Silent Song

by Jaci Wheeler

  “Musical Mondays?”

  “Yeah, she’s a theatre major, so every Monday we watch a different musical. Last Monday was Moulin Rouge, the decorations from that still haunt me.” Christian laughs.

  “Oh man, you really do have all the fun. Well, yeah, then, I’ll have to stop by sometime.”

  “Sounds good, I’m in that one.” I point to the other end of the hall. “If I were you, I’d just go on in now. If they aren’t finished, just pretend you are drunk and stumble into bed.”

  “Oh man, I like the way you think. Yeah, I just might do that, I’m exhausted.”

  “Get some rest then. It was nice stumbling into you, Christian.”

  “Best thing to happen to me all night. Good night, Presley.”

  “Oh, my God, Presley, it’s not even five a.m.! Answer your freaking phone or I will!” I groan and reach for my phone, cringing when I see the clock.

  “Seriously, Mom? There’s a time difference.”

  “Good morning to you too, dear.”

  “A good morning would be if you called in five hours.”

  “I never get a hold of you if I don’t call early.” That’s because I’m too tired to screen my calls this early, but I only groan in reply.

  “Honestly, Presley, your manners are slipping, I see.”

  “Mom, it’s too early to be scolded. I’m guessing you need something?”

  “I can’t just call to talk to my daughter?”

  “You called seven times before five a.m.”

  “Well, now that you mention it, I wanted to confirm that you will be here for the holidays.”

  “I already told you, Mom, I don’t think I can swing it.”

  “Manners, Presley!”

  “Mom, it’s too early for manners, I was up half the night studying. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it this year.”

  “But you must.”

  “Mom.”

  “Presley, this is important to me. I’ve always had my children home for the holidays, and I refuse to have it any other way, even if you’re going through some kind of life crisis.” Leave it to my mother to refer to going after my dream as a “life crisis.”

  “I already told you that I’m spending most of my Thanksgiving break with my students so I can fulfill my fieldwork hours. So, there’s absolutely no way I’ll make it.”

  “So just Christmas then?”

  “I’m not sure, Mom, I’ll try.”

  “That’s not good enough. You know how long I need to plan the decor and that all hinges on how many people will be attending.”

  “Then don’t plan on me, I doubt I can make it.”

  “You’re doing this horrid internship during Thanksgiving and Christmas break? I find that hard to believe, Presley Anne.”

  “No, I’m not interning during Christmas break, at least not the week of, but a close friend of mine lost his brother recently, and it’s his first Christmas without him, so I don’t want him to be alone.”

  “That’s fine, I’ll set an extra place setting.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ll set an extra setting…for your friend. The cook always makes plenty, so it won’t put us out too much.”

  “You want me to bring Barrett home for Christmas?”

  “Well, it’s not exactly my heart’s desire, but if that means you will be here, then I guess this Barrett character will just have to come as well. What’s his last name?”

  “Donovan, but he can’t, Mom. If he leaves, his uncle will be all alone, so he can’t go, and I already planned on cooking for them.”

  “Honestly, Presley, how many people are you expecting me to host?”

  “What? None. I’m not asking to bring them, I’m just telling you why I can’t go.”

  “Fine, he can bring his uncle, but that is all. No more vagabond relatives.”

  “Vagabond? What, Mom wait—”

  “I will see you three in December.”

  “Three? Mom, wait—we need to talk about this. I wasn’t implying—”

  “Sorry, dear, I’ve got to run. It’s almost time for my surgery. Kisses.”

  I look down at my phone and pray I’m just having a nightmare. There’s no way I’m going home for Christmas, and especially not with Barrett and Randy in tow. I convince myself it must all be a bad dream when I hear a snarky “Sucks to be you,” from the other side of the room.

  “Please tell me that didn’t just happen.”

  “Oh, it happened, all right. Based on the one-sided conversation I got, you are having a nice little cozy Christmas with your new not boyfriend and family. If only I could be a fly on the wall for that experience.”

  “I’ll do you one better. You can be there. Take my place and I’ll go to your house.”

  “Not a chance, chica, I love you and all, but your mom freaks me out.”

  “You and me both. Oh, god, what am I going to tell Barrett?”

  “To buy a parka?”

  “My life sucks!”

  CHAPTER 24

  Barrett

  “Okay, Barrett, we are going to remove your splint and cast, and take a new x-ray to see how you’re doing and see if we can remove them for good,” my doctor says. I let out a sigh of relief and the hospital interpreter gives me a warm smile. She’s old enough to be my mother but she’s very warm and comforting, but still professional. I liked her instantly.

  “Head on down to radiology and they’ll get you right in.” We take the elevator two floors down and luckily find that radiology is pretty empty. My interpreter checks me in and in less than ten minutes they call us back.

  The whole time we are waiting, all I can think of is what will happen if I haven’t healed. The doctor removing my cast and splints was such a relief for a single moment I felt like I could breathe again. Then reality came crashing down when I remembered that I might end up right back in them, confined to my silent jail once more. Randy has asked me a few times how I feel about the situation but I’m not one to complain…well, that’s not exactly true. I’m just not one to talk about my feelings, and even if I was, I don’t think I could ever put into words the debilitating fear that captured me when the use of my hands was taken away.

  I follow the technician into the back where I change into a humiliating thin gown. I have no freaking clue why I have to wear this emasculating thing when they are only x-raying my arm. But I do the walk of shame from the dressing room to the other small waiting room in the back where the few patients sit who have all been stripped of their pride, refusing to make eye contact with each other. My interp just smiles warmly and hands me a thin hospital blanket. I take it and smile my thanks. God bless Karen. Jermain would never have let me live this down.

  They call my name and Karen taps me. We follow the technician back into the x-ray room. They tell me how I need to lay and not to move. They will give me thumbs up when it’s done, meaning I can move. They of course make Karen go into the room behind the glass while they take the pictures. The technician comes out and repositions my hand a few times, and then does the same with my arm. Based on the pain, I’m guessing the right hand isn’t ready. It’s not even half as bad as it was the first time, but it still hurts when she moves it, even though she does it gently. When they’re done, they bring Karen back out and she explains that the radiologist sent the results to the doctor, and by the time we get back, he should have the news for us.

  The entire way back I take advantage of my hands. I have no clue when I’ll be able to use them again, so I sign as much as I can with Karen. She’s very easy to talk to, so we talk about everything. Her daughter is in college on a scholarship, and that news gives me a pang of regret. I think about Gallaudet and the offer I turned down. I don’t say anything about myself, but I ask her question after question. It just feels good to have a voice again. By the time we reach the room, my right hand is screaming in pain even though I switched to my non-dominant hand for most of my signing.

  The doctor smiles at us when we enter a
nd motions for us to take a seat.

  “I have your results here and I’m pretty happy with the turn out. Let’s start with the good news, shall we? Your left fingers have healed nicely. There doesn’t seem to be any residual damage, so you’re good to go there. The right is healing nice, but still has a bit to go. It was damaged pretty badly, and even though its healing nicely, it still has a few weeks left. So, I’m going to need to recast that hand, but the splints can stay off the other.”

  I smile and give him a nod. I assumed as much. Even having one hand unfettered is a freedom that helps the vise that has gripped my throat lessen a bit. I will be able to communicate at least…even if it is with my non-dominant hand, it’s something. The doctor recasts my right hand and sends me on my way with a follow up appointment for three weeks.

  I walk in to find Randy placing a lasagna on the kitchen table. His eyes go right to my hands and he smiles big when he sees the left hand free of the splints.

  “What this?”

  “Celebration dinner.” He comes around the table and gives me a big hug.

  “The hand is better, huh? This is awesome, Barrett. I’m so happy for you.” I can’t help but soak up some of his enthusiasm. Even though it’s just who he is, his love always catches me a bit off guard. I’ve never had anyone but my mother, and now of course Presley, cook for me. The idea that he went through the trouble actually chokes me up.

  “Not know you splints off. What happen if not?” Even just one handed it feels so nice to be able to sign again.

  “Then it would have been a that sucks but I made you lasagna to make you happy dinner.” I laugh at his come back and take a seat. He places a large piece on my plate, and even though I’m starving, I don’t do anything but look at him. He’s getting older now. I never really noticed, or more than likely, I never really took the time to really look. He has so much of my mother in him, but he carries her loss deeply. The lines near his eyes have deepened, and I never noticed how much grey streaks his dark hair. He catches my inspection and looks down at my untouched food.

  “Not poisoned. I don’t think, anyway,” he adds and I smile.

  “Thank you. I love you. Hope know you.” His faces softens and he reaches across the table to grab my hand.

  “I know. I love you too, kid.” He lets go and takes a bite of his dinner, then smiles wide.

  “I not really sure that I not ruin it, but man, that is good. Maybe I’ll quit working on cars and become c h e f.” I shake my head but take a bite of my own. It really is good.

  “Not know cook you.”

  “I can’t much. Presley gave me R E C I P E.”

  “Really?” is all I say. I can tell he wants me to expand on that situation, but I don’t. I hurry and finish my food, then take our empty plates to the sink. He tries to stop me but I stand my ground.

  “Go sit. Long time since can help me. Cook you. Clean me. Want. Really.” Randy goes to his chair and turns on the TV and I take my time with the dishes. It’s a bit of a challenge one handed, but when I finally finish, it’s ridiculous how accomplished I feel. Just doing that one small task has me feeling just a little more whole. I feel good enough to text my best friend, A.J. I’ve been a crappy friend to him lately. Even though I know he understands, it’s still not right that I’ve ignored him. I send him a quick message. Now that I’ve gotten all my fingers back on one hand, it’s much faster.

  Barrett: Hey man. Sorry long time. Want meet up?

  A.J.: Always. Pick up in ten.

  I smile at his response. I should have texted him sooner, but there’s just something about pain and misery that makes you isolate yourself. He’s the one guy that wouldn’t care, that would still be there for me no matter what. Yet he’s the one pushed away the most. I didn’t want understanding, I needed to feel the pain, so I shut him out. A.J., Casen, and I have been friends since 6th grade. Jermain refers to us as the three amigos. That reminds me.

  Barrett: Just you. No call Casen. Want chill tonight.

  A.J.: No worries, bro. On my way.

  I love Casen, but he can be a bit much. Out of the three of us, he is the most vocal. He’s done most of our talking since he got his cochlear in the 5th grade and we were happy to let him. He’s a cool dude, but doesn’t take life too seriously. He always jokes around, which is appreciated most of the time. But there are times in life like now where I just need things to be chill, and that’s one thing Casen doesn’t know how to do. A.J., on the other hand, has always been a bit more reserved. Casen nicknamed him the professor. He’s wicked smart. Always has his nose in a book. Even though he was deaf from birth and has only ever spoken ASL, his English is the best of the three of us. He’s not verbal, but he writes the best. He says it’s because even though ASL was his first language, reading was his first love. He’s poetic like that. Casen never let him live that down either, and switches back and forth between calling him The Professor and Shakespeare.

  His mother is an English professor and his dad is a lawyer. They are awesome people. Even though they both work a lot, they’ve always made time for him, and us by default. A.J. is an only child and his parents sign fluently. His mother is actually a certified interpreter even though she doesn’t do much with it. As A.J. puts it, his mom never does anything half way, if she was going to sign, she was going to be the best at it so she took the classes at night, studied, and got her certification. She says this way if she ever gets a deaf student, they won’t need an interpreter for her class. She’s awesome. Not many parents sign, actually. It’s weird. You either have the ones who dive in right away and most of the family signs, or you have parents like my dad who don’t really have time for it and kind of have home signs, do charades, or expect their kid to lip read.

  I grab my jacket and tell Randy that I’m going out with A.J. When his face lights up at the news, I feel another stab of regret. He worries about me, and I’m not really sure what to do with that. I step outside just as A.J. pulls up in his white Honda Accord and I jump in. He smiles at me, but doesn’t say much as he drives. There’s a park we’ve always liked to go to. We played catch there when we were younger, picked up girls there the older we got, but now we just go and chill.

  When we get out, he comes around and give me a one-armed hug and pat on the back.

  “Miss you, man.”

  “Same. Sorry silent me. Should texted me. Not know what say.”

  “No, no. Sorry not. Understand me. Hard time you. Need alone you. Understand.” We take a seat on a park bench nearby. “C O D I” He finger spells and my throat tightens up once again. He puts his fist over his heart and the tears in his eyes bring a flood to mine. This right here is exactly why I haven’t called my best friend. He knows more than anyone the pain I’m feeling right now because he’s feeling it, too. Codi was like a little brother to him also. I copy his motion with my left hand. We don’t say anything for a while, just sit there. This is why I texted A.J. He can just sit and connect in silence. Casen has never understood the art, and we love him for it, but times like these make me appreciate that silent strength in A.J. all the more.

  “What’s up? Catch up me.”

  “I don’t know. Life…mixed up and I don’t know where will land.” A.J. just nods in understanding.

  “C brother. me. Without C, who me? Don’t know.”

  “Understand. Maybe now time you find out. No Dad, no brother care for…maybe now time care for yourself. Find what makes happy.” I shake my head even though I’m taking in everything he’s saying.

  “Don’t think can me.”

  “Can you.”

  “Know how you?”

  “Because know you. Hard? Yes. Become caretaker, provider, worry about C future, Dad future…but your future? Not. Now time worry about your future. What need you. What want you. C O D I gone tragic. Rip heart out. Maybe can find good in tragedy. Find your good, B.”

  I sit there for a while and just absorb everything he says. He isn’t wrong, but his words still hurt. It’s t
rue that I’ve never really put myself first, but that’s just the way things were. I’ve never blamed Codi for that or resented him. He was never anything but a blessing to me. But A.J. is right. With Codi gone, I’m no longer stuck in Stockton worrying about how we are going to make ends meet. My dad took off, so there’s another person I no longer have to provide for. So really there’s nothing keeping me in Stockton any longer, nothing keeping me from finding what I want to do in life…but am I lying to myself? Is there someone? The small nagging voice in the back of my head says there is.

  “I met girl,” I blurt out and A.J. doesn’t even hide his shock.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go our school?”

  “No…college. UOP.”

  “College girl?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Met where?”

  “Street race. Start hanging out little. After C…girl help me. Took care me.” I hesitate a minute and A.J. picks up on that.

  “Push her away you?” I hate that he knows me so well.

  “Don’t know what do.”

  “Like her you?”

  “Yes, but not easy. Complicated.”

  “Complicated not always mean bad. Sometimes complicated mean good can. Girl name what?” I smile just thinking about her.

  “P R E S L E Y,” I spell out. “Hearing,” I add. A look of understanding flashes across his face. We’ve never really said outright that we didn’t want a hearing girl, but we have said that we didn’t think we’d be able to connect to a hearing girl like we could a deaf girl. Casen has never cared. Hearing, deaf…he just loves women of all types. A.J. and I have always been a bit more reserved with our opinions, and our affections. A.J. has only ever dated deaf girls. He’s been with Gabby for two years now and I’m pretty sure she’s the girl he’s going to marry. Sure, I’ve hooked up with hearing girls, but I’ve never really been serious with anyone.

  “Never date hearing girl me. Not because don’t want hearing girl. All girls I like happen deaf. If I like hearing girl, would date.” He states this like it’s the most simple concept in the world.