Different Kind of Beauty

by Sylvia McNicoll

  “Over there. Look quick,” Alicia told me when we stepped out of the store.

  “Where? What?” I swung my head around. But then I saw him. I swear my heart swelled up in my chest and pounded like thunder. My husband-to-be in another fifteen years: Scott.

  Then my heart shut down entirely and I couldn’t breathe for a moment. My husband with another woman.

  Beauty bolted forward. I dragged her back and ducked behind a pillar.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Alicia asked.

  I told her about what Scott had said and how he had kissed me.

  “So then why are you hiding?” Alicia asked. “Look, they’re heading for the food court and I’m feeling really hungry about now.”

  “Well, I’m not!” I argued as she and Beauty dragged me along. Beauty was dying to follow all those fast-food smells.

  The thing was I felt so stupid. I thought for sure, after that kiss, Scott would dump Gwen. I hadn’t seen the two of them together at school over the past few days, either. But I had read the kiss wrong. Gentle and sweet as it was, it obviously meant nothing to Scott.

  “Hi, Beauty!” Gwen called. There was no escaping the two of them now.

  “Excuse me, Miss?” I felt a tapping on my shoulder. A security guard faced me. “Normally I’d let you eat in here. But some guy complained—said he couldn’t eat around animals.”

  Kyle

  Orientation and Mobility

  “Y’all have a nice day?” Dad asked at suppertime after he told us how his big new case was going. Dad’s a Scottish American in touch with his roots, and his Highland Piper Boys CD comes out when he feels stressed, just as his Georgian drawl does.

  So with bagpipes playing in the background, Mom answered by recapping the day’s disaster. Ever notice how everything sounds sadder to the tune of “Amazing Grace”? Still, she ended with what she thought was a positive spin. “Mr. Dietrich bought the extra option package for the SUV, even with the interruption. I’m definitely going to make the Automotive All-Star team this year, and Kyle’s agreed not to leave the school grounds for lunch anymore.”

  “No!” I sputtered out a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “I said I would always take my cane.”

  “But you also said you didn’t know your way around, that your cane wouldn’t have helped anyway.”

  I stabbed at my chicken leg, but bones are impossible for me; the fork screeched across the plate instead. “Oh, Mom, come on.” I snatched up the drumstick and shook it at her voice.

  “Everyone heads for the mall at lunch. You want me to stay back at school like some freak?” I tore into the dark meat, caveman style.

  “I watched Discovery Channel the other day,” Shawna interrupted.” And they had this show on dogs that help handicapped people. Why don’t we get one?”

  “I’m not handicapped, I’m blind,” I said, trying for some more mashed potatoes.

  “But you’re chicken, too. That’s a handicap.”

  “Am not. Quit kicking my chair.” But she was right. I was a chicken—afraid of the dark, afraid of being alone and worst of all, afraid of dogs. You couldn’t trust them. One moment they were friendly, the next they would rip into your face.

  “Dad, they train the other kind of dogs, too—the ones that guide the vizzually challenged.” Shawna emphasized the last two words to bug me. “Peas at two o’clock,” she said to me in a lower voice.

  Peas are worse than chicken legs but both are in my favorite-food category. So I stuck some mashed potatoes on my spoon for glue and dipped it in at the two o’clock position on my plate, hoping that none of the peas would escape and roll all over the table like last time. I think two actually made it to my mouth.

  “Well, it seems to me you either get a dawg, or get to know the mawl better,” Dad said, his Southern drawl dragging his words out. “Ah mean, so that you can find your way around with a cane.” With his big trial coming up, Dad needed to settle this family thing quickly.

  The Highland Piper Boys played “Flower of Scotland” now. Over the whine of the music, I could hear Dad’s teeth clink into his fork—and both made my fillings itch. “And since you can’t get a dawg immediately, call your O & M instructor and get him to work with you at the mawl.”

  Orientation and Mobility, his quick-pick solution.

  “Until such time, your mama is absolutely right: you must remain at school at lunchtime.” Click, click, click. Dad continued eating, totally satisfied with his decree.

  The trouble was Jack, my O & M guy, was always overbooked. It might take forever to snag him for a session. Did I want to be stuck alone at a table in the cafeteria every lunchtime till forever?

  Mom rattled dishes and Shawna excused herself to go to the bathroom. The defense did not rest. Instead I smoldered, trying to think of an opposing argument. I ate slowly—didn’t want to miss my mouth, after all. And then I started again. “I never go to the mall by myself. You know that. I mean, it’s not like I can browse for new fashions, right?” No one argued against me. Great.

  “Really, it’s just a matter of sticking with whomever I’m with. I should have called out when I was in the bathroom. Then Ryan would have remembered about me and waited…” Still no rebuttal. Excellent, maybe I could win this one.

  “I’ll carry more money on me, just in case. Really, with the O & M instructors being so busy and all…well, I just don’t think we should waste Jack’s time.”

  Dad’s CD player was set on Shuffle. The Piper Boys played “Amazing Grace” again, slowly and sadly. Still no one said a word, which was when it dawned on me: no one was left in the room. I’d been abandoned again.

  “Sorry—what was that you said, Kyle? I just had to bring up the dishcloths from the laundry,” Mom called from the other side of the room.

  “Let me put in a new bag before you scrape your plate, Shawna,” Dad said, I guess having just returned from dumping the full garbage into the can in the garage. Shawna was the only one who excused herself from the table, I thought angrily.

  “Nothing, nothing.” I sighed. I immediately called CNIB, even though it was closed, and left a desperate message for Jack.

  Well, it turned out I was right. Jack really was overbooked. But at least he understood. As a special favor, he booked me a Friday-night appointment with Amber. Playing Blind Man’s Bluff in the mall when a lot of kids from school might be there wasn’t my first choice, but what could I do? When she introduced herself a couple of days later, at least Amber sounded young, although maybe a little too cheerful. If someone saw me with her, she might pass for a friend.

  Even though she had driven in a car, she insisted we take the bus together. “That way when your girlfriend wants you to go shopping with her you can do it without your mom or dad driving.”

  She assumed I had a girlfriend, and for a bright, warm moment I saw Maddie sitting beside me on the bus. If I could only master this O & M stuff, maybe Maddie could see me as more than a blind freak who needed her help and pity.

  For the first block, Amber gave me her elbow and spoke as we walked. “The bus stop is five blocks down, on the same side of the street as your house. We’re coming to the first corner. Drop my arm and use your cane, now, please.”

  Tap, swish, tap. I hated it, wanted to fling the stupid stick in the sky. I’d have given anything just to keep holding onto someone forever in that darkness. Maddie, Maddie, Maddie.

  Curb number two…three… At each one I had to stop and listen for cars. No traffic signals chirped a sure safe crossing for me at any of them. I half expected a car to plow into me whenever I stepped onto a street. Curb number four was the real biggie. It was a four-way stop with lots of traffic.

  “Take your time here. Cars tend to watch for each other instead of pedestrians, at this kind of stop.” Deep breath in. Amber’s right behind you, I told myself. She’ll grab you if you walk in front of a car.

  Suddenly Amber yanked at my jacket sleeve. My heart whacked into my spine as I jumped back.

&nbs
p; “Hey, relax. Where’re you going? It’s right here,” she told me.

  “But you didn’t say it was on the fifth block, you said it was five blocks away,” I snapped.

  “We count differently—sorry,” Amber said. “Bus is here, too,” she chirped.

  I heard the sish and squeal.

  “To your left, three steps up.”

  One, two, three; I stepped up slowly.

  “Good, good. You’re doing great,” Amber said.

  Louder—come on, let’s get everyone on the bus staring at me.

  “Feel for the ticket box, that’s it. Drop your coins in. Good!”

  “How do I find a seat?” I whispered to her.

  “Supper hour, Friday night–turns out they’re all empty,” Amber answered. “On your own, you’ll just have to ask. Normally, lots of kids will get off at your school and the mall. But if not, just tell the driver and try to get a seat up front, so he’ll remember to tell you.”

  Something I hated as much as my cane: relying on someone else to remember me. O & M will give you independence. Maddie, Maddie. Why did I feel so truly helpless? “I’ve been to this mall all my life,” I complained to Amber when we entered the actual building. “I think I was born here.”

  “Great. Then we can zip through this stuff in a snap,” she answered brightly. “What’s your focal point?”

  “Um, um, the water fountain,” I answered quickly, feeling my face heat up. It was where I used to meet Maddie, back when I could see.

  “Yup, good. But you know they do shut off the water sometimes. You can’t rely solely on the splashing sound. It’s just a clue. The structure itself has to be the landmark.”

  “Shut off the fountain, yeah, right.”

  The sunshine girl ignored me. “This is a pretty easy mall. One hundred and sixty-four stores. All pretty much in a straight line, with the two major ones on either end. Sears southeast and the Bay northwest.”

  There was no shortcutting Amber, easy mall or not. First we counted walls and named them by direction and number. Then she asked me to concentrate. “To your left is an ATM. Can you hear it?” Amber asked.

  “Uh-huh.” I heard the arrogant beeps cueing customers to key in more numbers, take their money and remove their cards.

  “Another sound clue,” Amber explained.

  “Yeah, they shut the ATM as often as the water fountain,” I grumbled as I kept going. Tap, swish, tap.

  “You’re veering to the right!”

  Clunk. I bumped into someone tall. “Sorry!” I called.

  “You just apologized to a pillar.”

  “Thanks for sharing, Amber,” I said.

  “My job. Hey, lighten up,” she jabbed my shoulder. “We all bump into things.”

  But you don’t apologize to them, I thought. This has to work for me. I chewed my lip as I walked away. Loud rap music suddenly blared at me from my left.

  You think you’ll always love me

  But your love might fade away.

  Yo, yo, yo, yo. Think about it!

  I say, think about it.

  I veered away quickly. I didn’t want to think about my love fading anymore.

  “That’s Patches, a unisex boutique. Lots of kids your age in there.”

  “I hate rap.”

  She ignored me. “Next a shoe store. Can you smell the leather?”

  I could. And then lots of sweet perfumey smells.

  “A Body Shop,” Amber continued. “How many stores would that be?”

  Oh, crap, could I remember? One hundred and sixty-four stores in this place. “Bank, boutique, shoe store, Body Shop. Four.”

  “Good memory! Water fountain, next.”

  I heard more voices. More people jostled me—or was it me bumping into them? At least I apologized to real people.

  “Excuse me,” for taking up space in your sighted world. “Sorry,” for living. “Pardon me,” for breathing your air. Get out of my way, I can’t see.

  The water rushed louder now—the sound clue, as Amber had put it. Bing! I heard the elevator ring and headed toward it.

  “You’re left-handed, aren’t you?” Amber said.

  “Why?” I snapped.

  “Just a theory I have. You know, people who have trouble telling left from right—I find they’re mostly left-handed. Can you feel for the button?”

  “I don’t have any trouble with left and rights,” I snarled as I groped and then pressed a warm square. A slight draft and noise signaled the arrival and opening of the elevator door. I stepped in.

  “Move right to the back,” Amber told me. “There’s a lady with a stroller coming.”

  Before I could move I felt a wheel roll into my ankle. I know I’m blind, but what’s your excuse? I shuffled backwards.

  Bing! We were off again. Chemicals, vinyl and leather, typing; two million women’s clothing stores, all smelling and sounding the same.

  Then I heard girls’ voices, loud and clear. It couldn’t be her—what were the odds?

  “Amber, quick! Give me your hand and just play along!” I whispered desperately as I folded up my cane.

  “Kyle, no. You don’t understand.”

  “Please! Just move in closer. Pretend to be my girlfriend.” I smelled a strange combination of cedar, coconut and wool as I put my arm around Amber.

  “Aw, come back here, cutie,” Maddie’s voice called. Who was she talking to? Suddenly, needle-sharp teeth sunk into my ankle.

  “Ow, damn!” I shook my foot hard and a weight flung off my leg. Yip! yip! Dog cries. Cedar, coconut and wool—pet store, that’s what those smells added up to.

  “Aw, poor puppy,” Maddie said. “Kyle, hi.” I could hear surprise and confusion in her voice. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your…aunt, is it?”

  CHAPTER 6

  Elizabeth and Beauty

  The Jackhammer

  “Who complained about the dog? Where is the guy?” Alicia demanded as she scanned the crowded food court.

  “Never mind, let’s just go,” I said, dragging her away. “I really didn’t want to sit with them anyway.”

  “You don’t get it, Liz. The more he sees the two of you together and compares, the sooner he comes back to you.”

  “Thanks, Alicia. But she’s older than I am. She’s sophisticated. And let’s face it, she’s hot.” I jerked the leash to get Beauty to hurry out of the food smells. “C’mon, Beauty, let’s go to the second floor and check out the pet store. You’ll be welcome there, for sure.”

  On our way to the stairs, I noticed the crowd kind of parting around this tall guy in the distance. Something about him looked familiar. He wore sunglasses—even though it wasn’t that bright in the mall—and dark clothes. “Oh, the guy from the park!” I said out loud.

  “Kyle Nicholson? The blind dude with the attitude? Haven’t you seen him at school?” Alicia asked.

  “No, I don’t think so. I didn’t know he was blind, either, till now.” I watched him fling his cane from side to side as though he was angry.

  “They say he went blind from diabetes just last year. Uh-oh, watch where you’re going,” Alicia said softly, just as the guy bumped into a pillar.

  “Geez, he’s bad with his cane. Why doesn’t he get a dog?”

  “I don’t know. He’s kind of cute, though. Why don’t we just head over there and ask him?”

  She would have done it, too, if I hadn’t pulled her up the stairs instead. “You know, Alicia, maybe he doesn’t like talking about it.”

  Still, I watched him continue on, with this older lady trailing alongside. My cheeks turned warm. I knew why I really didn’t want to approach him. In a dark, don’t-touch-me kind of way, he was cute. If I tried to talk to him, my face would turn even redder and my tongue would tangle around everything I said. Scott was the only guy I could talk to. Scott was the only guy for me. I just had to wait for him to break up with Gwen or for fifteen years to pass, whichever came first.

  Beauty pulled me toward the pet store
now, all excited. In the shop, cocker spaniel puppies wandered loose, yipping and wiggling, all happy to see Beauty. “Gosh, you’re such a big dog compared to them.” I said, stooping down. It made me sad to remember Beauty as almost that small. Only another few months before she had to go. “Aren’t they adorable?” I asked Alicia as one squatted and piddled beside me.

  She nodded. “See, you like baby dogs—and what do they do? They whimper all the time and you have to clean up after them. Just like a human baby.”

  I frowned as I patted the piddler. A baby would link Debra to Rolph forever. A baby would take up her time and take her away from me. The puppy licked my hand. Puppies always loved me. I knew how and what to feed them. I picked out and paid for a rawhide bone. “Here, Beauty. You can carry your own treat.”

  I sighed. Sometime soon I would have to go home, where a certain baby was causing a lot of yelling. Alicia came from a normal family; she didn’t understand. “What if I’m just no good with babies,” I asked as we browsed the other stores, “like I’m no good with day planners, boys, makeup or any of the other things normal girls seem to know?”

  Alicia shook her head and threw her arm around me.

  “That’s what you have your best friend for.”

  That made me feel better, and she helped me pick out a new tight orange T-knit. “Clashes with your hair and screams ‘pay attention to me.’ You’ll see, Scott will come around.”

  I had my doubts, but bought the shirt anyway. Before we left, we needed to use the ladies’ room, which wasn’t too far from the food court. “Shh, Beauty, behave!” I tried to slink around the tables and chairs so the security guard wouldn’t turf us out a second time. We made it. Beauty insisted on going into the stall with me and then she waited patiently at my feet as I washed my hands.

  As we headed out, the door flung open and the mystery guy from the park stepped in. I stopped short and Alicia bumped into my back. Beauty body-checked him, wagging her tail hello and waiting for the pats everyone usually gave her.

  Kyle gasped, backed off and shoved Beauty away.

  “My dog won’t hurt you. She’s only being friendly,” I told him. Dude with the Attitude. No wonder he was nicknamed that.