The Castle Cross the Magnet Carter by Kia Corthron

“This is B.J.” To B.J. I sign: Henry Lee.
    Henry Lee studies him several moments before speaking. “You like the trains?” He pushes the button to set it running. B.J.’s surprised face is all glee. Henry Lee goes on a long lecture, the fascinating world of his diesel caravan, despite knowing damn well my brother doesn’t understand a word. Maybe Henry Lee likes that: no interruptions.
    â€œThis garage door slides up for the fire engine to come barrelin out. Here’s the coal car. Look like real coal, right? Don’t touch. This safety stick really goes down when the train approaches the street crossin, don’t touch! ”
    I sit staring at them, brand-new Sopwith Camel model in my hand which Henry Lee doesn’t even seem to take notice of. Finally he sits back and lets B.J. observe in peace, my brother’s face all wonder. “I never met a dummy before.”
    â€œDon’t call him that.”
    â€œLemme see it.” I’m so relieved Henry Lee has finally shown interest, I hand my flyer over instantly, completely forgetting I’d meant to hold back a bit. How long had I been coming here before he let me work his train? He inspects the Camel from different angles. I figure as we play I could ease into asking him could I put one of his little people in the pilot’s seat, he’s got so many little people, and maybe he’d let me keep the guy under the promise I bring the model over often for him to play with, but I barely have time to flash these thoughts through my mind before he hands back my aeroplane, seeming already bored with it.
    â€œI wasn’t being mean. Before ‘dummy’ got to be an insult, it just meant somebody who couldn’t talk.”
    â€œI think I know that.”
    â€œSo.”
    â€œSo he can talk.”
    â€œCan he?” Henry Lee looks at B.J. with new interest, and I know I just slipped up. The train goes into the tunnel and comes out the other side, and B.J. laughs out loud. Apparently it’s his favorite part.
    â€œI mean, it sounds a little funny. He can’t hear, so he doesn’t know what the words are supposed to sound like, and he doesn’t know what he sounds like, so—”
    â€œMake him say somethin.”
    My stomach tight. “What?”
    Henry Lee has not taken his eyes off my brother. He walks to him, leans into his face, and with great exaggeration enunciates “train.” B.J. glances at him, but cannot transfer his attention from the moving passenger and freight cars, so Henry Lee turns it off. B.J. opens his mouth to protest, and I fear a tantrum might be coming, but Henry Lee points to the locomotive again and says, “ Train .” B.J. stares at him. Henry Lee picks up his Packard. “ Auto .” He points to himself. “ Henry .”
    B.J. looks at Henry Lee, a little smile turning the corners of my brother’s mouth. Suddenly Henry Lee claps his hands violently in B.J.’s face. “SPEAK!”
    B.J. and I are both startled. Then I hand-tell him: Say my name.
    He looks at me, then at Henry Lee. B.J. is no longer smiling.
    â€œSPEAK!” Henry Lee’s eyes wild.
    â€œRan ul.”
    Henry Lee looks at him, confused.
    â€œThat was ‘Randall.’”
    â€œRandall?”
    â€œI told you it wasn’t gonna sound exactly—”
    â€œNo no. Say it again.” B.J. is confused. Henry Lee purses his lips, acting as if it is a struggle for him to say it: “Ran ul.”
    My eyes flash at Henry Lee.
    â€œRan ul,” he says again, in B.J.’s face.
    â€œStop that.”
    â€œRan ul,” says B.J. My breathing.
    â€œRan ul,” says Henry Lee.
    â€œHenry Lee.”
    â€œRan ul,” says B.J.
    â€œRan ul,” says Henry Lee.
    â€œRan ul,” says B.J.
    â€œRan ul!” Henry Lee is bigger, he jumps excitedly.
    â€œRan ul!” B.J. imitates Henry Lee’s actions.
    â€œRan ul!