I sat at McDonald's nibbling, between signing to Emily, at my burger. I was paying more attention to the hands of my friend than her face, which really was a no-no in learning ASL. She moved her hands gracefully almost as if they were a ballet. I easily became entranced by their words. Maybe if I had been watching Emily's face as much as her hands I'd have had a clue about what was going to happen next but her hands were dancing and I was lost.
Oh... I think I am a head of myself here. I probably should tell you how all this started before telling you about Emily. I am Rachel Stevens. This is my story as well as Emily's. About 10 months ago I moved from a small town to an even smaller town. When I moved a lot of things happened to me. For one thing even though I have been hard of hearing for two-thirds of my life, my hearing continued to worsen. The other thing is the agency that helps me look for work decided that they either were going to stop helping me or I had to learn American Sign Language.
I didn't want to learn ASL. I fought tooth and nail not to learn ASL. Learning this was like the final nail in the coffin. It meant giving in and accepting that I am deaf. I had no intentions of accepting anything. How could I accept that the world around me is silent if I remove my hearing aids? It was this feeling of anger and resentment that I went off again to college. And it was with these feelings that I first encountered Emily.
Emily... Emily Wesson to be exact. I remember walking into her office for the first time. I was more than a bit intimidated by the fact that she didn't speak at all. Everything she said was with her hands and was interpreted to me by Sally Lang, the secretary. It took a bit of getting use to, since I had never been around a person in my life that used Sign Language as their primary language before. By the time the day was over I had long since forgotten that the words were being formed on her hands and the voice telling me what was said was Sally's. Somehow, some way... the voice and the hands had became one. Sally faded into the background and Emily came to the forefront. It is Emily who I remember so vividly with her long raven colored hair and cobalt blue eyes that flashed and sparkled with life.
I can't say that I don't long to hear Emily's voice. I do. I don't know why exactly maybe just to assure myself she does have one, which is totally idiotic since I know she does. Maybe I want to know if her voice echo's the kindness her eyes and hands portray. Perhaps I want to hear it so that Sally's voice is not the one I hear in my mind when I interpret what Emily tells me with her hands. Maybe it's because it is an unknown... I doubt she'd ever understand this need in me for her to open her mouth and produce a sound... any sound but it is one I have needed since we met. But a need I think will not be fulfilled.
It took me almost the whole first semester of ASL 1 class to get over my anger, break out of my shell and approach Emily for the first time. It wasn't for lack of effort on Emily's part. Every time I saw her she'd smile and say hi, asking how I was. The warmth of her spirit flowed from her eyes. They say that the eyes are the way to the soul. If Emily's show her soul then I don't believe I have ever met a kinder person. It was my anger and resentment that held me back from trying to talk to her as a person instead of as a teacher for so long. However, once I started to like learning ASL I also wanted to learn more about this new World that had been opened to me. I turned to Emily with my hopes and dreams and my greatest fears. She didn't turn me away. Never has she said I'm busy, I don't have time to talk. She's always there and in those first months that I knew her she became my inspiration and my friend.
So on a blistery, cold May afternoon I sat at McDonald's with her watching her hands dance. I didn't think beyond what her hands were saying. I wasn't that good at interpreting what she was telling me, anyway. We communicated through a mixed cross of ASL signs, fingerspelling and when worse came to worse she'd write me notes and I'd reply in the same. We'd only gone to lunch a few times before. Always she'd schedule me as an appointment in her calendar. I never knew how to interpret this fact. Did it mean that she saw me as only a student? Or did it mean she saw me as a friend but wanted to make sure she had the time to talk to me out of her friendship with me? If I had known then what I do now I wouldn't have ever even thought of the first possible explanation. This time we were eating together because in less than a week the semester would be over and I would return home until summer classes started in June. It was sort of a goodbye lunch. Neither of us knew that in reality this meal would bind us together in the knowledge of a shared secret.
I remember I was trying to tell her about my grandmother's farm and the rolling hills that surrounded my home. My eyes were shut as I tried to think of what I wanted to say, a bad habit on my part and another one of those no-nos. I'm not sure what made me open them... I don't think she made a conscious sound but I felt something change. Call it a sense of foreboding if you want but something made me jerk open my eyes only in time to watch Emily vomit. That I must say it not something one would want to open their eyes to see. I reacted quickly and jumped up from my seat to get out of the way of the offensive, vile liquid that was pouring over the table and dripping in copious amounts to the floor. The other patrons were doing their best to hold their own stomach contents, as was I. I moved behind her and pulled her long strands of hair away from her face. Somehow it seemed like the only thing I could do, the one act of kindness I could show her while she was so ill. I made a bun out of it and secured it with a pencil. It seems stupid now but it was all I could think of doing at the time.
I don't remember exactly what happen next. Maybe someone from McDonald's came over and started cleaning up. I seem to remember helping Emily from her seat and heading with her to the restroom. I probably said a few prayers along the way about being grateful for my experience as a CNA and not being easily grossed out. I probably also said a few more to get me out of the situation I was in. In the restroom I tried to help Emily clean herself up some.
She looked like death warmed over and several shades of green flitted across her face as she splashed water from the facet on it. Next thing I knew she looked at me once and then boom she was on the floor. "Now what I thought?" We had come to McDonald's in her car. I knew basically zip about her personally besides generalities. The only thing I did know was she was 48 but does that count for much in a situation like this? I stood looking down at her for a second that seemed like minutes trying to decide what I should do. What would she want me to do? I had no idea. Finally, I knelt beside her and found the pager that she wore at her hip. I had no clue really how to operate it but it was the equivalent of a phone. She could send messages to her friends and co-workers on it and they could respond. I thought maybe I could send a message to Sally or Jane Wellington, another teacher who was deaf and Emily's best friend. I fiddled with the contraption for a minute or two before I finally found Jane's name listed and figured out how to send a message to her.
Basically my message consisted of something like, "Jane, this is Rachel. I need help. Emily's sick and I don't know what to do." I held the pager in my left hand waiting for it to vibrate, letting me know that Jane had returned a message to my query. In the mean time, I ran a paper towel beneath the cold-water facet with my right hand and knelt next to Emily, gently applying the cold clothe to her face. She started to come around about the time Jane sent a message back asking where we were. I responded quickly as Emily's eyes opened with fright dimming their normal brightness.
"It's okay," I signed, "I paged Jane. She's on her way here. I didn't know what else to do. I know we are friends but I know so little about you as a person. Jane was the only one I know that could maybe help me and you."
Emily gave Jane's name sign with raised eyebrows questioning if she understood me correctly.
"Yes, Jane." I replied as the pager buzzed in my hand again. Jane was asking if Emily was feeling any better. I handed the pager to Emily and let her answer for herself. She tried to stand after she sent the message but she was dizzy and sat back down looking at me with dazed eyes.
"I'm sorry," she signed.
"It's okay. I have a strong stomach. What do you want me to do? I hope my paging Jane was okay?"
"It okay. I tired." Emily responded as Jane burst through the door, her Irish Green eyes flashing.
"What happen?" Jane signed crinkling her nose at the pungent smell. She brushed back her chestnut tresses from her face as she took turns looking from me to Emily.
"She vomited and passed out," I finally signed and fingerspelled.
I had to laugh when Jane corrected my fingerspelling with the sign for passing out. It seemed a weird time to be trying to teach me but then again it probably would stick with me better than some of the other signs she'd shown me over the course of the year.
Before I knew exactly what was happening, Jane had Emily on her feet. I couldn't keep up with Jane's signs. They were a lot more advanced than I could comprehend at the stage of learning I was. I had to tap Jane on the shoulder to get her to remember I was there. "What are we doing?" I asked.
"Taking Emily home. Will you drive my car? I drive Emily's," Jane answered. I nodded yes hoping that I could drive Jane's car. It's not a matter of not being able to drive but you see I'm technically a dwarf along with being deaf and not all cars are made for shrimps my size to drive. I'm not that short. I'm 4 foot 8 inches tall but still not all cars fit me or should I say I don't fit all cars. So Jane asking me to drive her car left me a bit apprehensive but some how I did manage to follow Jane to Emily's house.
Being that I still didn't understand more than a forth of what Jane was saying to Emily and vice versa I was left pretty much to myself at Emily's. Jane busied herself in the kitchen and Emily disappeared down a hallway to what I assumed was the bedroom. Her critters sat staring at me, seeming to expect me to do something. I didn't know if the animals responded to sign or voice or both. I had never thought to ask Emily. I hadn't dreamt that I'd need to ever know besides curiosity sake. So there I sat with 4 dogs and 2 cats and a ferret looking at me. The ferret decided that I needed a fur collar and wound its soft body around my neck. Two of the dogs lay on my feet. The cats finally gave up the staring contest and headed for the kitchen where I guessed Jane would take pity on them and feed them. The other two dogs headed down the hall to find their mother.
I sat there in silence, waiting for something, anything to happen. I hoped eventually Jane would remember that I had to go back to school at least to retrieve my car. I just didn't feel like it was the right time yet to make her remember. She was more concerned about Emily and with good reason. I was concerned about Emily, too. I couldn't exactly put my finger on it but something was nagging at me. I felt like I was missing some clue as to what was happening. I couldn't tell you how long I sat there listening to a silent house except for Jane's banging of pots and pans in the kitchen and sound of water running from the bedroom area. Eventually the water stopped running from the bedroom and Emily emerged looking pale in a green terry cloth bathrobe trailed by the missing two dogs. She couldn't help but crack a weary smile at the ferret and dogs that'd decided I made a comfy bed.
"Jane forgot me I think," I signed with a smile. It was a joke between Emily and myself. She had made the mistake of forgetting my name once and I hadn't let her forget it.
"Maybe," she replied with the same tired smile. I could tell she was feeling better but was still tired and weak from her illness. "You want rid of your fur collar?" she asked as I tried not to move my head for fear of upsetting my furry little friend.
"Yes, I need to use the bathroom, okay?" I asked as she removed the slender little critter from around my neck.
"Down the hall, 1st door on left. Sorry, I left it messy."
"You not feeling well. It's okay," I replied shaking off the two dogs that looked up at me with forlorn eyes before they went right back to sleep.
I stood at the sink washing my hands. I remember I reached for a towel to dry them on and knocked a hairbrush into the wastepaper basket. It was an innocent act. Yet, I felt a surge of guilt as I reached down to retrieve it from the receptacle. Maybe if I hadn't seen the box half hidden beneath a mound of Kleenex things would have been different. I saw the box and I knew immediately why this all seemed so familiar. I closed my eyes and pulled the box free of its hiding place. The contents slide out and with a quick look I knew the truth of what was happening. "She knows why she's sick," I thought carefully hiding the box again and rewashing my hands.
When I walked back into the living room both Emily and Jane looked at me with hard eyes. I couldn't lie to them. They'd have known, somehow, they would know. I did the only thing I could do I signed, "I know." Emily turned her head away. I wanted desperately to tell her it would be okay. I'd keep her secret as long as she needed me to keep it. I was torn between how to respond to her then. Did I tell her I was happy for her? Obviously it might not be an occasion for happiness so was that the right response. She hadn't told me the truth when given the opportunity so it was quite obvious that she hadn't planned for anyone to know yet if ever. But it also was apparent that Jane knew.
I knelt beside the chair in front of her face and looked deep into those cobalt colored eyes. In the end I could think of nothing to say so I took her hand in mine, gave it a squeeze and said nothing at all as my mind raced with the knowledge.