me right before it happened. And when I looked, no one was there.

Well, you’re the one who can hear ghosts.

Unless we’re touching hands, she said, sticking out her hand. Then we can both see and hear ghosts.

I shook my head. Uh-uh. Not gonna get caught holding your hand out here in front of everyone.

Breanne rolled her eyes and sighed.

But, I said, if that was a ghost—an Earthly ghost—that would be way cool. Another ghost protecting kids against bullies.

True, Breanne said, then paused. I wonder why those boys were picking on her.

Three

Sonny

Breanne and I took the stairs to our lockers to drop off our afternoon books—hers on the third floor, mine on the second. I must’ve been moving kinda slow because the tardy bell for first period history rang just as I took my seat next to the windows. Like everything else lately, I had zero interest in history.

I need the shades drawn, Ms Case said, for my PowerPoint on the Louisiana Purchase.

Instantly, desks scraped the floor and shoes clomped as students raced to the super tall windows—one kid bumped my desk, another grabbed my shoulder as he made the turn to a nearby window. One after the other, the shades hummed as they unrolled. Kids returned to their desks, and someone cut off the lights.

But, instead of watching slides showing old maps of America, I became interested in the light streaming in from a section of one window left uncovered by the torn and wavy old shade.

From the second floor window I could look down on the roofs of a few metal portable classroom buildings which sat in a row close behind our main school building. Each portable had one or more pieces of trash on its roof. I guess kids threw stuff up there.

My mind quickly drifted. Metal. I’d been held captive in a metal building on planet Astrobia—metal with a tensile strength greater than anything on Earth, way stronger than the flimsy metal and wood these