by Tiffany King
“Other than hitting yourself?” he asked, smirking at me. “Are you ready for me to smoke you at checkers?”
My cheeks warmed again and I was glad he couldn’t see it. I had blushed more in the last hour than I think I ever had. “Um, I’ve never played, so that shouldn’t be hard.”
He didn’t tease me after that comment. I kind of wished he hadn’t figured out who I was. It was nice, even for a brief moment, to have a conversation with someone who didn’t know all the sordid details of my past. At least I knew he couldn’t see the images they showed on the news.
As he explained the rules of the game I wondered how he could tell the difference between the pieces until I noticed that the red pieces had a crown etched on them while the black pieces had a sword. The rules were simple enough and before I knew it I was playing my first-ever game of checkers.
“So, did I convert you into a Reese’s fan?” he asked, jumping three of my pieces and setting them to the side. He used his hands to feel around the board after each one of my moves. I looked at the board incredulously, wondering how I’d made such a bad move that allowed him to jump me so many times.
“It was delicious. I didn’t know chocolate and peanut butter tasted so good together.”
“They’re definitely my favorite. Wait until you try them in ice cream.”
I shifted in my seat, fiddling with one of my pieces on the board. “I’ve never had ice cream either, or maybe I have and I just don’t remember it,” I said, sighing. There was so much I didn’t know. How was I ever going to function as a regular person?
Gunner didn’t comment at how weird that was. His eyes didn’t fill with tears like Mom’s had when I accidentally let something slip. He also didn’t press me about how it made me feel like Dr. Marshall would have. Gunner just nodded like it was perfectly normal.
We spent an hour together, stumbling through two games of checkers, which I lost horrifically, and a conversation that ran into multiple stumbling blocks. Gunner gave me a crash course on music by playing songs he had stored on his phone. I scooted closer, amazed at the number of songs the phone held. If I had one I would never need a cassette player ever again.
We were just starting our third game of checkers when Mom swept into the room looking stressed out and panicked.
“Mia,” she gasped, pulling me in tightly for a hug. “You weren’t in your room.” Her voice struggled coming out of her throat.
“Uh, is that not okay?” I asked, bracing myself for a punishment. I kept my eyes averted from Gunner. Whatever was about to happen, I wished he weren’t around to hear it.
Mom sniffled, pulling back from our hug. “Of course you can leave your room,” she said, flashing me a watery smile. “I was just worried when I didn’t find you there, that’s all.”
Gunner sat in his chair, looking expectantly in the direction of Mom’s voice. I blushed again, forgetting that introductions were socially expected.
“Mom, this is my friend, Gunner. Gunner, this is Mom,” I said, feeling awkward that I had goofed the introduction by not using her name.
“Pleasure,” Gunner answered. “Don’t worry, by the way. The worst thing that happened here was that your daughter got her butt kicked at checkers. Oh, and we discovered she’s addicted to Reese’s cups,” he continued, smiling.
I could see it on Mom’s face the instant she realized Gunner was blind. I recognized the look. It was the same pitiful expression I’d received countless times myself in the last few days. I thought about how much it must have sucked for him to put up with it constantly until I reminded myself he couldn’t see. He had the perfect shield.
If Gunner could sense how Mom was looking at him he gave no indication. I envied his ease. Even without sight he didn’t have an ounce of my social awkwardness. I could only hope that one day I would be able to fit in.
“Yes, well, we really need to get going,” Mom answered, nodding toward the door like we were trying to keep my exit a secret from the poor blind kid. “You have an appointment with the nutritionist in fifteen minutes.”
I reluctantly rose to my feet. “See you later, I guess,” I said to Gunner. I wasn’t sure if I should reach out to shake his hand.
“Definitely. We’ll pick up the game another time,” Gunner told me, flashing another one of his wide grins. “Hey, tell the nutritionist the only thing you want to eat is peanut butter cups. It’ll be funny to mess with her.”
The corners of my mouth rose into a smile and a warm feeling spread throughout my chest. It took me a moment to recognize the foreign emotion. I was happy. It wasn’t the short bouts of pleasure I would get when I knew I had done something to please Judy. This was legitimate happiness. Gunner genuinely seemed to like me. For a small slice of time he made me forget that I was a circus sideshow attraction.
“Did you eat breakfast?” Mom asked, tucking my arm through hers as we strolled down the hall.
I nodded, feeling the ease of a few minutes prior leaking away. Things were harder with my family. Every time I opened my mouth I felt like I was spouting something that would make one of them flinch or clench their fists in anger. It was easier to keep my mouth closed.
“I talked to your doctors this morning and they all came to the agreement that you can be released next week,” Mom chattered on. “Your weight is still an issue, but our meeting with the nutritionist should get us headed in the right direction. The rest of your injuries are healing as well and soon all this will be a distant memory,” she added in a voice that sounded forcefully cheerful. I caught her glancing at my neck briefly as she steered me into my room.
My fingers moved to my neck. I knew I wouldn’t feel the bruises, but the faint yellow discoloration was a reminder of what had happened. The marks were a flashing sign of Judy’s anger and one of the reasons I couldn’t look in the mirror. They were the first thing everyone seemed to look at upon meeting me, but painted a picture they didn’t understand. Everyone assumed Judy’s attack on me was unprovoked, but they had no idea about the part I had played in it. Dr. Marshall kept insisting I was the victim. I wondered what she would say if she knew the truth. Would she still think I was the victim if she knew all the times I’d been a bad girl?
True to his promise, Gunner came to my room after my family left later that evening. He was carrying the checkers game in one hand and his walking stick in the other. “Up for another game?” he asked, standing in my doorway.
“Yes,” I answered happily. His timing was impeccable. My visit with my family had been trying and left me on edge.
Gunner made his way effortlessly to my bed. He was able to navigate my room like it was his own. I was tempted to ask him how long he’d been blind, but felt it would be rude. I had already alienated my share of people this evening. There was no reason to push my luck.
“How’d your appointment with the nutritionist go? Did you tell her about the peanut butter cups?” he asked, climbing up on the foot of my bed and folding his walking stick.
I folded my legs to give him room and pulled the wheeled table between us for the checkerboard. “It was fine, except that the joke didn’t go as planned. Everyone walks around on eggshells so much with me that when I told her all I wanted to eat was peanut butter cups she didn’t know what to say. It’s like no one wants to take the chance of upsetting me. When I told her I was kidding, she didn’t laugh. She weighed me and then gave my mom a high-calorie diet for me to follow.”
He chuckled, opening the checkers box. “You could definitely use that to your advantage.”
“Really?” I asked, setting up my pieces.
“Oh yeah. Tell your mom you want a pony or something crazy like that.”
We laughed together. I loved how well Gunner and I were getting along. I had been so afraid that I would never be able to make friends.
“And as far as the high-calorie diet, you’re seriously lucky there. Every girl I’ve ever known complains about their waistlines. I once dated a girl who literally lived off cele
ry and five cheese cubes a day. I once offered her a single bite of my cheeseburger and you would have thought I pushed her into a vat of chocolate. Needless to say, we weren’t right for each other.”
I digested his words, but my knowledge on the subject was limited. Judy always kept me on a strict diet, but clearly that was for her own purposes. I couldn’t imagine deliberately depriving yourself of something if you had a choice.
“How did you two even get together?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t getting too personal.
“I don’t know. I think I was her charity case for the semester,” he said, grinning.
My tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of my mouth. Did people do that? Unsure of how to answer, I scooted back into my shell.
Gunner wouldn’t allow me to retreat though. He moved to a different subject before I could even begin to feel awkward.
“Well, it’s good you’re not watching your weight. I’ve arranged for a little surprise. It should be here any minute.”
“You got me a s-s-surprise?” I stuttered out. For me, surprises only came twice a year, once for Christmas and once for my birthday, and only if I was good. My voice shook with emotion.
“Sure. It’s no big deal though,” he said. “I just sent a nurse on a little errand. Ah. I think I hear her footsteps now.”
I quirked my head to the side, trying to see what he was talking about. Only when someone stopped in my doorway did I finally hear the clicking of her shoes on the hard flooring. I spotted a woman who looked noticeably older than Mom. Her hair was completely gray and pulled up into a tight knot on her head. She had a wide smile on her face and seemed to be full of energy judging by how quickly she was moving.
“I got your order, but you better eat quickly before they melt.” She sat the small brown bag on the table and then turned on her heel to leave. “I gotta go check on Mr. Schultz. He’s demanding my attention. Don’t make yourself sick now.”
Gunner didn’t seem concerned as he handed me a cold container.
I pried the lid off my container and dug my plastic spoon into the ice cream. Even though he couldn’t see me, I noticed that Gunner paused while I brought a spoonful of the ice cream up to my lips.
I was unprepared for the taste sensation that exploded in my mouth. Ice cream lived up to its name. It was rich and creamy and literally melted in my mouth. Maybe now I had a new favorite treat.
“Oh, wow,” I proclaimed, shoving another spoonful in my mouth.
Gunner laughed, digging into his own container. “It’s Chocolate Lovers’. It’s one of my weaknesses. I guarantee if you eat enough it’ll put some pounds on you.”
I would have agreed with him but I was too busy shoveling spoonfuls of ice cream into my mouth.
“Stick with me, kid, and I’ll have you trying so many new things your head’ll spin.” He grinned at me, taking an oversize bite of his ice cream. “Hey, did I get any on me?” he asked, looking at me as melted ice cream drizzled from the corners of his mouth and down his chin.
I couldn’t help but smile as a warm feeling of joy coursed through my veins. I liked Gunner. A lot. “Gross.” I laughed, trying to keep my own bite of ice cream from running out of my mouth.
“What? You’re the one who dripped on your shirt,” Gunner said, pointing toward my arm.
“Where?” I asked, turning my arm over to inspect my sleeve. “I don’t see anything.”
“Right there,” he answered just as a glob of ice cream landed on my chest. I looked up to see Gunner holding an empty spoon. “Oops, did I do that?” he asked with a devilish grin on his face.
I felt more shocked than anything and unsure of how to react. Mother used to punish me severely if I ever spilled food. Not that Gunner would have known that. It wasn’t his fault that she was so strict. I watched as he dug into his ice cream container again, holding up a large spoonful as it melted down his arm. “You better not,” I said, idly threatening him.
“Yeah? What are you gonna do?” He tossed the ice cream at me again and it landed in a small pile on my lap. We both launched into a fit of laughter and I joined him as we began pelting each other with spoonfuls of ice cream until the containers were empty. We made an absolute mess of my room, but I didn’t care. I had never had so much fun in my life. Not that I had ever had any friends, but Gunner was already the coolest person I had ever met.
The following day he showed up in my room with his hands full, trying to juggle his walking stick and whatever it was he was carrying. He searched for the edge of the door with his foot and covertly closed it behind him as he entered.
I held my breath and stood apprehensively from my bed. Since I arrived at the hospital, I insisted on keeping the door open at least a crack at all times. Having it closed reminded me too much of the basement prison I had escaped from. My eyes locked on the door. I was torn and fighting back the shriek that burned in my throat, but the last thing I wanted to do was drive my new friend away.
“What’s up? I’ve got another surprise for you, but figured you’d prefer the door closed for this,” Gunner said intuitively.
Curiosity got the better of me as my eyes moved reluctantly from the closed door.
“Okay, so actually, I’m the one who prefers the door closed,” he said wryly when I didn’t respond. He dropped his walking stick to the side and placed the items in his hands on the small, round table. “What we’re about to do may not be fit for the eyes of others.”
“Really?” I squeaked out like a mouse, wondering what exactly he had in mind.
“Trust me,” he said, fiddling with the stuff on the table.
I watched curiously from my chair as he placed his cell phone into what looked like a small cassette player. Within a few seconds my room was filled with a steady, methodic beat. I smiled. I hated to break it to Gunner, but we had covered music the day before.
He stood in the empty space in the middle of the room and began jerking spastically with his arms and legs like he was having a seizure. For a moment I almost panicked and considered reaching for the call button on the side of my bed. Gunner’s spastic motions stopped and he began twirling slowly with his arms outstretched. Giggling slightly, I realized how stupid I was because he was just dancing, although it wasn’t like anything I had ever seen on television.
“Do I hear you laughing at my moves?” Gunner asked, gasping slightly as a fine sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. I shook my head without answering. I had no idea how to break it to him that whatever I had just witnessed didn’t look like dancing.
I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle a chuckle, but it was too late. Laughter escaped between my fingers and filled the room. “I don’t think that was dancing,” I spit out between giggles.
“I’m hurt,” he gasped, clutching his chest. “I’ve got mad skills, girl.”
“You definitely looked mad.”
“Wow. Big talk. Let’s see you do better.”
I shook my head. “I can’t,” I answered. I may have laughed at him, but truthfully, I had no earthly idea how to dance.
“Sure you can. That’s the beauty of dancing. Anyone can do it. Some bad, some good, but it doesn’t matter,” he teased, holding out a hand. “It’s all about letting the music talk to your body.”
I dug my heels into the floor. “Gunner, I can’t,” I whispered.
He stepped toward me, closing the distance between us. “You can do this, Mia. I know it.”
“What do you mean? How do you know?”
“The way you responded yesterday. I know a fellow music lover when I’m around one. It talks to your soul. Now it’s time to let it talk to your body,” he said, pulling me to my feet. “And at least you know I won’t laugh at you,” he said, pointing to his dark glasses.
“I’m sorry I laughed at you,” I said as a new song swelled through my room.
“I’m not. You have the prettiest laugh I’ve ever heard. Even if it was at my expense. Now, stop stalling.”
He released my hand a
nd stepped back, leaving me in the middle of the room. For a moment I felt vulnerable, but slowly my body began to respond to the subtle beat of the music. My feet stepped back and forth and my arms swung from side to side as my body swayed along. I know it was silly, but I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see Gunner looking like he was watching me. With my eyes closed I felt free as the music took over my body.
I danced through one song and then another and another one after that. Eventually, I opened my eyes and Gunner joined me. We held hands, dancing together with abandon—dancing until we had nothing left to give.
22
“DO KIDS our age really act like that?” I asked Jacob, who was watching the television show I’d turned on.
We were both lying on my bed while Mom sat on one of the chairs crocheting. I had been in the hospital officially three weeks. My new life was slowly beginning to shape into a routine. I woke up, had my daily session with Dr. Marshall, and then spent the rest of the morning with Mom. After she and I ate lunch, Gunner would usually find me and he and I would spend the rest of the day together while Mom ran errands and got out of the hospital for a little while. Evenings were spent with my family as we continued trying to get to know one another.
Jacob laughed. “Hell no. Sorry, Mom,” he added when she looked up sternly from her crocheting. “School is boring compared to all the drama on this show. Plus, none of the chicks at school are anywhere near as hot. Everyone on this show is a freaking model.”
Mom chastised him again, but I was too busy gnawing on my lip to respond. A part of me was relieved that school wouldn’t be as confusing as it appeared on the show. Jacob’s declaration still didn’t help the anxiety I felt about starting school. Mom had announced earlier after my daily session with Dr. Marshall that she had stopped at the school and finished my enrollment. I spent two days taking proficiency tests that would determine exactly what I knew. I got the impression that everyone was skeptical about what kind of education I could have received while locked in a basement for ten years. It made sense, I guess. As far as they were concerned, Judy was a monster who treated me like a prisoner. They had no way of knowing what an emphasis she put on education. The proficiency tests Mom had me take for school were all easy in comparison. If I knew they would lead to me being thrown into school so soon, I would have dragged my feet in taking them or flunked them on purpose.