Close Your Eyes

by Iris Johansen

  She reached out and grasped her mother’s hand tightly. “I’m glad you came, Mom. I should have called you myself.”

  “Yes, you should. I’m glad you’re willing to confess to a fault that I admit I was responsible for fostering. I wanted desperately to make you independent … even from me.” She added brusquely, “But you can stop it now. I believe you’ve learned the lesson. A little leaning is not a bad thing and can make the one leaned upon feel a sense of value.”

  She smiled shakily. “I’ll try to moderate.”

  Her mother looked away from her. “But one lesson I wish you’d take to heart. I love Olivia, but I love you more. I don’t want you to end up in surgery or the cemetery because some cheap criminal decides your life has no worth. You are a unique human being, and you must not let men like Lynch put you in a position where you’re at risk. I’ve worked far too hard for that.” She smiled. “Of course, I can’t claim that I’m solely responsible for that uniqueness. You did have a little to do with it. However, I definitely have a stake in the final result.”

  As usual, she was not willing to give Kendra’s father even a little credit. Kendra’s lips twisted. “But one of the things you taught me was that no result is final. The more you learn, the more the result alters. What starts out to be one thing can become something else entirely as you uncover new information.” She squeezed her hand again. “That’s why you taught me that I had to keep on learning, that I could never stop.”

  “I do wish you’d stop throwing my past lessons at me. You’re making me most uncomfortable. I deserve to change my mind if I want to pursue another path. Look at all the politicians who do it.” She grimaced. “No, never mind. I refuse to compare myself to a politician. I believe I’ll just be quiet and think about Olivia and try a Buddhist meditation technique that one of my students taught me.”

  “Todd?”

  “Heavens, no. Todd is much more physical than cerebral.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “It’s going to be fine, Kendra. Those doctors are very good, and we’ll supply the spiritual support. Olivia will have it all. Now relax and think wonderful thoughts.”

  Relax? Not likely. Maybe she should try her mother’s meditation technique.

  Or think about the childhood magic that she and Olivia had woven in that darkness that had bound them together. Surely that would be both meditation and prayer.

  Start at the beginning, eight years old, the day when she had met Olivia at the school for the blind. Let it flow, let the memories come alive.

  She closed her eyes.

  Woodward Academy for the Physically Impaired Oceanside, California

  The surf was wild that day.

  Kendra could hear it crash on the rocks below her. She was alone there behind the rocks, but she could hear the other students who were picknicking out on the cliff talking and laughing and playing games. She heard Miss Woodward warning them to stay away from the high safety fence near the cliff edge. Not that the warning was needed when they were all afraid and always obeyed the rules. Miss Woodward was busy at the moment but she would notice that Kendra wasn’t with the other students soon, and she’d have to leave and go back to them. Mama had told Kendra that she wanted her to try to be friends with people at the new school, and she would do as her mother asked. She didn’t want to tell her that things always seemed to go wrong when she talked to anyone, but Mama and she usually ended up alone anyway. Maybe this school would be different from those last two schools. And, if it wasn’t, at least Kendra liked the fact that the school was located near the ocean, and the sounds and scents were always changing and interesting. Even now, she heard the seagulls coming close to the shore to eat the bread crumbs the other kids were throwing to them.

  Kendra automatically cataloged each sound, identified it, then closed them all out to concentrate on another sense.

  She lifted her head and felt the warmth of the sun on her cheeks.

  Not that she really knew what the sun looked like. Some things were hard for Mama to tell her about. Though she did try, she always tried. She would sit down every night after class and ask Kendra questions about what she didn’t understand.

  But even when Kendra had asked her about the sun and how a round ball high in the sky could feel warm on her skin, she had not understood her answer.

  And Mama had known that she hadn’t understood, and Kendra could feel her sadness. She had wanted to hug her and tell her that it didn’t matter, but everything mattered to Mama.

  “Hi, I’m Olivia. You’re the new girl, Kendra, aren’t you?” One of the students had come around the huge boulder, and she plopped down on the ground beside Kendra. “Would you like to share my peanut butter and jelly? I heard Miss Woodward tell another teacher that she couldn’t get you to eat lunch. She said it was because you were…” She stopped to remember the word. “Difficult. Though that’s a funny thing to call not liking chicken salad. I don’t like it either. That’s why my daddy makes me a sandwich every morning. I’m almost eight. How old are you?”

  She wished the girl would go away. She didn’t want to listen to her. She wanted to listen to the surf and the wind. She had heard a new sound beyond that crashing surf. A dolphin? Mama had taken her to the aquarium and let her listen to the sea creatures. Kendra was almost sure it was a dolphin. “I’m already eight, and I don’t want your sandwich.”

  “It’s grape jelly. That’s specially good.” Kendra could hear the sounds of the girl settling more comfortably against the boulder. “You climbed over the safety fence to get here, didn’t you? I don’t think Miss Woodward would like it that you’re this close to the edge of the cliff. We’re not allowed to go behind these big rocks.”

  “You climbed over it, too, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “I was curious. I heard you climb the fence, and I wanted to know where you were going.”

  “Heard? You didn’t see me?”

  “No, I heard you go past me, and I knew this place was here.” She paused. “I can’t see anymore. I’m blind, like you. But Miss Woodward is right, I can hear that we’re close to the edge, and you might fall over.”

  “I wouldn’t fall over,” she said impatiently. “You might be that stupid, but I wouldn’t. I’m five steps away from the edge here and three steps away from where it narrows near where you came around the boulder.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I paced it. Mama says I always have to know where I am and what to expect. I liked the sound of the sea, and I wanted to get closer.”

  “But you weren’t scared?”

  “Because it was new to me? Don’t be silly. I’d be scared all the time. Everything is new at first.”

  Silence. “I’ve never been on the real edge of the cliff. I’ve thought about what it would feel like but … Will you show me?”

  “Do it yourself. Five steps.”

  Olivia didn’t move.

  “Scaredy-cat.” Kendra jumped up and held out her hand. “Take my hand.”

  “I’m not scared … much.” Olivia got to her feet and reached out until she grasped Kendra’s hand. “I just don’t like … new stuff.”

  “Then why do you want to get close to the edge? Yes or no?”

  “Yes.”

  “Little steps,” Kendra said as she pulled her toward the cliff edge. “One, two, three, four—stop.”

  “You said five steps.”

  “The last one takes you off the edge. Want to feel? Put the sole of your shoe down against the cliff wall. Go ahead, I’ll hold your hand.”

  “I don’t think—” She took a deep breath, and her foot probed the edge, extending out off the cliff. “Hold tight.” Then she jerked her foot back and stood beside Kendra. “It’s not so scary.” She added immediately, “Yes, it is. But I like it. It feels … different.” She started to turn away. “But I’m ready to—”

  “Stop!” Kendra’s hand tightened. “You’re all turned around. Step straight back.”

  Olivia froze and took a step b
ack. “I’m ready to eat my sandwich now. Let’s go sit down.”

  Kendra led her back to the boulder and let go of her hand. “You’re back where you started.” She dropped down where she’d been before. “You can either sit down or go back around the rocks to Miss Woodward and everyone else. You should probably go back.”

  “No.” Olivia sat down beside her. “Well, do you want half my sandwich or not?”

  Kendra didn’t want the food, but she suddenly knew she didn’t want Olivia to go away, either. It wasn’t often that she felt this way with anyone but Mama. She had liked the feeling of taking care of this girl who was nothing like her. It had made the loneliness go away for a little while. “Yes, please.” She slowly held out her hand, but Olivia was already touching her arm, then her hand. An instant later, a moist and slightly sandy piece of bread was thrust into her palm. “Thank you.”

  “Tell your mom to make your lunch tomorrow. Then we’ll trade half and half,” she said. “How long have you been blind?”

  “Since I was born.”

  “I don’t know how that would feel. It must be strange not to have ever seen anything.” She was silent. “I was in a car accident two years ago, and after that, they told me I’d never see again. I hate it.”

  “Do you? I can’t see, but everyone else seems to be pretty dumb about what’s going on around them. So I don’t know whether I hate being blind or not. I suppose I should. It makes Mama so sad.”

  “You should hate it,” Olivia said firmly. “It’s much better the other way.”

  “How can I…” She shook her head. “I won’t hate anything just because you tell me I should. Why don’t you just go away?”

  “I don’t want to go away.” Olivia was silent. “Though they’ll probably come looking for us and make us go inside in a few minutes. I think the sun’s gone behind the clouds, and it feels … wet. We’re going to have a storm.”

  Kendra could also feel that dampness that usually preceded the storm. “It won’t be right away. We have at least thirty minutes.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded emphatically. “Yes, I’m always right.”

  Olivia giggled. “Daddy would say that you shouldn’t say things like that. People won’t like you.”

  “For telling the truth?” She frowned. “Mama likes me, and I don’t care about anyone else.”

  “My mama died in the accident. Daddy says she’s in heaven, where there’s lots of stars and golden gates.”

  “I guess that sounds okay,” Kendra said doubtfully.

  “It’s wonderful, Daddy says so.”

  “I don’t know anything about golden gates. Mama told me that the sun is supposed to be golden, too. I don’t know about that either.”

  “You don’t know much, do you?”

  “I know things that you don’t,” Kendra said, stung. “You thought we were going to have to run back inside just because it got cloudy. So you’re not so smart. Who cares about what the sun looks like anyway? I don’t need to know stuff like that.”

  Olivia was silent, then took her hand. “I’ll show you. Put your finger out and we’ll draw the sun in the sand together. It’s a circle…”

  The sandy earth was warm under the pad of Kendra’s forefinger.

  Warmth in the darkness.

  “That’s the way it is, round and round and round, and so bright and warm. The rays make patterns…” Olivia said. “I sometimes lie in bed and remember how everything looked, so I’ll never forget it. If I forgot, then I’d be like you, wouldn’t I? I wouldn’t like that. Can you see the sun now?”

  Warmth and a faint lifting of the darkness. But she wasn’t alone in the darkness, Kendra realized with surprise. Olivia’s hand holding her own. Round and round. The rough sand and the sun surrounding them with light. Strange that she felt as if she at last knew what Mama had been trying to describe to her. Was she seeing it or just imagining what Olivia wanted her to see?

  “I think … I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Sure you do.” Olivia’s hand closed desperately around hers. “You’ve got to help me remember. I don’t like this darkness. I want it to go away. It scares me.”

  “There’s nothing to be scared of. That’s silly.”

  “Aren’t you scared of anything?”

  “Not of anything on the outside.” Only of being alone in the darkness. Only of making Mama sad. “And I don’t have anything I have to remember.”

  “But you should know about stuff.” Olivia dropped her hand and got to her knees. “That’s okay. I’ll make you see it. I’ll tell you all about everything. Everything in the whole world.”

  Because by telling Kendra, she would not lose her own mind pictures and memories. How did she know that? Kendra wondered. Maybe it had something to do with that moment of shared darkness. “Mama tells me everything that I—”

  “Oh, but I can do it better. You said that you could see it.”

  “I said…” What had she said? “Maybe.”

  “It will be fun.” Olivia jumped to her feet, her voice vibrating with excitement. “We’ll be best friends. We’ll be together forever. You need me.”

  Kendra suddenly believed her. She did need this girl who had come into the darkness of her life and shown her the sun.

  And Olivia needed Kendra.

  And neither one of them would ever be alone again …

  * * *

  “SHE’S STILL alive.”

  Kendra looked up as Lynch joined her at Olivia’s bedside in the ICU. “So far.” Don’t be negative. “She’s still in a coma. She’s got a long way to go, but she’s going to make it.”

  Lynch came forward. “Is that what the doctors said?”

  “It doesn’t matter what they said.” Her glance shifted back to Olivia. “She looks like a mummy with all those bandages on. She’d laugh and make a joke if she could see herself.”

  “Would she?” He came closer and looked down at Olivia. “She sounds like a person I’d like to know. A sense of humor is a jewel beyond price. May I ask what the doctors found during surgery?”

  “Bad stuff.” She tried to keep her voice steady. “The worst is the kidney. They had to operate, and they’re not sure—” She threw back her head. “But I’m sure. It will take time, but she’ll be fine. I know it.”

  “Then I’m sure you’re right.” His voice was very gentle—for Lynch. “Where is your mother?”

  “I sent her home. She had a class to teach today, and there wasn’t any sense in both of us being here. I told her I’d call her as soon as Olivia woke up.”

  If she woke up.

  No, think positive. Those damn doctors didn’t know everything. They didn’t know how strong Olivia could be, how determined. She changed the subject. “My mother’s not sure she approves of you. She doesn’t like anyone to try to manipulate her. And she hates it when they succeed.”

  “I just took her off guard. I wouldn’t have had a chance if she hadn’t been worried about both of you.”

  “If she decides that’s true, then she may let you off the hook. If the decision goes against you, then you’re toast.”

  “I suspected that would be the way of it.” He smiled faintly. “She’s a lot like you, isn’t she?”

  “Not one bit. Well, we’re both stubborn. We both care about each other. That’s about all the similarity.” She met his gaze. “But I don’t want her hurt. She may not realize what a powerhouse you are. If she goes after you, then you take it and smile.”

  “Whatever you say. I don’t usually attack aging professors.”

  “Aging? My mother? You didn’t take her measure at all, did you?”

  “I wasn’t paying much attention to her. I was worried about her daughter.”

  She was silent. “Thank you for bringing her here. It … helped.”

  “I hoped it would. You looked vulnerable. It shook me a little. I’ve never seen you like that.”

  “When you’re blind, you hide vulnerability at all costs. Jus
t the handicap is vulnerable without any added show of weakness.” She looked back down at Olivia. “But I never had to hide it from Olivia. She knew what I was feeling. We could sense each other’s pain and joy.” She took Olivia’s hand. Was it colder, or was that Kendra’s imagination? “I was blind from birth, but Olivia had six years of sight before she lost her vision in an accident. I was terribly confused as a child. I could use my other senses, but I didn’t know … I couldn’t imagine. I had no frame of reference. But Olivia would tell me how it looked, she’d help me to build a picture in my mind through touch and hearing. Do you realize what a miracle that was? She gave me all that she had left, and we shared it.” She added musingly, “And, do you know, that world we built in the darkness was pretty damn wonderful. It was like reading a book where every description and character becomes your character, your world. I doesn’t matter how the author sees it. Your imagination makes it belong to you to accept or change as you like. When we were little, we’d make it a fairy story. Later, it became less fun and more work. But that’s how it is whether you have special problems or not, isn’t it?”

  “I think perhaps the two of you might have had it a little more difficult than the rest of us.” He cleared his throat. “May I get you anything? A cup of coffee?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you. You can go now. There’s nothing you can do. It’s not as if Olivia and I aren’t used to being alone together. Sometimes it felt as if there were no one else in the universe.” She tried to steady her voice. “I just have to stay here and try to get through to her and tell her she can’t let go. I think I can reach her. There have been a few moments today that I’ve thought she was aware of me. I just have to go deeper into the darkness. This time, she’s the one alone in the dark, and I’m the one who has to make her see that she doesn’t want to stay there.”

  “I’m feeling kind of … helpless.” He added with barely repressed violence, “I don’t like it. I want to do something.”