Blindsided Read online

  Natalie was frowning as she turned toward Serena. “I thought your right eye was your good eye.”

  “No. My right eye’s gone.”

  “The sight, you mean.”

  “No. The whole eye. It’s gone. Enucleated, if you’ve never heard the term.”

  “But—”

  “Hold out your hand.”

  “What for?”

  “Hold out your hand,” Serena repeated.

  Natalie opened her hand slowly, unsure of Serena’s intentions.

  Serena put something small in her palm and closed Natalie’s fingers around it. “Can you feel it?”

  “What is it? A stone?”

  Serena leaned in to whisper, “It’s my eye dummy. My glass eye!”

  Startled, Natalie sucked in her breath and put her other hand on her chest.

  “It’s okay. It’s not going to bite you!”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “What, then? You’re grossed out?”

  “No!” Natalie insisted. “It’s just that I’ve never—held anyone’s eye before.”

  “Go ahead. Feel it.”

  Delicately, Natalie touched it with her index finger. It was very smooth, rounded on one side, flat on the other, about the size of a peach stone—and about the same size as her HOPE stone.

  “That’s the one good brown eye you thought I had. My real eye, the one I actually see some out of—well, it’s not so great, and I’m sure I’ll lose that one, too.”

  “Gosh,” Natalie sympathized.

  “Yeah. Did I ever tell you why?”

  Natalie shook her head. “No.”

  “Okay. You ready for this one? Toxoplasmosis. Courtesy of my mother when she was pregnant with me. It’s a disease you get from cats, like from their litter, or from uncooked meat. My mother doesn’t even like cats, so she says it was probably an undercooked burger or something. Who knows? So anyway, bad luck is the bottom line. That’s why I get depressed. And that’s why I’m at the school in Baltimore. So they can be sure I take my meds, and keep an eye out—ha! so to speak!—that I don’t cut myself, too. I was a big-time cutter back in my public school. But you would be, too, if you had to deal with those kids.”

  “Serena. The whole strap of your pocketbook has safety pins on it!”

  “I know! They’re there just in case. You’d think somebody would say something, wouldn’t you? But honestly, I don’t think a single person has ever noticed. Anyway, I’m over it now. The cutting stuff. That was juvenile crap anyway. You know? My little cry for attention.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  There was a slight pause before Serena replied. “Because I want you to know that you’re not alone, that I truly understand how you must feel right now. And I want you to know that I’m sorry if I’ve ever said anything that offends you.”

  Natalie sighed. “I appreciate it,” she said, with a mere trace of a smile. “Especially since I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize for anything.”

  “Yeah, well, you know what they say: seeing is believing. So I guess you’ll never know for sure. You’ll just have to trust me. I am definitely apologizing.”

  Natalie’s smile became full. “Thanks, Serena,” she said. “And oh, here’s your eye back.”

  MIXED BLESSINGS

  Cold weather always came early to Garrett County, but there was one last farmers market on the Saturday before Thanksgiving. Baskets of apples, jugs of cider, and a colorful array of squash and pumpkins were displayed on hay bales. The Amish brought eggs and fresh, warm baked goods. Natalie’s mother had already scooped up two of their pies, as well as a few cream-filled pumpkin gobs for Uncle Jack. The flea market was open, too, with everything from Beanie Babies and hand-painted saws to secondhand dishes and old irons for door stoppers. Or so Natalie’s mother told her.

  Natalie, wearing jeans and a heavy sweater, moved her cane over the rough, uneven ground outside, staying close to her mother’s side. She was self-conscious using the cane in public, but she knew it was crucial now.

  “A few craftspeople are here. They have hand-knit baby clothing and blankets. And—oh, gosh—who in the world is going to buy a box of old LP records?” Her mother kept up a running commentary that was becoming a little too loud and embarrassing, Natalie thought. And why did she have to sound so upbeat? Was she getting some enjoyment out of this? But even as she thought it, Natalie knew she was just taking her anger out on her mother again.

  “Nat, the honey lady is here. She’s waving us over.”

  Natalie wondered if the honey lady would say anything about the cane, but she didn’t. She just rambled on in her Southern accent about what a nice day it was and how they simply had to sample her new goldenrod honey. “Y’all have to try it. I’m gonna insist. Here, I’ve got some little crackers. There you go.” Talking as if nothing was different. But everything was different. So what was she thinking? She must have been thinking something. Natalie wanted to see her face and her expression and the way she moved her hands. You could tell so much from the way people moved their hands. But nothing. A cracker with honey sat in Natalie’s mouth.

  Back at their van, cheese sales were brisk. Natalie was busy filling bags and inserting flyers all morning. Lots of people had questions about the cheese, and different voices filled the air. But along about noon, a familiar one struck a chord. “Natalie. It’s Jake. Jake Handelman.”

  Turning toward the voice, Natalie smiled. “Hi!” With her foot, she pushed the folded cane under her chair.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Okay, Jake. How are you?” It was weird running into him again at the market. Natalie wondered if it was possible that he actually came looking for her.

  “Things are great,” he said with his usual enthusiasm. “I’m going to the student council conference in Omaha next month.”

  “Congratulations!” Natalie told him.

  “Yeah. I’m excited, even if it is just Nebraska. But heck, I’ve never been anywhere west of Ohio.”

  “No, I haven’t either,” Natalie said. “It should be fun.”

  Jake’s voice became more subdued. “I wish you were going, too, though,” he said. “We miss you on the council, Nat. We miss you at school.”

  Natalie’s throat got tight. She wanted to tell Jake that maybe she’d be back next year—by senior year for sure—but couldn’t seem to get the words out. And she wondered if he knew she was blind now. Could he tell? Natalie would have given anything to have been able to see his face. Was he looking at her? Feeling sad? Indifferent? What?

  “Hey, so anyway, we love your cheese. My mom, she loves that new spread with the ginger in it.”

  Natalie nodded and smiled. “My mom invented it. I like it, too. My dad said a major grocery chain is picking it up for the holidays.”

  “Cool!”

  Another silent pause. Should she tell him she was blind? But maybe he was in a rush to go. Was he? Or did he want to stay and talk? Was there a customer waiting? How was she ever going to know these things?

  “Well, anyway, have a great Thanksgiving, Nat.”

  “Yeah! You too,” she replied, not really wanting him to leave.

  Then, two days later, in late afternoon, Meredith showed up. Natalie hadn’t talked to her for nearly three weeks.

  “She’s coming up the front walk now, Nat. Shall I have her come in?” Natalie’s mother asked. “She must really want to see you, coming over in all this snow. There must be three inches already.”

  Natalie sat on the living-room couch and pushed the mute button on the television’s remote control. “Does she know ?”

  A slight pause. “Yes,” her mother said. “I saw Meredith’s mother at the post office a couple days ago.”

  Suddenly angry, Natalie sat up. “What? Did you ask her to bring Meredith over or something?”

  “No! No, I didn’t,” her mother insisted.

  There was a knock at the door.

  Natalie sighed. An exasperate
d sigh.

  Her mother was waiting.

  “Yeah, sure,” Natalie finally said. “Go ahead and let her in.”

  Natalie turned the television off. As the heavy front door was opened, cold air rushed into the room, and Natalie heard her mother and Meredith greet each other. There was the stomping of boots and the unzipping of a coat. Natalie pictured Meredith in her burgundy parka—with a scarf. She always had a scarf knotted around her neck. Footsteps. Natalie could smell the snow that must have clung to Meredith’s long hair. The sleeves of her parka brushed against her sides and made a rustling sound as she came closer. Natalie stood, but wasn’t sure if Meredith was right in front of her or taking a seat.

  “I am so sorry, Nat,” Meredith said. When she spoke, Natalie could tell she was to her right, very close. Meredith sniffed and her voice had a nasal timbre to it, as if she’d been crying. “I had no idea you were actually going to lose all your sight.”

  “Yeah. Well, I guess I never wanted to believe it myself.”

  “And here I am, the world’s worst friend. . . . I’m sure you hate me.”

  “No.” Natalie took a breath. “I don’t hate you, Meredith. Actually, I understand. Richie’s like the first real boyfriend you’ve had.”

  An awkward, quiet moment followed.

  Natalie’s mother, who must have been listening, called into the room: “Nat, be sure to tell Meredith the exciting news!”

  Annoyed that her mother was eavesdropping, Natalie said, “Mom!”

  “What?” Meredith touched Natalie’s wrist. “What’s the news?”

  And Natalie couldn’t help but grin. “Nuisance is pregnant. She’s due at Christmastime.”

  “No way!” Meredith exclaimed. “Nat, that’s exciting!” She reached out then to touch one of Natalie’s hands. “Come on. Can we be friends?”

  Natalie nodded, and the old friends hugged for a long moment.

  A trip to the mall was not Natalie’s idea of a fun thing to do, but Meredith had begged her. “Come on. We always go shopping the day before Thanksgiving when we don’t have school. My mom said she’d drive us over to LaVale and drop us off. We can have lunch with Coralee and Suzanne, and then you and I can shop and talk and catch up. Please. It’ll be fun.”

  “I’m not sure, Meres. I can’t see anything.”

  “But I can describe stuff to you, and if you bring your Christmas list we could get a little of it done.”

  Nervous, Natalie licked her lips and pressed them together, thinking. “The other thing is that I’m not sure I can use my cane very well. I wouldn’t want to run into someone.”

  “Oh.” Meredith sounded disappointed.

  “I mean, I guess we could do sighted guide.”

  “What’s that?” Meredith asked.

  “Where I just hold your elbow and let you lead.”

  “Yeah! Let’s do that! It’ll be fine. Just show me what to do.”

  So at the mall Natalie carried her cane in a tote bag (just in case) and reminded Meredith to take it slow. “I’m going to tuck my right hand in around your elbow and walk maybe a half step behind. But you just walk normal—and let me know if something big comes up—like stairs!”

  Meredith laughed. “Okay. I can handle that.”

  The mall was packed. “I’m going to stay toward the edge,” Meredith said. “Fewer people.”

  “Sounds good,” Natalie told her.

  They hit all their favorite stores first: American Eagle, Aéropostale, Claire’s. “Look at these earrings,” Meredith said, putting a pair of enormous hoops in Natalie’s hand. “Can you tell how big they are? They’re so big, they’re gross.”

  “Oh, these sweaters are beautiful!” Meredith gushed a few minutes later. She took Natalie’s hand and guided it to the display. “Isn’t it soft?”

  Natalie nodded. “Very soft.”

  “Half off! And they’re turtleneck, Nat. You love turtlenecks. They come in green, a deep red like wine, and black. Do you want to try one on?”

  The thought of using a dressing room, and then not being able to see herself, was too much for Natalie. “No thanks,” she said. “Maybe later.”

  At noon, they met Coralee and Suzanne at Chick-fil-A for lunch. Each of the girls gave Natalie a hug.

  “Sorry about your sight,” Coralee said.

  “Yeah, that’s a real bummer,” Suzanne added.

  Natalie didn’t think either of the girls sounded overly sincere. But what did she expect? Would she rather hear them choking back sobs? No. No way. She had to give them some credit: at least they acknowledged her blindness instead of ignoring it. The four girls ordered their meals and sat down at a small table together.

  “What’s it like?” Suzanne asked. “I mean, can you see like light versus dark?

  “No.” Natalie shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “I heard that when people lose their sight, their sense of hearing gets better,” Coralee said. “Is that true?”

  “No, my hearing is the same. It’s hasn’t changed,” Natalie said.

  “It’s just that I’m more tuned into it. I use it more. It becomes more important.”

  “Wow. I think if I ever lost my sight, I’d get one of those dogs,” Suzanne said. “Why don’t you get a Seeing Eye dog? I would.”

  Natalie smiled at her ignorance. “They’re called guide dogs. And, well, for starters, you can’t just get a dog. You have to be a certain age, and you need to learn how to use the cane first, because what if the dog gets sick? What if you need to go somewhere and the dog is not allowed? You need to be able to get around without a dog, too.”

  Suzanne was quiet. Natalie hoped she hadn’t been too preachy.

  Natalie felt a slender thread of tension wending its way through the group. Was it because of her blindness? She didn’t want to ruin the meal. But she didn’t want to turn it into a big Q and A about being blind either, so she tried to reverse the conversation.

  “How about you guys? How’s school? Meredith—how are things with Richard? I mean, Richie?” she asked brightly, before dipping a chicken strip in barbecue sauce and taking a bite.

  “Good! He went to Richmond with his family to have Thanksgiving with his grandparents. They’re looking at a college down there, too.”

  “I forgot he’s a senior,” Natalie said. “How did you meet him anyway?”

  “At a party,” she said.

  Suzanne giggled. “It was a blackout party.”

  “Yeah. That was so weird, wasn’t it?” Coralee added. “You couldn’t see anybody! I was talking to this boy. I thought he was really nice and he turned out to be this really ugly creep!”

  The two girls laughed, but Natalie felt the blood drain from her face.

  Meredith made a noise, and both girls instantly shut up.

  “Ew. Sorry,” Coralee mumbled.

  “Yeah. We didn’t mean anything,” Suzanne said.

  Natalie tilted her face down. She stopped chewing, and the food made a lump in her mouth. How could they? She swallowed and wiped her hands on a napkin. So incredibly insensitive. Was it time to go? She wanted to go. Just go.

  “How much do I owe you anyway?” she asked Meredith, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. She reached for her wallet. Her mother had put two ten-dollar bills in it.

  “You don’t owe me anything,” Meredith said, pulling Natalie’s hand away from her pocketbook. “My treat today.”

  Coralee and Suzanne remained silent, and the four of them finished quickly.

  “That was stupid of them. I am so sorry,” Meredith apologized, her voice hushed, as they walked back down the corridor of the mall. Suzanne and Coralee had gone in the other direction. “They’re really assholes sometimes, you know it?”

  Natalie’s arm brushed against what she guessed was a potted plant. “Yeah. I do know it,” she agreed, beaming at Meredith’s comment. She’d known it for a long time.

  All at once, a warm feeling washed her face, and it struck Natalie that they must be in
the mall’s center court, under the skylight.

  They walked in and out of Payless, where Meredith was on the lookout for a new pair of black shoes, then drifted in front of Bath & Body Works for a free body lotion sample. “Ummm. It’s new: Rainkissed Leaves. Nice,” Meredith murmured. She held a tube up to Natalie’s nose, then put a dab on the back of Natalie’s hand so she could rub it in and try it. Resuming sighted guide, they left the store and walked down the corridor.

  Suddenly, a boy’s voice behind them called out: “Hey there, you two lovers!”

  Meredith stiffened. Her head swung around and then back. Natalie could feel the motions.

  “Is he talking to us?” Meredith asked angrily.

  “You two lesbos holding hands!” The boy’s voice came closer.

  Natalie’s mind reeled: did they think they were lesbians because she was holding Meredith’s elbow for guidance?

  “Can I have a smooch, too?” He snuck up behind them, making obscene little kissing noises.

  “Beat it!” Meredith spit out. She pulled away with a jerk and it made Natalie tighten her grip.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” Meredith said, quickening her step.

  Natalie was nervous walking so fast, but Meredith did not slow down until they were clear outside the mall.

  “Here’s a bench, Nat. Sit down,” she said.

  Natalie felt behind her and sat, letting go of Meredith’s arm.

  “Idiots!” Meredith muttered. She paced in front of the bench, and Natalie wondered if she was still watching for the boys.

  “I’m sorry, Meres,” Natalie said as she set her tote bag on her lap. She was not only embarrassed and angry, but sorry that Meredith was upset. “Did you know those boys?”

  “No! Never seen them before in my life! What a couple of jerks!”

  “Look, I’ll get my cane out,” Natalie offered, pulling it from her tote bag. “I’ll use that instead.”

  But Meredith was firm. “Let’s just call my mom, okay?”

  THE DYNAMICS OF FIGHTING

  Is fighting for you?” a male voice on the tape began. “You may find yourself in a situation in which someone won’t take no for an answer.”