B-L-I-N-D?! - Table Of Contents

Meeting the parents

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

Christmas Lights

PART I

PART II

B-L-I-N-D?!

1.

Hearing sucks.

Then you tell me I’m crazy, because I should be thankful and all that shit, but let me tell you something: it’s definitely not fucking cool being the only hearie in a family that prides itself in the fact that the last hearing person is rotting away in a coffin for almost a hundred years. It’s not. Especially when you’re a kid trying to fit in.

B-L-I-N-D?! — II.

II

We climb the steps to the doorway and I press the doorbell.

“What are we waiting for?” Henry asks, holding his cane close to his chest, nervously fiddling with the black safety tire around his wrist.

“Someone to open?”

“But how-”

“The lights flicker inside the house, ” I hold his hand and show him where the small button is. “No sound.”

“Oh. Makes sense.” His hand long for a moment in the wall, exploring. I take the one that’s wedged between my elbow and ribcage and entwine our fingers instead. I’m ready to do this and he senses it, grinning a little.

Mom opens the door a few moments later, she smiles brightly and pulls me into a tight hug. Before she can do it with my clueless fiancé as well, I try to warn him.

“She’s going to-”

B-L-I-N-D?! — III

III

As we’re sitting on the couch before dinner, all I can think about is how freaking much I love Robin. What a pretty name, Robin. Not only it sounds great in English, it also kind of matches her sign name. It’s so poetic. Unfortunately, our parents weren’t as creative when ASL-naming us. I might have a girl crush on her—no, I definitely have a crush on her. It’s a strange feeling, considering I’ve never liked any of my brothers’ girlfriends, and I’ll never admit it, but I was a little bitch to them growing up.

But this is the first hearing girl I’ve ever seen any of them date, and better yet—she’s a CODA. I feel a kind of excitement inside of me that I've never felt before. And she’s so pretty. And she talks to Henry. I love her

B-L-I-N-D?! — IV

IV

I didn’t have much sleep last night, if you know what I mean. When I wake up, instead of Henry’s naked chest beside me I find cold sheets. I do a long cat stretch and prepare to join him in the shower. Except that he isn’t in the shower either because there’s no sound of running water. A bell goes off inside my head and I sit up straight, startled by the possibilities. One would think I’m too old to have my brothers pulling tricks on my boyfriends that would have them running for their lives, but it's not entirely out of the realm of possibilities. Then I see him, sitting at the study with his laptop open and a bunch of papers laid before him.

“Hey,” I call him. He doesn’t answer. Only then I realize he’s using two earbuds. He’s slightly crouched forward, with his shirt off. I take the time to appreciate the view.

B-L-I-N-D — Christmas Lights

I.

I’m buying Henry a piano for Christmas. It’ll be our household’s piano, but really, he’s the only one who can play it. I grew up Deaf. Henry grew up prodigious.

Giving him a piano will mean three things: one, that visits to his mother's won’t last nearly as long as they do now—I’m under the impression that the only reason we go there so much is so he can satisfy this urge he has for playing. Second, it looks so pretty and fancy, and even if no one played it, I’d love just having it there for the sake of aesthetics. And last, but not least, Henry looks so sexy playing. Like, crazy sexy. And I have some Pretty Woman-inspired fantasies that simply can’t happen in my mother-in-law’s living room. Usually. Yeah.

B-L-I-N-D?! — christmas lights, part two

CHRISTMAS LIGHTS PART TWO

I pull my cane. Fuck no. The parts have loosened themselves off the elastic that holds the entire thing together. I bend down and pat the snow as my stomach does cartwheels. I remind myself that I need to breathe. I risk keeping my fingers in front of me longer so I can find all the parts. Fuck fuck fuck.

It's broken. It's undeniably broken. I've broken canes before. I've had cars snapping them as I step off the curb to cross the street, I've had a horse step on it. And that's exactly why they exist—so it's not my foot getting ran over by a car or a horse. It doesn't happen often, but it does happen. I'm not pissed at it, I'm pissed at myself for not predicting this, for not preparing better. I used to walk around with an extra cane in my bag, but I've grown too confident and too lazy at the same time. Always have a backup, Linda used to say during our O&M sessions, about a million years ago. But of course I don't have a backup, that's such a beginner move...

And yet, here I am.