Different Kind of Beauty

by Sylvia McNicoll

  “OK, OK.” I had to think quickly. “How about the arcade? Some guys I know are playing Killer Commando there.”

  “One-fifteen,” he said, as though checking his watch. “My lunch break, but OK.” He grabbed me by the elbow and we headed through the mall. Back when I could see, I used to feel sorry for the kids being dragged alongside security guards—caught shoplifters, I’d assumed. How many people might be thinking I was a shoplifter? What if one of them knew my parents? It’s more embarrassing to be blind than caught shoplifting, I thought as we finally made it to the arcade. The security guard called out Ryan’s name in a booming voice that made it sound like he wanted to arrest him.

  Would he have even answered if he had been there? Who knows? No one answered, in any case, and it wasn’t like I could pull him out of a lineup. “Doesn’t seem to be any Ryan here. What d’ya wanna do next, kid?”

  I thought for a moment. “Call a cab. Do you know how much it would cost to get to Halton High?”

  “Mmm, it’s not so far. Ten bucks max.” He spoke to someone else now. I guessed into a cell phone. “Ah, yeah, would you send a cab to the east entrance of Fairview Mall. Five minutes? Thank you.” He spoke to me again. “I’ll take you to the exit. Green cabs are fast. One should be waiting by the time we get there.”

  It’s much quicker to walk when a security guard leads you. All the crowds part to let you through. Still, the guy was right about Green cabs being fast. The cab beat us. I could have made it back to school on time if only he’d been right about everything.

  “Halton High—here you are,” the driver announced when the cab rolled to a stop.

  Ten bucks in my wallet. I fingered the bill. The tens I always fold in half. I handed the folded bill over in the direction of his voice.

  “Hey kid, what do they teach you in school, anyway? Can’t you read? The meter says fifteen.”

  “Oh, great.” I shrugged my shoulders, suddenly exhausted with all the pretending. “You know what? I can’t read, I’m blind. Could you just let me off with ten?”

  “Hey, I gave at the office. If I let you off, I’d have to let everyone off. Equal rights, you know? Do you have a friend or a teacher who could lend you another seven? That would include a tip.”

  Could I do that? If I found someone really quickly, I could pay them back another day and my parents would never know. When you’re blind, can you find anything really quickly, though? “My mom works at Terraview Motors.” I sighed. “She’ll give you the rest.”

  But of course, I had to drive with him there and we interrupted her with a client during the paperwork of a sale, something she hates. And there and back cost an extra ten dollars, as well as the rest of the next period at school. Apart from that, Mom would never have had to know about the cane folded up in the backpack—everything could have been fine. I could have almost handled the whole thing myself.

  Almost.

  For my last class, math, I needed a teaching assistant to help, since I couldn’t see the board work and my Braille wasn’t up to par yet. We sat at the back and she had to speak slowly so I could work out the answers to the equations in my head. It sounded like someone explaining something to the school idiot. I wanted to throw my textbook in the direction of her voice. So much for being myself and blending in.

  After last period, a voice like silk spoke close to my ear.

  “Where did you go at lunch?” The tangerine scent of Sunrise, coupled with the fact that no one else cared where I was at any given time, confirmed that that the voice belonged to Maddie. I hated the way everything inside me lifted and brightened at the sound of her voice. I wished I could control it.

  “Where did I go?” I snapped.

  “Yeah. Ryan said he saw you playing Space Invaders one moment, and the next moment you were gone.”

  “OK, Maddie. Just picture me playing Space Invaders. How exactly would this be possible?”

  “Oh, my god, that Ryan’s such a liar.”

  “Uh-huh. He left me in the washroom.” I shook my head. “And I didn’t even have my cane.” I stopped, feeling my face turn red. Stupid. I didn’t want Maddie to know I needed one.

  “Well, you’re OK. That’s the main thing.” I heard Maddie’s sigh, like the soft rustle of leaves. Then she continued.

  “Rebecca thought for sure you’d gone off and…” Maddie stopped talking. She shouldn’t have stopped. She should have finished her sentence and then chuckled at the ridiculousness of Rebecca’s suggestion.

  “Gone off and what…killed myself? Geez, Maddie, in the middle of lunch hour? In Fairview Mall? I couldn’t play Killer Commando with Ryan, so the world became too much for me?”

  Maddie laughed nervously.

  The thing is, back when the bandages had come off the second time, I had thought of killing myself. But no good way had ever come to me. Could I drive myself off a cliff? Tie a noose and position a chair? No, I’d probably need an O & M instructor to help me. And then there had always been Maddie, her voice like silk, her touch like sunshine, making me feel like I was still worthwhile.

  “Or did you think I killed myself over you?” I wanted to stay angry with her, to stop wanting her back. “What a laugh. You saw all the girls hanging onto me at lunch.” Even to my own ears, I sounded pathetic.

  She touched my cheek. I turned away. I remembered once fingering a bag of cookies, wondering if eating them all could put me in a fatal coma.

  “You all think my life is so worthless just because I can’t see.”

  “I’m sorry, Kyle,” Maddie said, each word sounding heavy with regret.

  “Don’t be.” I yanked her hand from my face but then I found I couldn’t let go of it anymore. God, no one will ever want to share this darkness with me, I thought, and swallowed hard.

  Of course, I couldn’t see Maddie’s face, but she finally pulled her hand away. “Do you need help getting to the parking lot?”

  Not trusting my voice, I simply nodded.

  When Mom had paid the cab driver at lunch, she hadn’t said a word. She hadn’t wanted to make a scene, after all, not with a SUV sale nearly in the bag. And in the car she never liked to argue. “I can’t believe you,” were the only words she said to me the whole way home.

  Then, as she wrenched on the handbrake in our driveway, she started right in. “What were you thinking, heading off to the mall without your cane?”

  “I didn’t do that on purpose. I forgot it. There was a whole gang of kids—I didn’t need it, anyway.” I stumbled out onto the driveway and headed toward the door. She didn’t even help.

  “You always need it! This episode just proves it!” she yelled from behind me.

  “Not really. How much more would the cane have helped?”

  I groped for the doorknob. “I don’t know my way through the mall. I don’t know my way home from the mall. I thought a cab was the best solution.”

  “What if I hadn’t been in the showroom when you came? What then?”

  “I would have gone from office to office with a tin cup,” I told her. Mom was always in the showroom. She didn’t even get out for lunch, she liked her sales so much.

  “Oh, here, let me.” She pushed my hand from the doorknob. I heard the door creak open. “We all have to get on with our lives now,” she told me. “I need to know that you’ll never wander away again. I just can’t worry all the time.”

  I wanted to yell at her, This is my problem, not yours! Or maybe, How exactly am I supposed to get on with my life now? But there comes a point, whether you’re blind or sighted, when you just want the lecturing to stop. So you stop arguing and say anything you think will end the nagging.

  “Mom. Don’t worry. I’ll carry my cane everywhere from now on.”

  I hadn’t even decided yet whether I was telling the truth or not.

  CHAPTER 5

  Elizabeth and Beauty

  Good News, Bad News

  Unfortunately, the major blowout did not happen while I was walking with Scott. Mom had
decided to wait till Debra’s pregnancy was confirmed by our family doctor before even bringing it up with Dad.

  What with the five o’clock classes Mom taught, and Deb catching up with all her friends, it took till Friday for us to have our first family sit-down dinner. Friday was also the day the results became official. I could only guess which way it had gone by the special dinner Mom prepared. She served a rack of lamb, twice-baked potatoes and a squash casserole, all Debra’s favorites.

  Beauty paced back and forth, entranced by the wonderful smells. Debra, on the other hand, picked at her food as though searching for mold.

  “Crate!” I commanded when Beauty placed one big paw on Debra’s knee. She turned her huge brown head to me solemnly. I’d rather beg than steal, her golden eyes seemed to say. Then she turned back to Debra, ignoring me.

  “Beauty!” I snapped at her.

  Slowly and mournfully she removed her paw and padded over to her crate.

  “I don’t blame the dog. This lamb is delicious, Debra, have you tried it?” My father asked as he scooped another helping from the plate in the center.

  “No, no. I’m really sorry, I should have told you. While in L.A. I turned vegan.”

  “No eggs, no milk—at this time?” Mom screwed up her face in disbelief.

  At what time? Was Mom going to tell us all about the baby now? Or had the pregnancy test been wrong after all? Maybe with this feast Mom was celebrating no baby instead.

  She shook her head. “Debra, you really have to get your calcium and iron. You’re too pale.”

  I looked at Deb. Was she really any paler than usual? I mean, she used to wear white foundation, so with that smoky-colored bruise around her eye, she looked more colorful than usual, if anything.

  “Yes, of course, Mother,” Debra said. Why did she sound so testy? “I eat a lot of soy products. They’re really quite healthy. Very beneficial for a woman of your age, in fact.”

  Your age. Oooh.

  “I have some good news,” Dad suddenly broke in. Mom used to have a rule that we all had to share at least one positive experience at the table. She’d wanted less sniping, especially between Dad and Debra back during the great university debate: “Yes, you’re going.” “No, I’m not.” Obviously Dad must have thought Mom and Deb were closing in on a blow-up too.

  “What is it?” I asked, hoping his experience wouldn’t all be in his usual computer babble.

  “As you know, we had another re-org…” Dad paused as he ate some potato. “Mmm, I love the sour cream and cheddar cheese in here. You can’t eat these then, eh, Deb?” He reached over and stabbed into her potato, and dropped it on his plate.

  “No. But you shouldn’t, either. They’ll clog your arter-ies—” Deb started.

  “Is your position secure?” Mom broke in nervously. Last year’s re-organization of Dad’s department had left him without a job, at least for a while.

  “Not only do I have a position, but I’ve been promoted. Ten people now report to me.” Dad smiled at my mother and she smiled back.

  “Congratulations. I’m glad they finally realized your worth.”

  “Good going, Dad,” I said.

  “Ditto,” Debra added.

  “Let’s break out the wine!” Dad said, leaping up. “I think I have a really nice Chablis in the basement, saved for just such an occasion.”

  “None for me,” Debra offered. “It gives me headaches.”

  “I have to go out later, so maybe just a thimble,” Mom said.

  “Hey, can I have some? I survived half a week at high school.”

  “Yes, you may. Just get out the glasses,” Dad said and headed downstairs to hunt down the Chablis. It took him a few minutes, but when he returned he cradled the bottle like a newborn.

  “Where do we keep the corkscrew again?” he asked Mom as he placed his baby on the table. I set the glasses around it.

  “Third drawer down.”

  Dad rattled and pawed. “Don’t see it.”

  “Next drawer down, then. I have some good news, too.” Mom talked over the cutlery rattling.

  Here it comes, I thought, and took a deep breath as I listened.

  “The CBC has announced its annual poetry competition. They want a suite of poems, or about twenty minutes of reading. Since the girls were little I’ve always wanted to enter but never got around to it. This time I already have six linked sonnets that my students all love. Another two should be enough.”

  I let my breath out. Phew, obviously there was no baby.

  “Great, Mom. That’ll be a snap for you,” I said.

  “Got it,” Dad called, waving his corkscrew.

  “I have a few months,” Mom added. “Of course, it is marking time, and I want to shop with Debra for her wedding dress and trousseau. Who knows when we’ll be able to get together again for that?…Which brings us to some other really exciting news. Debra, I think it’s time to tell your father.”

  Wedding dress? Didn’t she know about Rolph and Deb splitting? Uh-oh.

  “Well, there’s good news and bad news,” Deb started. “I know we originally set the date for sometime in the spring and we had discussed June…”

  “You’re not putting the wedding off again,” Dad said as he twisted the corkscrew around and around. The little metal wings on the side lifted up, higher and higher. “You’ve lived together almost two years. By now you really must be sure of each other.”

  “Yes,” Debra said.

  I sucked my breath in. Dad stopped twisting the corkscrew. Mom’s mouth dropped open.

  Debra shook her head. “The thing is, Dad, I am really sure about Rolph now, and I know I don’t want to get married to him, ever.”

  Mom winced and threw up her hands as though giving up.

  “Was that the good news or the bad news?” Dad asked.

  “The good news is that I’m expecting a baby.”

  “Oh,” Dad said softly. He jammed the metal wings down and the cork came out with a soft pop.

  Woof! Beauty warned the cork from her crate.

  “Fill ’er up,” Mom said, pushing her glass toward Dad.

  I was about to push my glass forward, too, but then the phone rang. I ran to grab the portable from the counter.

  “Hello?” I walked with it to the family room.

  In the background, Dad grumbled something not quite loud enough to hear. Deb answered, and Mom yelled out, “You can’t raise a child by yourself!”

  Beauty slunk to my feet for protection.

  “Wanna come to the mall?” Alicia said on the other end.

  “You don’t even have a good education!” Mom continued.

  Beauty whimpered. I plugged my non-phone ear. “You bet. Meet me at the bus stop in five minutes.”

  “OK.” Alicia’s voice sounded tiny.

  Mom’s still sounded big and angry. “I’m not raising any more children. She’ll have to do it all on her own.”

  Beauty jumped up on me. “Don’t worry, girl. I’ll take you, too.” I slipped on her green jacket and hooked her to the leash.

  “I’m going to the mall with Alicia,” I called back to the kitchen in a normal tone. In our house, a normal tone just fades into nothingness, especially when it’s my voice.

  Beauty and I made our break.

  I felt pure relief when I saw Alicia at the stop. A friendly, non-yelling face! The bus pulled up almost immediately and we hopped on. Escape from the house of doom. But Beauty still seemed uneasy, pacing back and forth. “Settle, girl. Come on, lie down.” Beauty sat for a minute, then stood until I pushed her down again. Her ears flew up with every ring of the signal bell and sish of the brakes, and she panted really hard the whole way.

  “I think the arguing back home got to her,” I explained to Alicia. Then as we walked into the mall I told her what the fighting was all about.

  “Oh, my god. You’re going to be an aunt!” Alicia squealed, leaping onto me and hugging.

  Until she said that, I hadn’t really thought
seriously about Deb having this baby. “I…uh, me. I’m going to be…” I was Deb’s little sister. How could I be old enough to be an aunt?

  “What do babies really do, anyway? Cry?” In fact, at that moment we heard one screaming its head off in the babyGap store. How could anyone stand that sound?

  Alicia let go of me. “What do you mean, what do they do? They’re cute, Liz. They wear the most adorable things.” She turned toward the store where the crying came from. Beauty lifted her ears and strained at the leash, ready to rush over to the rescue. Alicia smiled. “I know how to make the whole experience clear to you. We need to go shopping.”

  So Alicia led us over to the baby store, with Beauty wagging and grinning, just as eager as Alicia.

  “Nice dog,” the saleslady told us, a sure sign she wouldn’t kick Beauty out. By law, guide dogs had to be allowed in all public places, but dogs in training did not.

  “Thank you,” I told her as we drifted farther in. We passed the crying baby, who seemed to be falling asleep on a bottle in its stroller now. The sleeping baby looked pink and sweaty and very breakable.

  “Isn’t this the sweetest?” Alicia stopped at a display and picked up a yellow velour sleeper with a big white duck on the front.

  “It’s soft,” I agreed, rubbing the material with my hand.

  “And on special. Part of our back-to-school sale,” the same saleslady offered. “Thirty percent off. Did you want help with the sizes?”

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  “That’s a twelve-month-size sleeper. This one is a newborn.” She held it up. Both Alicia and I stared for a moment.

  “My baby’s already into the twelve-month size,” the crier’s mom chimed in, sounding very proud. “He was nine pounds at birth, so newborn only fit him a short while.”

  Her son looked tiny! “We better take the twelve months.” I just couldn’t handle it if Deb’s baby was even smaller than Screamer Boy.

  “Shall I gift-wrap it for you?” the saleslady asked.

  “No, no, that’s OK.” I decided I would keep it in my room, to help make the idea of Debra’s baby more real to me.