Different Kind of Beauty

by Sylvia McNicoll

  “That shouldn’t be allowed.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot about your thing with dogs.” We turned into the classroom. “Point is it’s a future guide dog. You should check that out.”

  I don’t have a thing with dogs, I wanted to say as I fingered the scar on my cheek. Maddie pushed me toward a chair. As I sat down, I quickly slipped my tape recorder into the desk. When Mr. Fulmer spoke, I would press the first button, Record. I’d started note-taking like this last year. It sucked.

  I slumped into the chair, trying to look casual. My sunglasses slipped down. Stupid things. I pushed them back up. Chairs scraped across the floor to the left and to the right. I heard Mr. Fulmer clear his throat from the front. “Yes, Ryan?”

  Ryan—some kid I didn’t know or remember. “Sir, when’s that blind guy going to get here?”

  Mr. Fulmer had warned them? I squirmed for a moment in the big hush that followed. Most of the kids must have known anyway. They’d likely heard some rumor about what had happened, even if they didn’t miss the quiet guy from Band.

  But Ryan hadn’t recognized me as the blind guy and that made me feel strangely proud, as though I’d achieved something. Kids wear dark glasses inside all the time. Without the cane, who could know for sure? Maybe this would be OK; maybe I could be myself.

  “Ryan? Four seats in back of you is ‘the blind guy’,” Mr. Fulmer said, emphasizing the last two words. “Say hello, Kyle.”

  I silently waved my hand just above my head.

  “Don’t you feel like pulling your feet from your mouth now, Ryan?” Kids sputtered and tittered over that one. And then Mr. Fulmer continued with his lesson, not allowing any awkwardness to take over the class.

  I relaxed and listened to the discussion on the causes of the First World War.

  Tonight I would have to replay the whole thing on tape, instead of just skimming some handwritten notes. Then I would scan the reading assignment onto disk and get my computer to read my homework for me. I’d choose Psycho Eddie’s voice—a rasping, breathy read that would make every fact sound like a whispered secret. Maybe I wouldn’t fall asleep then, the way I often did listening to talking books.

  When the bell rang, I only had to hang back a little and Maddie scooped me up by my elbow again. French class turned out to be likewise, a breeze. For me, other languages were like music, something I picked up really easily. I wondered if there was a Psycho Pierre voice on my program.

  “Do you wanna come to lunch at the mall?” Maddie asked after English class. “Not just with me. With a gang of us?”

  Did I want to sit all by myself in the cafeteria, or hang around with someone I loved much more than a friend?

  “The mall, sure,” I said. “Let’s just throw my backpack in the locker first.”

  Too late, I realized that my folded identi-cane had stayed behind in that locker. What the hey, I thought. I heard about ten giggling voices suddenly surround me. I had plenty of girls to guide me.

  Then some loud, swearing guys joined us—yeah, I recognized Ryan’s four-letter dialogue in among the other ones.

  “Hey, you’re Kyle, the blind guy. Cool.”

  It suddenly did seem cool. Another girl looped her arm in mine. “Hi, it’s me, Rebecca,” she said, a little loudly. “Do you have a sixth sense? You know, because you’re blind.”

  “No.” Stupid ideas people had about blindness—like there was some gift attached, to make up for the disability. “Even if I did, technically it would only be a fifth sense.”

  Rebecca chuckled.

  But it was a dry, I-don’t-really-get-the-joke kind of sound. Not like that laughter I’d heard from the girl in the park—full of energy and happiness.

  Feeling like an idiot, I stumbled down a curb, and then tripped up the walk on the other side of the street. But no one said anything. Probably what they expected from The Blind Kid. When we walked into the mall, the floor was smoother; and I thought I did a lot better, really blending in. I ordered a veggie sub in the food court, thinking even a blind boy could eat a sandwich without getting hot things up his nose.

  “Here, let me get that sauce off your chin,” Maddie said.

  Too late to stop her, I felt a napkin brushing at me.

  “Hey, Kyle, would you like to feel my face?” a different girl asked. “It’s Sarah, beside you. Really, it’s OK.” Without waiting for an answer, she placed my hands on her cheek. Her skin felt soft and warm. There’s just nothing like a girl’s skin, anyway. But my hands froze. I didn’t really want to run my sweaty palms over her nose and eyes. What would it do, anyway? Did she think I could cut-and-paste an image of her with this touching?

  “Heh, heh. Kyle gets to feel Sarah up,” Ryan said.

  I dropped my hands immediately.

  “Hey, I gotta hit the can,” he said.

  “Me too,” I said. “Can you take me?”

  He didn’t answer really quickly. Too bad I wasn’t a girl—they go to the bathroom together in flocks. “Well, OK,” he finally said, “just as long as you know I prefer chicks. Heh, heh,” he said, grabbing a piece of my shirt and tugging me along. “Meet you at the arcade after,” he called to his buddies.

  We walked quickly and I heard the door squeak open. “Just point me to the stalls,” I said to Ryan, not wanting to trust my aim at the urinals. At least not in front of Ryan.

  “Over there.” He kind of pushed me into a door, which swung open. I stepped through, fumbled to close it, fumbled to try to lock it and then fumbled with my zipper. Everything took ten times longer with all my nervous fumbling. And then, just as I raised my T-shirt to shoot a few units of insulin into my gut, the door squeaked open again.

  “Hey, man, let’s go,” I heard one of my other lunch pals call. “The new Killer Commando game is in. They’re giving away free games to the first twenty people.”

  “Ah, keep your shirt on. I’m coming,” Ryan’s voice answered. I heard some more door squeaking and banging. Then nothing.

  “Hey! Hey!” I called out as I put my Novapen away. I hoped against hope that Ryan hadn’t just taken off. But no one answered. I banged open the stall door and tried again. “Ryan, are you here?”

  Nobody answered.

  CHAPTER 4

  Elizabeth and Beauty

  Strange…

  Beauty gave Scott’s face an appreciative slurp, then studied the fries on the table. I wanted to sock Scott, but he tilted his head, reminding me of the first Beauty, when I caught her chewing up my favorite desert boots. And suddenly I wanted to hug him instead. Only Scott belonged to someone else too, just like Beauty I. So I ended up feeling stupid, like my arms and legs had grown miles too long in the Rodeo Drive sundress. A “mommy longlegs” with dirty, blistered feet.

  I made a quick grab for the sandal on the table.

  Scott caught my arm and grinned at me. “Don’t I get a kiss for finding your shoe?” He leaned toward me. I could feel his breath against my cheek.

  “Finding?” The shoe in my hand turned into a weapon. “More like stealing,” I said as I swung at him.

  He, of course, caught my other arm. “You are under my power,” he said in low commando cybertones as he tugged me toward him. “Resistance is futile.” Then he puckered his lips into a fish mouth. “Kiss me.”

  That voice, the hood and sunglasses, a new set of French-fry tusks…I shook my head. Well, he was toying with me, obviously.

  But his sunglasses slipped for a moment and I stared into his dark brown eyes. He didn’t look away immediately, and there was something there; I knew it. And then, dropping one of my arms, he quickly pushed the glasses back up. Two white dots appeared on his cheeks. With Scott’s olive skin tone, it’s the only way he blushes. He dropped my other arm, too, like it was a stick of live dynamite. Both of my arms were free, and yet now I found myself leaning toward him too.

  “Hi, Elizabeth,” Gwen’s voice called from behind me. “Glad we caught up to you.”

  Beauty barked a sharp, eager greeting.


  I flung my sandals to the floor and slipped them on quickly. Then I turned to see Gwen leading the rest of my group to the table. “Oh, hi. Yeah, I got lost but found Scott here.”

  Other groups filed in around the other tables. Beauty wagged and licked at all who came near her, enjoying the fuss.

  Alicia slid in beside Scott immediately, giving him a breathy “hello.” Then she lowered her lashes and smiled, tucking her lips securely over her braces. She’d gone out with Scott before I did, and our friendship had floundered when Scott had dumped her for me. So it was an ego thing. She just had to try out her flirting powers on him again. And she was winning this time.

  Scott grinned a big hello back. He seemed to enjoy all the attention he got too, just like my stupid dog.

  “Hey Alicia, did you know Gwen and Scott are going out?” I said casually. There—I’d warned her. If she kept up the eyelash batting and the silly smirk, she at least would know she was making an enemy at her new school.

  “Wow, what a small world.” Alicia sat back, recovering quickly.

  Gwen smiled at her, confident and secure, as she offered Beauty bits of a cookie.

  I ended up talking to a lot of new kids, explaining about guide dogs and guide dogs in training. But when it was time to go, I stumbled over Beauty and ended up looking stupid yet again.

  “I just can’t walk in these shoes anymore,” I complained.

  “I’ll lend you my gym shoes,” Scott offered, and that was the end of the glamour part of my day. With his size 9 basketball hightops on, I kept tugging at my sundress as I sat in my classes, copying down all the things I needed and assignments due in my high-school planner. It was the secret to high-school success, after all. Mrs. Johnson had told us. Keeping it up to date was something I could handle. Not like high heels, Scott or Beauty.

  Then, at the end of my first day at high school, I trudged home with Alicia and Beauty.

  “Gwen’s not in the least bit pretty,” Alicia lied. “You just have to work a little harder. Find excuses to get together with Scott. Hey—she may have his heart now, but you’ve got his hightops.”

  “Uh-huh. Bye. See you tomorrow.” Beauty and I continued on to our house. I sent her to her crate so I could sort through my homework alone, in my bedroom, in peace. There wasn’t that much, first day and all, but I just wanted to stay organized. That’s when I realized my day planner had gone missing. I felt hot and sweaty as I rifled through my backpack a third time.

  “Elizabeth, is that you?” my sister’s voice called.

  “Who else?” I said dropping the bag.

  “Could you come here? It’s an emergency.” Debra sounded as though she were stuck at the bottom of a tiny hole.

  I went to see what was wrong.

  “Liz!” She grabbed me the moment I stepped into the hall. “Thank god you’re home. Come in here, quick, and shut the door.” She pushed a little white tube into my hands. “Check out the windows,” she told me. “What do you see?”

  I studied the two clear slots in the tube and tried to be exact, since it seemed so important to Debra. “A blue heart in the left-hand window and a double blue line in the other.”

  “No!” Debra cried. “Do you really think that shape in the left window is a heart? I mean, do you think it’s dark enough or is it just some shadow? It looks like a blob to me.”

  I studied it again. “It’s definitely a heart.”

  “OK, OK. Tell me, a heart means positive…” She passed me a box, now, with a picture of a baby on it. “Could you double-check these instructions? Does that mean positively pregnant, or positively not pregnant?”

  I looked from my sister’s bruised face to the tube, and then to the tiny print on the box. I read the positive paragraph twice, to make sure I got it right. “You’re having a baby,” I finally said, feeling just as stunned as she looked.

  Debra slumped back onto her bed, throwing her hands over her face. “What am I going to do?”

  I sat down beside her and slumped back, covering my face too.

  “I don’t know, I don’t know.” Then suddenly I sat up. “First thing,” I said, feeling a little sick now, “first thing, Debra, you’re going to have to tell Mom. Does she know yet that you and Rolph have broken up?”

  “Oh, my god.”

  I sighed, taking that as a definite no. “Could you just give me a few minutes to clear out first, then?” The last place I wanted to be was in the same house when Debra told Mom all her news. So, battered and bruised—on the outside from Rollerblading and on the inside from my first day at high school, and Debra’s problems—I limped downstairs. “Walkies, Beauty? Do you want to go walkies?” I asked.

  Beauty rushed at me from her crate, wagging her tail in a high-speed thump-thump. I dropped to the floor, giving her permission to throw her paws on my shoulders and slather my face. She was instant cheer-up medicine. Even though my eyes and mouth were tightly scrunched up for anti-drool protection and I couldn’t see Beauty, I could still feel her massive, friendly paws weighing me down, making me feel secure and somehow more in balance with the world. I scratched behind her ears, stroked her back and then just threw my arms around her. She didn’t care about anything or anyone else in the world in that moment but me. She didn’t mind that Deb’s problems would soon take over the house. It didn’t matter that I’d tripped, that I’d lost my day planner and my sandal or that I still liked Scott. In Beauty’s eyes, I was everything and I was perfect.

  Beauty made a sudden break for the front door, grabbing one of Scott’s hightops and shaking it.

  “You’re right,” I told her. “We should get those back to him.”

  Find excuses to get together with Scott. It’s what Alicia had advised me to do, and she had way more success with boys than I did. And Deb, my other expert, had told me Beauty attracted Scott. It seemed like a mutual thing, too.

  So I headed over there, Beauty trotting alongside me, both of Scott’s hightops in her mouth now. The last bit of sunset color was just draining from the sky and the air cooled quickly. I rang Scott’s doorbell and hugged myself as I waited, trying to keep warm.

  “Elizabeth, come on in,” Scott said when he saw me. “You’re shivering. What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just cold. Here, take these.” I pulled the shoes from Beauty’s mouth and handed them to him. “Actually, I lost my day planner.”

  “No!” Scott shook his head in mock horror, and then smirked. His voice turned into a falsetto imitation of Mrs. Johnson: “‘The high-school student’s most important tool to success.’ How will you ever manage without one? Just one sec’y.” Scott reached into the closet and pulled out his backpack. He rummaged for a minute and then held out his planner to me. “Here. I never use it.” He chucked my shoulder and winked. “And I’m doing just as badly as in elementary school.”

  “Thanks so much… Hey, you wouldn’t want to come for a walk, would you?” I asked.

  “Sure.” He grabbed his jacket. “Do you wanna borrow this?

  I nodded and he draped it over my shoulders. I felt instantly warm and relaxed.

  Outside with Scott, I looked up. The sky had purpled and one pinprick of silver winked at me. The first star of the evening. Would I ever feel this easy with another boy again in my whole life? I wished on that star. Let me have Scott back.

  “Something else bothering you?” Scott asked after we’d walked without talking for a minute.

  “Yeah. Although I really shouldn’t say.”

  “Come on. Haven’t we known each other our whole lives? I mean, there’s no one for me like you. Don’t you feel that way?”

  “Yeah, I do, but you’ve got Gwen.”

  “Still, you and I are best friends.” Scott put his arm around me. “And that means more.” He drew me around to him and kissed my forehead. “Listen, Liz, let’s make a pact. When we get really old—let’s say when I turn thirty—we call each other up no matter where we are and, if we’re not hooked up with anyone else,
we get married.”

  I could feel all kinds of color rushing to my face. That had to mean that Scott loved me, right? “Didn’t someone else do that in some movie?” I asked.

  “Too bad. We’re doing it too. And this will seal the deal.” Cupping my chin in his hands, Scott kissed me on the lips.

  Kyle

  Blind Man’s Bluff

  It sucked to rely on other people. I pushed open the bathroom door leading back out to the mall, hoping to find Ryan outside waiting for me. But the first twenty people got a free turn on Killer Commando—what was I thinking?

  Could I shuffle my way back to the food court? I started forward, trying to sniff for food while brushing my fingertips along the wall.

  “Hey, watch where you’re going,” a woman complained as I stumbled over some kind of carriage. When a baby cried, I realized it must have been a stroller.

  “Sorry.”

  I kept going, fingering sometimes open air, sometimes clothing displays. Still no food smells. I could hear a water fountain, and the bing of an opening elevator. Had to be close by, if I remembered correctly. I doubled back toward the smell of popcorn. My fingertips felt greasy from the dirty walls, but I stumbled toward what I thought was the Corny Combos stand. Somebody bashed into me.

  “Ow. Oops—sorry!” Then I remembered that the popcorn concession wasn’t part of the food court. Oh, where the heck was I? I stopped and held my hand to my head.

  “Hey, you’re not going to throw up in here, are you?”

  When I didn’t answer right away, somebody grabbed my arm. He smelled vaguely of garlic and some kind of lime aftershave.

  “Listen, I’m not drunk.” I took a breath. I had to ask for help; there was no choice. “I’m blind. Would you just lead me back to the food court? There’s a bunch of girls from my school there.”

  He started speaking a little louder. “Well, I just cleared out some female students. Loud and giggly. Would that be them?”

  Mall security. Oh, great. “Probably.”

  “Sorry. My job, you know. They were taking up table space, and other people were waiting.”