by Jaci Wheeler
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
Epilogue
Silent Song
Jaci Wheeler
Silent Song
Copyright © 2017 Jaci Wheeler
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address Books & Bow Ties Publishing, 4844 E. Michigan st., Orlando, FL. 32812 https://booksbowties.com/
Silent Song/Jaci Wheeler—1st ed. Printed in the United States of America.
October 2017
Published by Books & Bow Ties Publishing
Orlando, FL.
Cover design by The Illustrated Author Design Services
Cover Models: Brynn Keller and Jake Haas
Cover Photo: Will Bucquoy
Praise For
Silent Song
“Silent Song is an unforgettable tale of two vastly different people that will squeeze your heart then fill it with the incredible beauty of friendship, family, love and deep understanding.”
-Ceej’s Life Reads
“The way the author wrote Barret’s character and how she throws us into his world, is quite unique. It’s unlike anything I have read before. If you’re looking for a sweet romance with a strong storyline, give this a try!”
-J.L Drake, Contemporary Romance Author
Acknowledgments
There are so many people that are responsible for this book happening. To my husband Joey and best friend Bek, who supports everything I do. Thank you for encouraging me to find my voice, even though it was super hard.
There’s no way this book would have happened without Layla and Zach’s support, thank you so much you guys! Layla literally does ALL of the things and without her I’d be an even hotter mess than I am.
Toni at Rakestraw Book designs, you are a gem and the reason I was able to go through with my vision. Thank you for all your hard work, and knowledge. It’s hard enough to edit one language let alone two, and a visualize at that! Total Rock star!
Jodi Drake…I don’t even know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem like enough. You encouraged me when I needed it, pushed me when I didn’t want to continue and then beta read for me even though you had your own books to write. Thank you for making me publish this even though I was terrified.
John Barnett and my Uncle Tony, thank you both for your drag racing knowledge. John, thanks for letting me bug you at random times with my lame questions, and to your amazing wife Joy, thanks for getting me in touch with him.
Nicole, Katie and Cindy. You girls are my core team! Thank you so much for your feedback, honestly and your eagle eyes! I couldn’t have pulled this off without you.
Ceej, thanks so much for stepping in at the final hour and picking up some random authors work in a genre you don’t even read.
Brynn and Jake “thank you” just doesn’t seem enough. They stepped up in a huge way and were the best models anyone could ask for! They also might be the cutest couple on the planet.
Karen and Kathryn, my fantastic sign language interpreters. You ladies aren’t just my ears and voice at times but my very dear friends. Thank you for blessing me with your skill and talents.
The very sweet Jocelyn and Delainey from UOP. Thanks for showing me around and answering my million questions, you guys are the best!
My parents, thank you for seeing me through the hardest times in my life. For holding me when I felt broken, and pushing me when I needed to move on.
Lastly, to my friends in the Deaf community. Thank you for embracing me and making me one of you. For helping me fit in and helping me improve my signing skills.
In memory of Austin Lundberg and Brittany Davis.
Two amazing members of the deaf community who had a huge impact on my life and were taken from this earth much too soon.
You are missed.
Letter to the readers
In October 2002 I was sitting in my 12th grade English class when the world went silent. I locked myself away for a full year, bitter and angry at the world. I was tested and medicated for two years. I regained a good percentage back, and with hearing aids I was able to talk on the phone, communicate freely with others, and learn sign language. Once I stopped the medicine, within a year I lost most of my hearing once again. I have some sound, but will never be able to talk on the phone without a captioned device. I’ll never be able to hear my kids laugh or listen to a song on the radio that I don’t already know. I’m blessed because I still have some sound in one ear. I can’t hear word definition, but that little bit of sound goes a long way. I hear like I’m underwater. It’s garbled and confused and I need to read lips to fully understand.
I’ve written five fiction books now, Dystopian and Suspense. I love creating places where I can imagine another world. Somewhere that is free from memories or past pains. I like to create something from nothing. Writing for me has always been an escape from reality. It’s where I go when my world gets to be too much. For the past two years, I’ve had this book in the back of my head mocking me and begging to be set free. I’ve ignored it and continued to create imagined worlds because when I’m behind a computer I’m someone new. I wanted to keep my two worlds apart because if someone rejects one of my books it’s just rejecting something I’ve made up. But if I wrote about anything personal it would be as if they were rejecting me, my feelings and my experiences.
The Deaf community is so large and so different. Not all Deaf people can read lips. Some hear only low decibels, or high, or absolutely nothing at all. The spectrum is wide and hearing is very intricate, and isn’t just a you can or can’t type of thing. I would never be able to do the Deaf community justice if I tried to portray how they feel. You could take ten deaf people and you would get ten different stories and experiences. Deaf people use ASL, it is a language. It is not English. ASL has its own rules and grammar. Many Deaf people struggle with writing because they are using a language which they don’t speak. I went back and forth on if I should write in ASL or not. I knew it could confuse some people and maybe make the book harder to read, but in the end I went with my gut, which is to portray Deafness to the fullest and show the hearing world our daily struggles. One of the biggest struggles is that a lot of hearing people assume that writing shouldn’t be an issue just because you can’t hear. So, in the book anytime a word is in italics, that means they are signing and that it’s written in ASL, NOT ENGLISH. When someone is talk/signing, the italicized words are the ones that Barrett can understand. Many times, deaf people can only pick out a few words and they have to guess what is being said based on those. It might be a struggle to foll
ow at times, but please try and stick with it. It will give you an idea of how hard it is for a deaf person to switch back and forth from ASL to English. We are expected to do so on a daily basis without pause, so this is just a taste of that.
In my book, you will see some of the challenges Barrett has to go through. Some of these things have happened to me or people I know. This is no way speaking for all Deaf people, it is still fiction. But a lot of his fears and realities have also been mine. I’m not speaking for the Deaf community, but to them. I have felt loneliness to the core in the middle of a crowded room. I’ve felt utterly helpless in an emergent situation. I know what it feels like to be looked down upon and judged for something out of your control. I also know what it’s like to rise above and push myself to the breaking point.
To the Deaf community: I hope I can help your voice to be heard. You aren’t alone. Thank you for embracing me and being my second family.
Again, this is just one girl’s opinion and experience. But remember before judging someone that everyone has a story and not everyone can share, so love before you judge. I hope you enjoy the Silent Song.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
Epilogue
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
Barrett
I take a deep breath and relax slowly. As I breathe out, I come into myself. In this instant I can just be myself. I’m not the stupid son, failing student, or strange deaf boy who talks funny. Right now I’m just Barrett, another eighteen-year-old guy.
Being in the darkness is actually a pretty big fear of mine. Not because I’m scared of the boogie man or anything, if only it were that simple. Being in the darkness always leaves me vulnerable and at a disadvantage, and I learned at a young age that’s never anything I want to be.
If I can’t see, I can’t hear. Right now though, I’m the one with the advantage now that my eyes have adjusted to the minimal light in the room. The music is blaring, and the bodies are moving, and for once I’m not the only one missing out. People are yelling into their friend’s ears. I’ve made out so many people who are yelling “what?” and “I can’t hear you” that it makes me laugh. Welcome to my reality.
A lot of people assume that deaf people can’t dance. Sure, we can’t hear the music, but we can feel the beat of it down to our core. I’ve always loved to dance. I make up a melody and words that are all my own. I let the beat carry my movements, speak to my soul. The dancing may be for the others, but the song is all my own.
I close my eyes and let the rhythm take me. I ignore whatever girl is gyrating in front of me and let my natural movement take control. I dance with one girl after the next welcoming the sense of normalcy. That is until one of them forgets and leans back to whisper something in my ear. It’s usually something seductive or a joke of some kind, so I just smile and nod and they are none the wiser. They know I can’t hear them of course, but for this moment in time they forget, and I let us both have the illusion, just for a moment.
But just like anything else that’s too good to last, it ends much too soon. The lights come on, and the music dies along with my illusions.
“Food want you?” Codi signs to me.
“Tired me. Eat you. Home me.” I sign back to him.
My brother is a cool kid, but he’s just that—a kid. My dad put him in the position of being my interpreter at too young of an age. When we were kids, it was like a secret game between just us. But as we got older, he just slid into the role. Having him around meant our dad didn’t need to learn, so he’s always just relied on Codi to speak to and for me. It’s not as depressing as it sounds. As Codi puts it, I’m lucky I don’t have to hear anything our dad has to say…or slur.
“Fun you. Home late not.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Codi mouths and smiles before he runs to catch up with his friend Brian. Codi has always been my best friend, but he needs to start hanging out with kids his own age. At the end of the year I graduate, and he still has three more years left. The idea of graduation looming just ahead instantly knots my stomach. There’s no way I can leave Codi, yet the idea of staying here and working in my uncle’s garage for the rest of my life makes the knot even tighter. I push those thoughts to the back of my mind for now as I head to my car. I run my hand slowly down the side of my beautiful 1969 Ford Fairlane. I can’t help the pride I feel every time I see her. My uncle let me fix her up in his shop and work off the cost of the parts. It took me three years, but she runs smooth, and her black paint glistens in the sun.
I slide in and put my key into the ignition, feeling the engine come to life. This is my favorite part. I let the vibrations move from my foot up my leg and tingle in my spine. There’s nothing like the vibrations you get from a smooth running older car. I come alive behind the wheel. I can feel every acceleration, brake, dip, and bump in the road. Sound isn’t needed or wanted. Speed. All I need is an open road and speed and I am at home.
It is exactly three miles from the school to our trailer park, but I take the back way as usual. It gives me an extra seven minutes to roll the windows down and feel the wind attack my face as I eat up the road. I hug each curve, not bothering to slow down. I know these roads, and they know me. When I’m alone I can drive full out. I won’t take any chance with Codi or anyone else in the car, but this is something I’ve been doing since my mom died. The first time I got behind the wheel after the cancer took her, something in me broke. I didn’t care if I lived or died, and I was reckless to be honest, but years of drag racing instilled a certain amount of discipline and control. I found myself transforming behind the wheel. I shed the insecure and lonely boy for the confident man who has control over his surroundings for once in his life. I let the elements take over and surge in my blood. The wind caressed my face, the motor embedded me in its tingly embrace. It unlocked a part of me that I thought died with her.
So now when I’m alone and can’t be at the track, that’s what I do. I take the long way home and allow all my problems to fly right out the open window. Hearing people seek quiet to sort through their thoughts. I seek stillness. The irony isn’t lost on me that my stillness comes with speed. I need at least eighty miles per hour to find the stillness of mind I crave. Behind the wheel, I’m not unloved or unwanted. I’m not a high schooler raising his little brother and providing for his worthless father. Behind the wheel, I am free. Behind the wheel, I find my sanity. Now if only I could find my purpose.
I pull up to the trailer and see my father isn’t alone. I can’t handle this, not tonight, so I don’t even bother to get out. I could text A.J., but he’s with his girl tonight, so I don’t want to bother them. I look down at the dash to check the time and see that I have enough time to make it to the grocery store and do some shopping for the week before it closes. I prefer to shop without Codi there anyway, because I can never hide the panic I feel having to shop on such a small budget, so this works out. I flip my car around and head back the way I came.
&nbs
p; The high of my drive is quickly replaced by reality when I look into my wallet and all that stares back at me is seventeen dollars. I sigh, mentally calculating how I can make this stretch an entire week. I get out of my car and grab a basket on my way in. I go right to the bread aisle and grab two of the cheapest loaves of wheat bread they have. I’m so tempted as I walk by the soup aisle, but I ignore the ramen. I could get several meals for just a few dollars, but it’s football season and Codi needs as much as he can get, so I ignore the wax-coated noodles that scream my name and grab a jar of peanut butter to accompany the bread. Next come the eggs. I wince at the cost, but I ignore it and add two dozen to my basket. On the way out, I grab a bag of potatoes and head toward the checkout stand. Looking down at the dollar and few coins I have left over, I walk next door and buy a Taco Bell dollar and stash it away in my wallet. I used to get odd looks when I would buy the fast food vouchers. I doubt they sell one dollar vouchers to anyone but me, but now they’re used to it. Every week I save my last dollar and get at least one voucher. If I’ve had a good race, I’ll get a few more. Running out of food has always been a fear of mine. We’ve always gotten by, but having them sets my mind at ease. An emergency food back up that doesn’t go bad. I give them to Codi when he’s going out so he doesn’t miss out on anything. I give them to the homeless I see hungry on the street. I’ve never used one yet for myself, but just knowing I could eases some of the stress that coils in me. Now it’s time to head home to check the street racing board, I desperately need a race next week. There’s driving for freedom, and driving for survival, lucky for me I get to do both.
CHAPTER 2
Presley
I pull into the student lot and take a deep breath. I can’t help the pride I feel as I take a moment to enjoy it before the only emotion I feel becomes fear. I did it. I actually did it; I defied my parents and drove 2,974 miles all alone. I don’t think I slept the first two nights, mostly out of fear since I’ve never traveled by myself, but the fear was worth it, because I’m here. It was mostly rundown industrial on the way here, but the old part of town is beautiful, the buildings are historical, and could be gorgeous with a little TLC. I drive into a very full lot, but finally find a parking space and I thank the Lord above that the campus seems nice and compact. I open my door and smell freedom…and wrinkle my nose because freedom doesn’t smell as good as Hartford. That doesn’t matter though, because it will all be worth it. It has to be.