Open My Eyes

{Ch. 7} Echoes and Eyes ✓

          Mrs. Gibbens, a stoutly woman with cropped gray hair and small rectangular glasses, called for me two days later, Friday morning. She had an intimidating presence: she didn't strike me as the type to smile often.

My hands wrung, my legs bounced, my energy levels forced me to pace. And yet, butterflies took flight in my stomach and I smiled whenever I envisioned assisting the ASL classes. The waiting-room check-ins at least filled up my time, but my eyes had grown tired of staring at a computer screen for hours on end. 

So when Rita Gibbens called for me, I leaped at the opportunity to try something new.

We sat across from each other. I practically bounced in my seat, grinning from ear to ear, while Mrs. Gibbens assessed me with her hawkish gray-blue eyes. She gestured for me to sign, and I rolled my shoulders back.

For twenty agonizing minutes, I signed with her. She had asked how I came to learn ASL: a choice between ASL and Spanish when I was little. My brother chose Spanish, I chose ASL.

In junior high and high school, I sought out advanced ASL classes. I even visited a local deaf community to learn more about the culture and to practice ASL in a real-world setting.

By the way her lips twitched and her eyes alighted, that impressed Mrs. Gibbens.

At long last, she straightened in her seat and spoke aloud, "Very good, Miss Valentin. You'll start on Monday. I'm going to assign you . . ."

After explaining for half an hour the expectations she had for me as her ASL class assistant, she let me do as I pleased. I went to the cafeteria to offer my assistance, even though my ID had come in a couple days ago.

"You're so considerate, Angela," Josie gushed as she handed me a soiled plate.

"Aw, don't mention it. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy doing the dishes."

"Pinch me. Ladies, I think I've found the ideal woman," Justin flirted, grinning at me.

My cheeks pinked at the compliment.

But three of them smacked him playfully and shoved him back to his section of the kitchen. The room erupted in laughter, followed by a classic hit: "Rhythm of the Rain" by The Cascades.

An hour before lunchtime, the ladies kicked me from the kitchen since I had completed everything I could for them. I found myself back outside, under the rays of the sun. I opted for the grass instead of the bench, enjoying the sensation against my skin.

"Huh. Laundry detergent and plums. Angela Valentin?" a voice called from the playset.

I glanced over at Will and smiled. "Greetings, William Koehl!" My eyes fell to the boy hidden behind his leg. "And hello, friend!"

He bent down and encouraged the child onto the playset. Once the kid had settled at the top of the slide, Will joined me on the grass. His hands out behind him, he let his head fall back, sunlight glinting off his sunglasses.

I chewed my bottom lip. "You said it was okay to ask you a million questions, right?"

He turned his head toward me, smirking. "Ask me anything, new kid."

"I hope this doesn't come across as . . . offensive, but – how is a blind person so fashionable?" I eyed his pants and muscle shirt and Toms.

Chuckling, he said, "I'm honored you think I pick this out for myself." He sat crisscross, hands in his lap. "My little brother puts my clothes out for me. He cares a bit more about fashion than I do.