“Lifting your eyebrows—is that part of the sign?”
Theo nodded. “Yeah. For all those kinds of questions—who, what, when, where, why, how.”
Alfonso’s expression changed as if a lightbulb had just gone on in his head. “So that’s why you raise your eyebrows at exactly the wrong time when you’re signing ASL!”
“I do?”
“Not all the time. But you know how you’re supposed to lower your eyebrows for those kinds of questions in ASL?”
“Of course.” It was one of the first things Theo had learned in studying the language, and the hardest to get into the habit of doing consistently.
“Sometimes you don’t.”
Theo let out a frustrated laugh-groan. “No wonder our professor kept looking at me like I was berserk today when I tried to ask her when the assignment was due.”
“She understood you eventually though, right?”
“It took a few tries.” Theo looked down at the table. “Sometimes I feel like I’m never going to learn.”
“You’ve been here three and a half weeks. No one gets fluent in three and a half weeks. Hell, I’ve been going back and forth to Nicaragua for almost twenty years, and I still have an accent in Nicaraguan Sign Language.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“Why not? Accents are charming.” Alfonso reached across and touched Theo’s forearm. It was just for a moment—hummingbird light—but it was enough to make Theo’s ice cream-chilled body go warm. “How do you say that in Dutch Sign Language, anyway?”
“What? Charming?”
“Yeah.”
Theo held both hands up, the thumb and forefinger of each hand forming a circle, the remaining fingers stretched open.
Alfonso repeated the sign. And then repeated it with another Dutch Sign Language word. “You’re charming.”
“Oh, shut up.” The warmth in Theo’s body turned to fire, burning his ears to a crisp.
“You’re especially”—Alfonso signed charming in Dutch Sign Language again—“when you blush.”
“You’re incorrigible. We should get back to the library.” Theo picked up their containers and slipped out of the booth.
“Oh, fine, be that way,” Alfonso said with a huff, but he didn’t sound put off. Just charmed.
They drove to Taos Pueblo that Saturday and stayed until it closed to the public in the late afternoon, then headed to an early dinner at an organic restaurant in Taos. Theo drank wine with dinner, which turned out to be a mistake. It had a tendency to make him melancholic and wistful, like he’d tried—and failed—to catch hold of something just out of reach.
He stopped drinking and waited for the feeling to go away as Alfonso finished his dessert. “You’re quiet all of a sudden. You okay?”
“It’s just the wine. I haven’t had any in a while and I forgot—how do you say it?—‘it doesn’t really agree with me.’”
“Yep, that’s how we say it. Are you going to be sick?”
What a mortifying question. “No. Nothing like that. It just makes me...” Theo searched for the word. He didn’t want to say ‘depressed’ or ‘blue.’ That would make Alfonso worry. “Drowsy. I’ll be over it soon.”
“Do you want to head back now? I know I said I wanted to go to the Rio Grande Gorge, but we can—”
“No.” Going back was the last thing Theo wanted to do. Going back meant saying good night to Alfonso and walking to their separate dormitories all the sooner.
Theo realized suddenly that it wasn’t the wine that filled him with longing. It was being here with Alfonso, and not quite having him.
They drove to the gorge and sat on the hood of Alfonso’s car to watch the sunset, backs against the windshield, arms barely brushing. The sky went from blue to orange to purple to black. Stars came out one by one.
“Would you like to stay here a little longer?” Theo said into the dark.
“On top of the car, you mean? Or in Taos?”
“I was thinking in Taos. A hotel.”
“Double beds, or—”
“One bed. To share. With you.”
Alfonso didn’t say anything for a minute. “Is this a one-night stand or an ill-advised summer fling?”
“An ill-advised summer fling, definitely. I don’t think I’ll want to stop once I get a taste of you. Not until my plane takes off in the air.”
“We only have two weeks left.”
“Two weeks is better than nothing, don’t you think?”
Another beat of silence, and then Alfonso’s voice. “Yes. I do.”
They found a hotel, pricey but worth it, on the edge of town. They left the bedside lamps on. Alfonso’s shoulders were strong and defined, his hard chest dusted in silver-gray hair, his stomach soft and giving. “Welcome to the middle-aged paunch,” Alfonso laughed, poking at his own belly when the last of his clothes were off.
“It’s charming,” Theo signed in his mother language, followed by another sentence that ended with his hand closing near his chin.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you are handsome.”
Alfonso raised his eyebrows. “You sure you’re not just saying that because you’re trying to get laid?”
“Yes. I thought you were handsome the very first time I met you. And hot.”
“Then why did you avoid me for the first two weeks of class?”
Theo smiled. That seemed so long ago now. “It’s exactly why I avoided you. I was young and foolish then.”
“And you’re not anymore?”
“No. I managed to get you in bed here with me. Pretty smart move, don’t you think?”
Alfonso kissed Theo and pulled him closer. Their bodies touched everywhere, from head to chest to cock to toe. “Definitely.”
They didn’t sleep much that night, but they weren’t tired in the morning, either. Their bodies ran on the rush that always comes with a new discovery. The three cups of coffee they drank with breakfast helped too.
Theo moved in with Alfonso for the remainder of the institute. Not officially—he kept most of his clothes in his own room, but he slept there because Alfonso’s room inexplicably came with two mattresses and they could set them on the floor, one next to the other, and sleep and fuck comfortably throughout the night. What would have been a reckless move in any other circumstance seemed the only wise choice to make under this one.
“Will we still be friends when you go back home?” Alfonso said one night, his breath warm against Theo’s scalp. “Or would you rather cut things off completely?”
“Friends,” Theo said, though he doubted his own ability to keep it to just friendship. Eventually, though, the hold Alfonso had on his heart would have to loosen. They would drift apart. They would fuck others and fall in love. They would move on.
That was the plan. That’s what they told each other when they kissed a tearful goodbye at the Albuquerque airport, and with less sobbing and more humor in their near-daily Facebook chats and weekly Skype sessions between Maine and the Netherlands.
Theo kept waiting for the contact to become less frequent, but it didn’t happen. They never ran out of things to say and sign to each other, even after the first six months passed, and then a year. Alfonso was a steadier presence in his life than any of the so-called boyfriends or girlfriends Theo tried to date—people who were younger than Alfonso and arguably prettier. But it didn’t matter. Even with their thick manes of not-gray hair, their six-pack abs and their wrinkle-free skin, they couldn’t hold a candle to Alfonso.
One Saturday in May when Theo got home so late it was technically Sunday morning, he turned on his computer and called Alfonso. It wasn’t their regular Skype time, but Theo didn’t care. His date had been disastrous, and it was no one’s fault but his own. And maybe Alfonso’s, just a little bit.
“Is everything okay? It’s kind of late over there, isn’t it?” Alfonso appeared on the computer screen. He was in his kitchen, stirring something in a pot on
the stove, his hair gloriously frizzy like it always got when exposed to humidity.
“Only two in the morning. Nothing for a young bird like me.” Theo knew his voice was dripping with sarcasm, but he couldn’t help it. He’d had enough.
Also, he had a plan.
Alfonso turned a knob on the stove. The flame beneath the pot extinguished. “You don’t sound okay.”
“Can we talk?”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“No, I mean really. About us.”
The images on the screen blurred as Alfonso picked up his laptop—or maybe it was his phone—and relocated to the living room. He sat on the couch. The camera steadied, centered on Alfonso and his damnable brown eyes nervously blinking. “What is it?”
Looking at Alfonso made it both easier and harder to say what Theo needed to say. “Do you love me?”
“Of course I love—”
“Not as a friend. I mean, are you in love with me? Because I try to fall in love with other people, but it never works. They aren’t you. And besides, I’m moving to Boston in the fall, and I looked on a map. Boston is only one hundred miles from Portland. Closer than Taos is to Albuquerque. We could see each other again, if you wanted to.”
Alfonso’s eyes went wide. Shocked. Like he’d just accidentally swallowed a live toad. “You’re what?”
“I’ve been offered a doctoral fellowship in Boston. They’ve been courting me for a while.”
“You never mentioned this.”
“I know. I figured you’d think I was doing it to be close to you, and then you would have told me not to do it, because I’d be throwing away my academic future for a relationship, when actually it’s just a convenient fact that one of the world’s best graduate programs in linguistics is only two hours from where you live.”
“Ninety minutes, actually. Commutable,” Alfonso said. Was that hope in his voice?
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Will my answer affect your decision?”
“No. I’ve already told them ‘yes.’”
Alfonso didn’t speak. Instead, he lifted his right hand from his lap and started moving it, first to his chest, then toward the screen, his palm opening, his fingers curling, then closing into a gentle fist that twisted forward and back.
Theo stared as Alfonso’s hands continued to move. But he couldn’t make sense of the motions. Most weren’t ASL signs he recognized, and the rest didn’t make sense when put together. “I’m sorry. I don’t underst—”
The meaning of Alfonso’s words struck Theo like lightning. They hadn’t been in ASL. They’d been in Theo’s mother language—heavily accented, yes, but his all the same.
“I love you. I want to marry you. This whole year. Always.”
Author’s Note
It’s always a challenge to decide how to represent another language in an English-language story. In the two stories that included sign languages, I adopted the common (but not universal) practice of translating signed speech into English, emphasizing that the words are a translation by use of italics. I strove to retain the sense and tone of the discussion I was imagining, but did not attempt to represent the grammar or exact vocabulary of any sign language.
American Sign Language (ASL) and Dutch Sign Language (Nederlandse Gebarentaal, or NGT) are separate languages but share some word similarities because both are historically related to French Sign Language (Langue des Signes Française, LSF), similar to how Spanish and Romanian are both related to Latin. ASL is not related to spoken English or the sign languages used in the United Kingdom, Australia, or New Zealand. Nicaraguan Sign Language is not related to any other sign language or to Spanish.
When writing in English, it’s common among American Sign Language users to capitalize “Deaf” to refer to a culture or cultural identity, and to write “deaf” when referring specifically to a partial or complete lack of hearing. Similarly, “Hearing” is often capitalized to refer to people or cultural practices, but not capitalized in medical terminology such as “hearing loss” or “hearing impaired.” I have reflected these conventions.
Last but not least, the section break icon used in “Reading the Signs” depicts the American Sign Language word meaning “I love you.” The sign looks like this:
Image © 2014, www.Lifeprint.com. Used by permission. For more American Sign Language (ASL) resources check out Lifeprint.com.
Books by Dale Cameron Lowry
Be the first to find out about new books and free reads! Join Dale’s reader circle.
Below are just a few of Dale Cameron Lowry’s titles. You can find them all at dalecameronlowry.com/books/.
Falling Hard: Stories of Men in Love
Love Unmasked: A Paranormal Love Story
Myths, Moons, and Mayhem: An Anthology of Paranormal Gay Ménages
Find more of Dale’s books at dalecameronlowry.com/books/.
Thank You Gift For Readers
Enjoy a free audiobook when you join my readers' circle at dalecameronlowry.com/news/. You’ll also be eligible for additional giveaways I hold on a regular basis especially for my readers.
Want to share Reading the Signs with friends? Please direct them to my books page: dalecameronlowry.com/books/. Or let them know about it by leaving a review at Goodreads.
Thanks so much for your support!
About Dale Cameron Lowry
Dale Cameron Lowry lives in the Upper Midwest with a partner and three cats, one of whom enjoys eating dish towels, quilts, and wool socks. It’s up to you to guess whether the fabric eater is one of the cats or the partner. When not busy mending items destroyed by the aforementioned fabric eater, Dale enjoys wasting time on Tumblr, listening to podcasts, studying anatomy, getting annoyed at Duolingo, and reading fairy tales.
Oh, and writing.
Dale began writing for fun at the age of eight and has been making up stories ever since, from overly workshopped literary fiction to off-the-cuff fanfic. Queer Mormons have a way of popping up in Dale's work. So do immigrants and emigrants, people with disabilities, multilingual folks, and others who live their lives navigating multiple cultures.
Previous careers include sign language linguist, grocery store clerk, journalist, gardener, and camp counselor.
Sign up for Dale’s newsletter at dalecameronlowry.com/news/.
Connect with Dale
Website: www.dalecameronlowry.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/dalecameronlowry
Twitter: www.twitter.com/DaleCLowry
Tumblr: dalecameronlowry.tumblr.com
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/dalecameronlowry
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/daleclowry
Instagram: www.instagram.com/dalecameronlowry/
Patreon: www.patreon.com/dalecameronlowry
Reading the Signs Page 2
