The principal of the school, Mrs. Flavia Mendes, is a lovely person. She always helped me with everything I needed. Some teachers give me a crossed look. I may be blind, but I'm not crazy. Only by the breath of a person I can tell if he or she is unsatisfied with my presence or not. I'm not incapable. I'm as qualified as them all. I graduated in college by own merits and with much more difficulty that they, because while they could look around and copy from their neighbors’ test, not even that I could do.
Caroline, whom I affectionately call as Carol is one of my great friends. We studied together in high school and also went to college at the same time. We practically grew up like sisters. She's a gorgeous brunette. By the time I went through surgery and became able to see again, she was already my friend, so you can have an idea of how long we know each other. Her voice is kind of fast, a little thin, and almost shrill. She has the habit of speaking too fast and if I'm not controlling it, she might go all the way without using a comma. She chose to be a math teacher, subject that I always hated. She was the one who helped me with my dating at the time of high school, setting dates and taking me. My first kiss was in her presence and she was peeking to see if the principal was around, to not catch me and take me to the principal’s office for skipping class. Rick, my first kiss, is now a psychologist, a handsome psychologist by the way. He has a strong voice, the kind that makes an impact and makes you want to stay there for hours only to listen to him talking and I'm not even mentioning those broad shoulders and his smooth hair. The face in a square format like the one of a Greek god always made the girls sigh. Even I sighed often. I saw him grow, get mature, turn himself into a man. Although, when I say I saw, my perception is different. The beauty for me is the voice. Through it I will create the stereotype. I heard his voice change, getting mature, becoming manly, if it is better for you to understand like that. I still think it’s unfair that he became a psychologist. He barely speaks in the office, patients hardly listen to him.
***
It was the end of the workday at the school and Rita took me to the door, making my security so that no other student would bump on me again. To tell the truth, I don’t like very much of someone holding my arm, carrying me back and forth as if I were a suitcase. I think that nobody likes that.
My mother was waiting for me at the entrance to take me home. Once again she complained, saying that I needed to create healthy habits, walking, walking to go home and be more independent. It was lunchtime, I find my whole family. My brother – the lazy John – studying in the afternoon. It would not be weird to still find him sleeping.
My mother is thin, has shoulder length hair and a fair skin that is like milk. I remember her brown eyes admiring me when I came out of surgery, when I was six. It was one of the first things that I really saw. Things were a bit blurry, fuzzy, but I remember her. That surgery was not final, I was able to see for a short period of time, but I lost my sight again months later. The doctor said that it could happen, but at least I could see the faces of my parents for some time. But my fingers see very well. I know my mom already has some small crow’s feet joining the side of her eyes. She always denies, creates some excuse, but whenever I touch her face I feel that they are there. That tiny, skinny face. My mother.
On the way home, besides the usual complaints, she decided to compliment me saying I was more beautiful after every new day, that my shoulder-length hair was very shiny and silky and that I certainly should be calling the attention of many boys. Again mom with this talk about boys. It was amazing how she tried to insinuate that I needed a boyfriend. Who said I need a man to be happy? A boyfriend? I know I'm beautiful. I'm blind, but not to that point of not seeing me. But what man would be interested in a blind woman?
At home, after I had lunch and rested a bit, I decided to go out with Adolfo. It was a beautiful Labrador, my faithful companion. Trained to take me wherever I wanted, that day we decided to go to the park, a large place with lots of green and fresh air. It wasn’t so far from my house; I could get there easily, as there were audible signals at traffic lights, to help people like me. I keep thinking about the difficulty of people in cities where they have no kind of accessibility. If I already think my town has little of it, even with the sound signals and sidewalks with markers that help me with the cane I imagine those where nobody gives the lowest value for the disabled, no matter what their types of disabilities are.
At the park I could not see the green, but I felt its presence with pure air coming into my lungs. The grass was soft. I could feel that it was pretty much greenish only by touching it. I lay for a moment, feeling the sun beating down on my face, and put my arm over Adolfo who laid his head on my lap. Children played running back and forth, the only fear I had was to receive the hit of a ball on my face, a fact that had already happened millions of times, not to mention they shouting when asking if I was blind and I was supposed to answer without seem ironic: yes, I'm blind, can’t you see?
I was with my eyes closed, with my beautiful sunglasses over them, feeling the breeze so hot, when I heard someone talking near me.
- Cute dog - said a very beautiful male voice by the way, bringing along a very pleasant scent. - What's his name?
I pretended he wasn’t talking to me and that could really be the case. At that park there were many people walking their dogs.
- Are you sleeping? - the voice continued to speak in my direction. Yes, he was talking to me and I realized that while I pretended not to be listening to him, he would insist. Wasn’t it enough that I was blind? Would I have to be deaf too?
I opened my eyes slowly stroking the head of Adolfo.
- Are you talking to me? - I asked, tilting my head slightly to the place where the sound had come.
- Yes - he said, but this time with the voice from the other side, specifically the left side, where Adolfo was lying. I moved my head quickly in the same direction where the voice came, not to let so clear that I was blind or rude, or worse, a crazy that chatted with people looking at the opposite side. After all, I no longer could pretend to be deaf.
- Your dog is very cute. I like animals very much - he continued.
- Yes - I said. – He is cute. Thank you.
I was feeling uncomfortable with the situation. I didn’t like talking to strangers. I know I was safe. Besides being in a public place, I was with Adolfo and he would never let anything happen to me. But what bothered me was the smoothness of that voice. It was beautiful, attractive. It appeared to be of a young and sexy guy. Although more than appearance, the voices also deceive us.
- As beautiful as the owner - he tried to make a move on me, although it was an unfortunate pass, because in my opinion he just compared me to a dog without even realizing it. – Nice to meet you, my name is Matthew, but you can call me Matt.
At that moment I froze. I froze because I realized what was happening to me. There was a boy introducing himself to me, a guy with a sexy, attractive, manly voice, a young man who seemed to be very beautiful, at least at sound. And more than that, I froze to imagine that I would have another big embarrassment, for sure, after saying the word, "pleasure", he should be with his hand stretching toward me, to greet me. And now what my God? What do I do?
I remember the last time that happened. The boy left angry thinking I didn’t want to greet him and spread all over the city that the beautiful girl with sunglasses was a great rude.
- Nice to meet you, too - I replied, not knowing if he really had the hand stretched toward me.
- I'm sorry if I bothered you. I think you're not really into chat. - He said with a tone more sad than anything I’ve ever heard before. - Have a good afternoon.
I just felt him rubbing his hand on Adolfo’s head and leaving. It was another big embarrassment for my collection of embarrassments. I needed to train Adolfo to learn how to take me out of these situations. So when someone would stretches out the hand towards me, Adolfo would jump, bark, execute a deadly double jump carpaccio backwards, do anything to gi
ve me a direction. I was used to my permanent blindness, but it was still strange to introduce myself that way, giving my name and the diagnosis of visual impairment.
I came home knowing I had lost one more chance to get a male friend, a thing that would be very interesting to have these days. Not that I'm a maniac, who only thinks about men, sex, deliciously beautiful voices or anything like that, but I was so sick of the same voices that a different voice would be great. Not to mention that I had some problems that only one man could help me to solve and it was time to start thinking about it.
CHAPTER 2
I spent all afternoon lying on my bed, with Adolfo lying next to me. I took the rest of the day to think. Thinking about my life and what I was doing. How could it be? A beautiful 23 years old girl and still a virgin? It was not possible that this still happens nowadays. I knew no virgin at my age, or in fact, I knew no virgin, with the exception of my students, of course. Although, based on what I’ve been listening lately, I was afraid to ask what these children were watching on television, or worse, what they’ve been actually doing.
Adolfo barked as he was agreeing with my thoughts and I told myself that from that moment on I would change. I'd no longer fear whatever is to come, and I would seek for something new. Enough of being a virgin. I know I can’t stop being blind, but I can work on not being a virgin anymore. I don’t want a marriage. I am independent, beautiful, and cool; it would not be hard to have someone. But that's the problem, it is rather difficult. Only by realizing that you're blind, men already have some fear. They think you will break, shatter, that you are completely dependent, the girl who will want to take his hand, date for years, enter the church wearing white and a veil and finally marry. Oh, the whole story is a thing from the past. I should have solved this long ago, but my blessed blindness always came in the way and insisted in fumbling me.
But then I got real. Just thinking about this virginity story I faced a big trauma: dating. I would not give myself way to any prostitute simply for not wanting to be a virgin anymore. I am a history teacher, I know that there were many battles on behalf of the great empires of women, but I wonder if any of them was still a virgin. Helen of Troy, for example, was one of those. She is not one of my favorite personalities. I could never imagine what she had to have such wonderful men fighting over her. I still remember the voice of Brad Pitt in that movie, going looking for her. But anyway, back to my reality, I need to stop being afraid to get involved. I am a mature, independent woman. I have to take control of my life.
My thoughts were taking me for a thousand paths, showing thousands of opportunities when I heard my mother calling me in the kitchen. My body did not want to take me there and the weight of Adolfo’s head in my lap made me sure that I should keep lying on my comfortable bed. My room was small, with a window next to my bed that was always throwing some fresh air into the room, the bed where I loved to lay thinking about life, a wardrobe, two nightstands and a table where it was my computer and a chair, occupying the small room very well. Even reluctantly I decided to come down, but the lazy Adolfo insisted to continue lying.
I was wearing a cotton dress with a print that I will not be able to explain what it was. It didn’t matter anyway. As I approached the front steps, already turning my face to the kitchen, I could feel a very pleasant smell. It was a very good male colony.
A freshness so familiar that for a moment I closed my eyes, as if it made any difference, and pulled the air harder to find out where the scent was coming so yummy.
- Come here, honey - said my mother, who once again was in the kitchen.
I followed there. The stair was opposite to the door, it was a kind of crossroads that connected the ladder to the exit door, with the kitchen on my right side, and the room on the left. All properly connected.
- This is my daughter, Emily - my mother said to someone who was in the kitchen with her. I could feel that there were two people. There were different flavors, one male and one female.
- Your daughter is beautiful - said the woman to whom my mother had presented me to. - It is a pleasure to meet you.
Once again I felt the chill coming over me. Is it so hard to realize that I'm blind? I was sure that at this stage of the game the lady was already raising her arm towards me. But I was really that scared when I felt her grabbing me and gave two kisses on my face. I stand still, just with a silly smile, not knowing what to do.
- She is visually impaired, Julia - My mother said, trying to explain to the woman why my reaction was so cold.
- Are you blind? - Asked the person who was in the same room and I tried so hard to find out whom he was. A beautiful voice that cherished me and pleased me in a different way.
- What is this, boy? - The lady complained – you don’t talk that way. Don’t call the girl blind. - Julia said, as one who had just heard a big bad word.
- No, don’t worry - I said quietly reaching out to nowhere - no problem in saying that I 'm blind. I'm really blind. I even think it’s more practical to call it that way.
I felt a warm hand holding mine for some time. Not only hold, but put a little pressure, a good pressure. So good that I let go quickly.
- Nice to meet you - said the boy - My name is Matthew, but you can call me Matt. But I get the impression I have seen you before - and he laughed. A delicious laugh, as if he knew that I understood the message he wanted to pass.
I laughed too. I realized he was the same boy who had found me early on at the park. And I also saw that he understood that I was not being annoying or rude, I was just being blind. Literally.
- Jason, my youngest son, should be in one of his little girlfriends’ house, and my hubby went out shopping - my mother said, cutting something I could not identify what it was. - Those are the Petersons, Ems. They are our new neighbors.
- Thank you for the cake - said Julia - Now let's go. It was a pleasure to meet you.
- I'll take you to the door - my mother said – Let’s Emily, so we guarantee that they will return to visit us.
- Do you have to sleep? - Mathew asked as we got to the door.
- No, I’ll still listen to a little bit of music.
- Don’t you want to stay out here for a while talking? Breathing a little fresh air? It's just that I'm new here and I still have no friends. And it's very boring to stay home alone.
- Of course she accepts - said my mother, practically throwing me out the door - She loves to breathe clean air.
Mrs. Julia crossed the street saying goodbye with words "bye" and "See you later.'' I felt my mother got back inside because her footsteps moved away and I took a few steps a little more forward and leaned against the wall that separated the garden of my house from the sidewalk. I loved to be there, wherever it was possible, the garden of my house had a huge variety of flowers. I spent hours trying to memorize the aroma of each.
- I’m sorry for today - Mathew started saying - I didn’t mean to be rude, I just didn’t realize that you were...
- ... Blind - I completed - I know. It always happens. It's normal I bother people when they direct the hand to greet me and I just ignore them, as if I were seeing.
- No, not that - he kept saying - I just thought you didn’t get along with me.
- Never mind - I said trying to be friendly with that nice beginner owner of such a delicious voice - let's start over, okay?
- Well – he said starting from scratch - My name is Matthew, I'm 21 years old and I am a cancer. I like feijoada, I love eating chocolate and I only take shower with hot water. Now it’s your turn.
Damn, I thought, it was too good to be true. He's practically a child. Two years younger than me. 21? Where am I going with this baby? He should still be the kind who asks his mother to put the food on the plate, leaves a wet towel on the bed, and even worse, leaves the toilet seat up. Not to mention the activities that he should enjoy doing. 21? Yeah, his voice is beautiful, but I’ll have to cut from my list of possibilities. Not a chance.
I opened my
mouth and began to speak my specifications.
- My name is Emily, I'm 23, I also love chocolate and I have no problem taking a shower with cold water. I'm blind from birth, but at age six I had surgery and I was able to see again, but then I became blind again. I am also a history teacher.
- Are you blind from birth? - He asked astonished.
- Yes, but like I said, I saw for a while. When I was six years old I had surgery. But months later I’ve gone blind again. My parents wanted to try again, but since I started to have a say in my life, I decided I didn’t want to try. I'm used to the darkness that surrounds me.
- But don’t you want to be able to see again?
- And who said I can’t see? I see more than most people out there. I see more than a lot of little smart guys who think only the eyes can see. I see with something much more important, something much stronger. With the soul and the heart. Today I don’t miss seeing the light that much, because I already have the light inside me. It guides me and helps me. Of course sometimes I fumble myself a bit, especially before, when I began to walk with Adolfo.
Shooting Stars Don't Say Goodbye Page 2
