Different Kind of Beauty

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Different Kind of Beauty Page 3

by Sylvia McNicoll


  “Hey, you’re taking this exercise thing too seriously,” I told her.

  Finally we sat down on a large, flat rock near the brook, which gurgled over some rocks. I swung my arm around Maddie and we just relaxed, listening to the world around us. That was all good too. Then I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me. “You know, without you, I don’t think I could stand my life.”

  “Don’t say that,” she whispered. Embarrassed? Shy? I couldn’t understand the tone of her voice, so I simply leaned toward her to kiss her again. She moved away and cleared her throat. “Kyle, I’m sorry…I just can’t do this anymore. I know it’s your birthday, but I have something I really need to tell you… And I don’t want you to think this is about you going blind…. ”

  That’s when I finally clued in to why she had to walk so far and hard. It was like someone had stabbed a scalding hot French fry into my heart.

  “You were always in the hospital and I, well, I’ll never stop loving you….”

  At that moment, I inhaled so sharply I began choking on the dry air.

  “…But I only love you as a friend.”

  “Stop,” I gasped between coughs. “Madison, stop.” I turned toward her. “Don’t!” I said, as she brushed my cheek with her hand.

  The last thing I wanted was Maddie’s pity. I breathed in more slowly and let the breath out shakily. “Could you do me one favor?” I whispered.

  “What, Kyle?”

  “Could you just get up and go?”

  “Kyle?”

  “Please. I have my cell phone.”

  “But do you know where you are?”

  I nodded and felt her brush away from me.

  “See you at school, then?” she pleaded.

  Well, you’ll see me, I thought bitterly. But I didn’t trust my voice to say anything more.

  “Good-bye, Kyle.”

  I waved her away. I couldn’t watch her hips sway or her hair bounce on her shoulders. I couldn’t catch glimpses of her walking away even from the sides of my eyes, the way I used to do before the last surgery. I would never see Maddie again.

  Out there in the world of bright light and happiness, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. From the top of the hill I heard a dog barking and then a girl’s laughter ringing like bells. The laughter turned into shouts of exhilaration that seemed to be coming closer. Such joy— had I ever felt that?

  I swallowed hard and squeezed what was left of my eyes hard together. For a moment I flashed back to my last sunset at Waikiki. Never, ever again, I thought. I felt like yelling and crying, but who knew where Maddie was? I didn’t want her to catch me.

  Then suddenly I heard a muffled thump and a cry of pain. “Ohh! Ouch! Owww!”

  Yes, that’s how I feel. Was I imagining it?

  Now I heard a girl crying softly somewhere near the path. She sounded like she was in physical pain. I wanted her to keep crying, to cry for me. I loved her quiet sobbing. It was the most beautiful sound in the world at that moment.

  “Are you all right?” I tried to call. But it came out in a hoarse whisper. And then I heard loud barking. A dog panted hot and smelly breath into my face. RAWF! I pushed a wet muzzle away from me, nervously, hoping the dog’s teeth wouldn’t sink into my hand.

  “Go away. Go get someone else. I can’t even help myself.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Elizabeth and Beauty

  The First Day of High School

  Every part of my body hurt—I could barely sit up. I felt so angry with myself. Geez, why hadn’t I just kept skating across that grate? Could anything worse have happened? I started crying, not only because everything throbbed and ached but also because I was angry. And I hate crying, which made me angrier and made me cry more.

  “Beauty, I thought I told you to stay!” I yelled when I saw her galloping to some guy in sunglasses sitting on the rock. All dressed in black, with those dark glasses and glossy black gelled hair, the guy looked cool and mysterious, like a fashion model or a secret agent. He seemed to be watching me, too, and totally put off by Beauty, pushing her away. Being such a blubbering mess, I was glad when my stupid dog finally came back to me.

  Ignoring the stranger, I took off my Rollerblades and placed my hands on Beauty’s back to brace myself as I got up. Then I limped home, Beauty brushing against me all the way.

  When we finally made it through the door, Mom and Debra were having tea together and didn’t notice us coming in. I’d forgotten that part about having Deb live at home. Her life always took up my parents’ whole attention span. There would be nothing left for me. The bad side of having my sister back.

  Then Mom yelled at me about my dirty socks. Maybe not having their attention was a good thing after all. I’d soak them in bleach, I promised her to get her off my back.

  Then I ran a bath and crated Beauty, knowing from experience that she might join me, otherwise. As I soaked in the hot water I watched my bruises color in. How could I wear my new dress tomorrow—let alone walk? Not a great start to high school.

  But I didn’t have to worry. Next morning, Debra was up for hair and wardrobe consultation. “God, you bruise as easily as I do,” she said, staring at my legs. “Never mind. I’m a pro at hiding it all with makeup.”

  She sipped from her cappuccino as she considered my hair next. “Why don’t we work with your natural curl instead of against it? We can scrunch it up with some hair gel, and maybe even coax some ringlets in.” Debra ripped off a bit of croissant with her fingers. Beauty leapt up, eyeing her, ears slightly raised. Ripped-off bits usually meant doggy treats for her. “It’s amazingly quick and easy,” Debra continued, popping the croissant corner in her mouth. Beauty’s ears sank, along with her body and hopes.

  “Sounds great,” I said, slurping up the last bit of milk from my cereal.

  Then I filled Beauty’s dish with dog food. “Come on, Beauty. One Mississauga, two Mississauga, three…” I whispered under my breath, holding a finger in front of her as she sat patiently. At ten I told her, “OK, girl, go!” Beauty leapt forward and annihilated her food, crunching happily. I headed for the shower.

  Afterwards, back in her room, Debra performed her magic. My hair looked glossy wet, in smooth curls instead of sproings. Perfect. She blended concealer and foundation over the bruises on my legs so that they disappeared entirely. “Take my sandals,” she suggested, rummaging out some cork platform shoes for me.

  I slipped into them. Only one wide navy strap at the front wrapped across the top of my foot. When I walked, it felt as though I might slip out. My toes clung tightly.

  Debra clucked when I stepped in front of her full-length mirror. “With the short dress and big soles your legs go on forever. You’ll have Scotty panting.” Debra smiled.

  “What makes you think…”

  She waved her hand. In a whiny little-girl voice she mimicked me: “‘Do you think there’s only one person in the whole world you’re destined to be with?’”

  “He goes out with someone else, though,” I told her.

  “That’s too bad.” She wagged a finger at me and spoke in her older, wiser voice. “Still, in high school you’ll meet many more interesting men.” She winked. “Especially if you dress like that.”

  “But I only ever like Scott.”

  “Well, then don’t give up so easily. What’s the one thing he admires most about you?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Can you take Beauty for a walk today?” The word walk, as softly as I’d said it, must have sent secret vibrations to Beauty. She bounded up the stairs and instantly appeared at our feet, wagging her tail frantically.

  “Beauty!” she snapped her fingers. “That’s what always brings him back to you. You’re right,” Debra said.

  I felt confused. “Honestly, Debra, I think his girlfriend Gwen is a lot prettier than I am.”

  “No. I don’t mean your beauty. This Beauty.” She pointed to the dog, who went wild with joy over the attention. “With her guide-dog jacket on, can’t
you take her everywhere?” She had to shove Beauty down now, the dog was so excited.

  “You want me to take her to my first day at high school?”

  “Yes, yes,” she said too eagerly. The dog jumped on Deb again.

  “Phooey, Beauty!” I scolded her. It’s the word trainers recommend. Dogs don’t like the sound, for some reason.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Debra continued, “but sometimes you’re just a little standoffish with people.” Deb patted Beauty as she spoke, to calm her down. “And this way, everyone will talk to you. Besides, Scotty Dog has always seemed enamored with the way you raise these animals.”

  She made a lot of sense, and for sure Debra didn’t want to look after Beauty that day. So I snapped on her future-guide-dog coat and together we headed off to Alicia’s house.

  Gripping my toes to my shoes and limping all the way, I took a lot longer than I should have. Alicia already stood waiting outside.

  “Hey, Beauty!” she hollered, waving to the dog. “You coming to school today too?” Beauty strained to reach her. “Good idea, Elizabeth. Dogs are great conversation starters.” She patted Beauty’s head. “You look great, by the way. I love the hair, the dress, even the sandals….”

  Just then one of my shoes sailed ahead of my foot. My instep banged down on the hard edge of the back. “Ow, drat. Geez, it’s hard work to look good.”

  “You just have to get used to walking in heels, that’s all,” Alicia said.

  When we got to the school, we had to find and report to our homerooms. This all took longer than it should have, because Beauty made friends with everyone along the way. I thought the custodian might be upset by an animal in her school, but she just cooed at Beauty. When Beauty barked her hello, the school secretary peeked her head out of the office and then squeezed through the crowd of students around us to pat her.

  So where’s Scott? I thought. He seemed like the only person we weren’t attracting. We finally stepped into homeroom and the teacher spoke directly with Beauty instead of me. “Well, hello. Aren’t you the good, good dog? Everyone else is lined up outside. Do you want to join them, eh, doggie? Do you?” Beauty wagged her understanding and agreement, then dragged me back out.

  “Hi, Beauty,” another voice called out. I saw that it was our tour guide—Scott’s girlfriend, Gwen. Hmm. Seniors led tours, and Scott was only in second year, so that meant he was seeing an older woman.

  I gritted my teeth as the line moved forward. More walking, more toe gripping. I could feel blisters forming on the bottom of both big toes. Beauty strained ahead, following Gwen and whipping me with her tail.

  “This is the office, where you go for your late slips. They call home if you’re away, so despite what you’ve heard about kids skipping, you do get caught,” Gwen warned us. She showed us the library, which was ten times the size of the library back at my old school, not even including the computer lab attached to it. Next came the family studies room, the chemistry class, the biology lab, the music room and the technical studies workroom. So many rooms, for so many courses we didn’t even have in elementary school.

  “I’m never going to find my way around here,” I told Alicia as we walked.

  “Well, don’t worry about it,” Gwen answered. “People are happy to help. Now, Mrs. Johnson, the principal, is waiting in Gym 3 for you.”

  Several groups of first-year students joined us as we filed into one of the five huge gyms. Then Mrs. Johnson lectured us about the high-school student’s most important tool to success. She waved a day planner.

  “Nobody will spoon-feed you. High school is hard work and you need to keep on track.“ She warned against skipping classes and she encouraged us to participate. Then she finished with, “These are the best days of your lives.”

  We shuffled out of Gym 3 just as the first-period bell rang.

  Somehow a group of guys wedged in between me and the group, and I felt as though I were caught in some strange male undertow.

  One of the guys whistled at me. Was he making fun of me? I wasn’t sure, but I straightened and walked more forcefully against the current.

  “Tweenie babies—my favorite,” a second one said.

  “Excuse me,” I said softly as I tried squeezing through them to get back to my group, my face flaming. “Excuse me!” I repeated. Beauty growled, and finally I was able to barrel through. Just as I made it, though, my right sandal hurtled half the hall ahead of me.

  “I got it!” a familiar voice called. But the guy who scooped up the sandal started running away. Yeah, sure, people were all helpful around here.

  Beauty barked. No way would she let anyone get away with that. I tore off my other sandal as she bolted forward. Then I flew like some kind of human kite behind her. Down one hall, around a corner, down a flight of stairs…Would I ever remember my way back? The guy ducked into a huge room that turned out to be the cafeteria. But how would I ever find him there?

  I took a deep breath. Even at ten-thirty in the morning, the lunchroom smell hit me. Onions, gravy and pizza, all mixed in together. Most of the metal tables had students sitting around them. How could they be hungry already?

  I rubbed at my bruised hip for a moment. I’d have to give up on that sandal. Debra would be so peeved at me, but worse, I’d have to spend the rest of the day in bare feet. How impressive would that be? And these were the best days of my life? Arrr.

  Then Beauty yanked forward again, leading and guiding me to…oh my gosh, it was Scott.

  He slumped at a table, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes, the hood of his school sweatshirt covering his head. I would never have recognized him—except for Beauty’s wild reaction to him and the two French fries hanging from his nose. Who else would shove fast food up their nose?

  Beauty leapt onto him and ate the French fries from his nostrils. I started to laugh and I wanted to cry. Should I kiss him or kill him? There, on the table in front of him, sat my other sandal.

  Kyle

  Back to School

  There are two different canes blind people can carry. They both work in exactly the same way, but one is white and large and used to tap, tap your way around: a mobility cane. The second is white and tent-pole collapsible so that you can hide it away when you don’t need it. It’s supposed to identify you as visually handicapped: an identi-cane. But I didn’t want to be identified. Still, I had to practice a few days a week with a rehab worker to learn how to use either. He helped me get my bearings in the school halls by guiding me around on the weekend. The first morning back at school, however, I collapsed the identi-cane, tucking it into my backpack.

  “You know, you’ve spent so much energy hiding your diabetes. Are you going to try to hide your blindness now?” my mom asked.

  “Hide it?” I slipped down my sunglasses. “Who are you trying to kid?”

  But she was right. A vivid picture snapped into my mind: me shooting up with insulin in an ensuite bathroom at Maddie’s, surprised halfway through by her mom. Her eyebrows—which Maddie had inherited—jumped up and joined together in a look of horror. Then she backed up and I had to chase after her later to answer the question she wouldn’t ask. After all, it’s too rude to say, “Hey, are you a heroin addict?”

  You could tell she wasn’t happy. Every boyfriend’s a potential husband, Maddie explained. She wouldn’t want a drug addict for her daughter’s future mate. And I could tell by looking at her mom’s face, as I explained about my diabetes, that she wouldn’t want someone suffering from an incurable disease as a potential father to her grandchild, either. What would her eyebrows have done if she’d seen me with a white cane?

  If I could just hide my blindness for a few extra heartbeats, maybe people would give me a chance to be a real person, instead of a poster boy for a handicap.

  Mom drove me to school early. “I wish you had called one of your friends to meet you, at least on the first day,” she told me, grabbing my hand before I could take off.

  One of my friends. Trouble w
as that “one of my friends” was my only friend. When a guy isn’t a big athlete, he doesn’t necessarily collect a ton of male buddies. I chummed around with some people from Band way back last year, and then everybody pretty much fell away when I went out with Maddie.

  Music and Maddie, my only friends. Here it was my first day back at school, everyone else’s second week. I squeezed Mom’s hand back, just to duck the kiss that the tone in her voice warned me about. Then I made a big show of bringing out the identi-cane to tap my way into the building.

  Once inside though, I quickly folded it away, shuffling along the hall, running my hand across the lockers to find my way. Not bad—this was working, I could handle this. First room, second room, hallway, turn. I’d counted and planned this all out with Jack, my Orientation and Mobility instructor.

  And then the bell rang. Three hundred kids crowded into the school, all of them, it seemed, crashing into me on their way by. I lost track of when I had turned left and how many doors I had passed. Two days of practicing with Jack, all of the labeling and memory tricks he’d shown me, blanked out of my head in one hot sweaty moment. I’d told him this would never work. Still I’d hoped. I could be normal; I could fit in. I wanted to whip out my cane and fling it at the mass of sighted bodies. To snap it across one of their backs or against a locker.

  Someone grabbed me by the elbow. I smelled tangerine. I felt a light switch on inside me, felt warm and bright.

  “Come on, let me help. That’s what friends do,” Maddie told me. “And you’re in my first-period history class. It only makes sense that I take you there.” She just dragged me along.

  Wish I could have yanked my arm away and yelled, I don’t want you as a friend! I can do this myself! But I couldn’t. I didn’t even want to stop at my locker and risk losing her help. “Could you slow down a little?” I asked as we turned down the hall.

  “Um, sure.” She slowed to turtle speed. “You know, there’s a new girl who brought her dog to school first day.”

 

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