Blindsided Page 13

  On the long bus ride back to school there was a lot to think about, and Natalie had to restart the recording several times. She still hadn’t gotten over the incident in the mall with Meredith. It blew her away that those boys thought they were lesbians.

  Reluctantly, Natalie returned to her homework and put on her earphones so she could listen to a tape of Chapter Five in the self-defense book.

  “You learned how awareness, intuition, and setting boundaries are your first lines of defense in avoiding an attack,” the tape continued. “Now we’ll discuss fighting back as part of your personal safety plan.

  “Are you committed to fighting back if you are attacked?” the tape asked. “Are you willing to risk being seriously injured in order to survive?”

  Natalie had never asked herself those questions before. She wasn’t sure how to answer.

  Then the tape issued this warning: “Don’t ever believe a criminal, whether armed or not, who says, ‘If you stay quiet, do what I say, and come with me, I won’t hurt you.’ Police statistics reveal that in situations in which an armed assailant convinces his victim to get into a car, the victim’s chance of survival is a mere two percent. . . .”

  Natalie turned off the CD player and tried to mentally recap the points made. Women who have fought attackers—and won—had several things in common. They were committed to disabling their attacker. They were prepared to be hurt. They acted as quickly as possible. They did not allow themselves to be taken to a second crime scene.

  “Facing Panic” was next. And panic was followed by yelling—how important it was to keep yelling during an attack, because it draws attention and keeps you breathing. Natalie clicked off the player again. It was scary to imagine a situation where she would face panic and have to yell her head off. The whole discussion was beginning to make her nervous. She thought of Miss Karen, her Braille instructor, who took two different buses to get to work every day—and then walked the last mile to school. It would be so easy for someone to take advantage of her. On the other hand, what were her options? Have a friend or relative take her everywhere? What if no one was available? The school receptionist sometimes waited two hours for the Paratransit van to show up. It was inexpensive and safe, she had once told Natalie. But who wanted to spend half their life waiting around?

  Being blind, it seemed, was a no-win situation.

  As if things weren’t bad enough, when Natalie arrived back at school, she walked into her room to find Bree already there, softly crying.

  “What’s wrong?” Natalie asked as she settled her duffel on the bed.

  When Bree didn’t respond, Natalie approached Bree’s bed, where she thought Bree was sitting, then made sure with her hand that there was an open space to sit down beside her. She put a hand on Bree’s back. “What happened?”

  “It’s Kirk.” Bree sniffed. “My boyfriend. He’s seeing someone else. I found out when I was home. He thinks because I’m blind now that I can’t see what’s going on! Well, I may not have a lot of friends, but I do have people looking out for me!

  “That’s not the only thing, Nat. When I got home, when I got out of Aunt Stina’s car, I used my cane to get in the house, and he was sitting there on the stoop waiting for me. He says, ‘What’s that?’ And I tell him, ‘It’s my cane.’ And he says to me, ‘Well, you ain’t takin’ that anywhere with me!’ ”

  The two girls were silent for a moment.

  “Bree, anyone who says that must not care very much for you. Not really. Because if they did, they would understand that you need that cane. In the long run, this is best. You don’t want to have to depend on him.”

  “You’re right,” Bree declared, surprising Natalie. “You know, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot. I want to learn everything, the way you are, so I don’t have to depend on a lowlife like him anymore. I’m serious. I told my aunt I was going to change and really try.”

  “Then we’ll learn it together, Bree. We’ll learn what we have to together, okay?”

  Another sniff. “Yeah. And Kirk will be sorry.”

  “From now on, we move forward.” Natalie surprised herself at what a good pep talk she could deliver. Amazing what a phony she was! Because hadn’t she kicked her own cane under the chair when Jake showed up at the farmers’ market?

  “From now on, Nat,” Bree repeated.

  A soft “okay” was all that Natalie could manage.

  The next morning it was pouring rain, but neither Natalie nor Bree realized it until they were at the front door. The dorm counselor sent them back to their room for raincoats and told them to check the radio for weather before they got dressed in the morning.

  “And tell Serena to hurry up or we’re leaving without her!” the counselor called after them.

  Natalie and Bree returned for rain slickers and umbrellas and, on their way back, Natalie turned toward Serena’s room and called in, “Hurry up! Or we’re leaving without you!”

  “I just need to find my umbrella!” Serena called back.

  Natalie stopped, mesmerized, and took several slow steps inside the door of Serena’s room.

  Serena stopped rifling through her closet. “I told you, I’ll be right—Nat, what’s up? What’s wrong? Why are you looking like that?”

  Natalie pointed to Serena’s bureau. “I think I can see your little plug-in Christmas tree. The one you brought from home. It’s all lit up.”

  “Oh, my gosh, Nat. You can see it?”

  Natalie walked toward it, holding out her hand until she had touched the tiny branches.

  “Whoa. That’s like incredible,” Serena said. She unplugged the tree. The lights went out and Natalie’s hand fell away.

  “Now they’re gone,” Natalie said.

  Serena plugged it back in.

  “Now they’re on!”

  “Nat!” Serena exclaimed.

  Natalie smiled with excitement. “What do you think this means?”

  “I don’t know. But we’d better get going, ’cause I do know what it means if that woman has to come and get us. Come on.”

  On the walk to breakfast, everything was back to normal—that is, no sight, just the gray screen. But what did it mean, seeing those lights? That her sight was returning? There was some recovery? As soon as she could, she would call her mother so she could phone Dr. Rose and ask him.

  In American government class, Natalie turned in the paper she had written over break. She had typed the entire assignment on her Brailler, even using the small wooden “eraser” to smooth out letters incorrectly punched. It had taken hours to finish the paper, in which she had concluded that she was in favor of changing the feel of currency. “Blind people should not have to depend on the kindness of strangers,” she wrote, “to tell them what money they have in their hands—especially if it’s money they earned.”

  At lunch, everyone shared stories of their vacations at home. Arnab couldn’t stop talking about all the wonderful, spicy Indian food he’d eaten. Bree complained about a killer headache she’d had, but didn’t mention Kirk. And JJ had greeted a new baby half sister. Natalie wanted to tell everyone about seeing the Christmas lights in Serena’s room, but she was afraid to jinx it. Every chance she had, however, she reached into her pocket to rub the pink stone. The biggest news at lunch came from the whispered rumors that Eve and Sheldon were “going out” now, and that they had even visited each other over the break.

  “Don’t you think that’s a little shocking?” Murph said to Natalie and Serena as they left the lunch table together. “I mean, she’s white and he’s black.”

  Serena stopped in her tracks. “What? Are you a racist now? In addition to being a moron? Like the color of someone’s skin really matters—especially to two people who can’t even see each other!”

  Natalie cringed at the “moron” part, but otherwise was glad this time for Serena’s quick tongue.

  “It makes no difference if you’re weak or strong! Or if you have a black belt in karate! Self-defense is a mindset!” Mr.
Lee told the girls eagerly assembled for gym class.

  He had them pair up and stand ten to fifteen feet apart. “If you’re attacked,” he said, “you need to be close to your attacker to fight back.”

  A drill followed: one girl remained standing while the other talked—and walked—toward her partner. “Your job,” he told the standing girl, “is to reach out when you think your partner is in striking distance and touch the crook of her neck. The spot where your shoulder and neck meet is called the Universal Reference Point. The URP. This is important!”

  After a few rounds, Natalie was able to tell when she was close enough to Bree to reach out and touch the URP on her neck.

  “Listen to your attacker!” Mr. Lee advised them while they practiced. “Hearing your attacker speak, or yell, gives you valuable clues as to where his head is located—and therefore where you should aim! Grab the URP with your nonstriking hand! This leaves the other hand free to strike back.”

  The girls rested for a moment and Mr. Lee lowered his voice. “You should know that the human body has many weapons of its own. You can use your hands, for example, to make a fist. The hard knuckle area is called the ridge. Feel how hard those knuckles are. Now open your hand. The area between your pinkie finger—that’s right, your little finger—and the wrist is called the blade.” From the sound of it, Natalie imagined he was making a hacking motion and hitting the palm of one hand with the blade of the other.

  “You also have the heel of your palm,” he added, making a different kind of hard, slapping sound.

  “You girls have fingers that can be used to poke—grab—rip—gouge—and squeeze!

  “Fingernails! Do you girls have good fingernails?” he continued, his voice growing louder. “They may be polished and pretty, but those fingernails are good for scratching! Also to stab, poke—and slit!”

  Natalie’s stomach knotted up. Using her fingers to slit? Slit what ?

  “Elbows!” Mr. Lee called out. “Elbows make good hammers! Feet can kick. Feet can push away, stomp—and scrape!

  “Knees!” he shouted. “Knees can be used to ram into an attacker’s body. Is the attacker behind you? Use the back of your head to slam into his face!”

  Yikes. Smash her head into someone?

  “Teeth!” Mr. Lee called out. “Use those teeth to bite!”

  Mr. Lee then recited a morbid list of body parts that were prime targets: eyes, nose, throat, solar plexus (the soft spot in your chest), ribs, knees, and shins. “Shins are a nerve sandwich,” he pointed out. “So kick that attacker’s shin! Scrape it with the side of your foot!

  “And remember! There are no rules when it comes to defending your life. Most men—trust Mr. Lee—don’t want to get kicked in the groin. Testicles are major nerve centers between a man’s legs.”

  Even though she couldn’t see, Natalie’s eyes opened wide. Was Mr. Lee telling them to kick a man between the legs?

  Kicking a man in the groin was not the only thing Mr. Lee encouraged. He also advised them to “grab those testicles. It causes even greater pain if you rotate that grip.”

  Natalie dropped her head, embarrassed. She wanted to tune out, but Mr. Lee’s voice was so compelling she couldn’t.

  “All right. Girls, stand up!” he ordered them. “Let’s practice kicking, grabbing, and punching an imaginary attacker.

  “Make a fist!” Mr. Lee hollered. “Send that punch flying! Rotate those hips for a complete follow-through!”

  Natalie went through the motions, but could she ever fight like this? She didn’t think so. It was like something in a movie, she thought, not something you’d actually do to anyone.

  Unless, of course, your life was on the line. But even then, could she really do these things?

  Halfheartedly she practiced; there was no way for her to know then that the biggest test of those skills was just around the corner.

  CROSSING OVER

  What did he say, Mom?” Natalie whispered urgently because no one was supposed to make phone calls from their rooms in the morning.

  “Dr. Rose said not to get your hopes up,” her mother said. When she sighed, Natalie braced herself. “Seeing the Christmas lights is not unusual. There may be a tiny bit of vision left to one side, a ‘temporal island,’ he called it.”

  Natalie held the phone to her ear and felt her heart drop down into the soles of her feet.

  “Nat, are you there?”

  “Yes,” she finally replied. “So none of my vision is coming back?”

  “Dr. Rose said that little bit may come and go. But it doesn’t mean anything, Nat.”

  It doesn’t mean anything. Unbelievable. How could it not mean something?!

  Natalie felt as though her emotions were on a roller coaster. Chugging uphill one day, then plunging downhill the next. A temporal island. Another disappointment. You’d think she’d be used to it by now.

  “Are you ready?” Miss Audra asked.

  A simple enough question. Natalie shrugged, but the answer was no, actually. She wasn’t ready. She would never be ready. She was just going through the motions.

  “Natalie, come on. This is important. This is your test. You’re basically walking by yourself to the Forestville Shopping Center. I’ll be with you, but I’m not supposed to say much.”

  “I understand,” Natalie responded. By then, they’d done the entire walk several times. Natalie wasn’t afraid, nor excited. She just felt—flat about it. She couldn’t even fake enthusiasm. After finding out the little lights didn’t mean anything, she hadn’t been able to rebound. All the way to the traffic light on Dunbar Avenue, Natalie tried to listen carefully as she swept her cane, moving forward. At the traffic light, however, after she pressed the button for the traffic light and waited at the curb, the nonchalance evaporated.

  She listened as traffic directly in front of her stopped. She listened as traffic to her right moved. This was her opportunity to cross. Extending her cane, she tapped three times to signal her intention, but her feet suddenly filled with lead and her wrist froze.

  Miss Audra said nothing.

  Natalie took another breath, then cracked through her fear to move her wrist. She tapped her cane again. Come on, you’ve done this before. It’s not that hard. Just do it and get it over with. But the sound of her own breathing filled her head and her heart thumped rapidly, high in her chest.

  All at once, traffic in front of her was moving again, while traffic to the right had stopped. She had lost her opportunity. Her shoulders sagged. She would have to wait for another cycle. Embarrassed, she pressed the button on the traffic light again and stood stiffly, biting her bottom lip.

  A few minutes passed. Miss Audra didn’t speak. When traffic in front of Natalie again stopped, and it was time to go, Natalie extended her cane into the road and tapped three times. She took a deep breath and forced one foot off the curb, then pulled the other cinder-block foot behind it. Miss Audra would tell her if a car was coming, right? Another step. She wouldn’t let Natalie kill herself. No way. She’d get fired. One more step and then she was moving, really moving, her cane sweeping quickly, until she reached the other side.

  “Good!” Miss Audra said.

  Relief poured out of Natalie and her heart thumped madly.

  Over the next half mile, Natalie knew there would be three smaller streets to cross, but no big intersections with traffic lights. Then, just before the entrance to the shopping center, a large utility box would be on the right.

  A dog barked, startling Natalie, and she jumped, bumping into Miss Audra. She hadn’t run into any dogs before.

  “It’s okay,” Miss Audra assured her, putting a hand on Natalie’s arm. “He’s fenced in. But remember, don’t act afraid. It would only excite a dog more. Now, lots of houses coming up on your left, remember? Most have fenced yards and short sidewalks leading up to their steps.”

  Natalie appreciated the reminder and continued until the sound of a plastic-wheeled tricycle thundering toward them ground their pr
ogress to a halt. She stepped to one side and held her cane in front of her.

  “Megan!” An older woman’s voice. “Stop! You’re scaring those people!”

  The noisy tricycle stopped. “What’s wrong with her?” a small voice asked. “Why does she have that stick, Mommy?”

  “Shhhhhh!” the mother said, urging the child on.

  “It’s all right,” Miss Audra whispered. “Pretty soon, that big cemetery comes up, remember? It’ll be quieter there.”

  Natalie had tried to make a mental map of the streets, the houses, the cemetery, and the shopping center and was trying to visualize where she was when her cane caught on something that tripped her. Natalie caught herself before falling and kneeled, gently examining the item in her way. It felt like an empty pizza box. She moved it off the sidewalk and continued, but a few steps later, her cane jammed into a large crack and pushed the cane’s grip into her stomach.

  “Argh!” Natalie exclaimed. “That hurt!”

  It made her a little angry that Miss Audra didn’t sympathize.

  Suddenly, the whap against metal. That would be the utility box. The shopping center was just ahead, on the left.

  “All right,” said Miss Audra, putting a hand on Natalie’s shoulder. “You have arrived. Remember, the Super Fresh is on your left. People will be pushing carts and loading groceries into cars parked along the right-hand side. Remember to go slowly and be careful. There are a lot of elderly people, some of them with walkers, who can’t move quickly.”

  Beyond the supermarket, Natalie had memorized the series of stores: first the liquor store, then the nail salon and the Raven’s Nest Bar, followed by the Rite Aid pharmacy, the Hallmark store, and finally, the Parthenon, the Greek restaurant, where they were meeting Arnab and his cane instructor, Mr. Greg, for dinner.

  The rest of the walk was easy, and when the air suddenly filled with the smell of bread and garlic, Natalie knew they had arrived. It never felt so good to sit down. A few minutes later, Arnab and Mr. Greg joined them. Introductions were made—Natalie didn’t know Mr. Greg—and Arnab didn’t know Miss Audra. Arnab took a seat beside Natalie, then reached over, under the table, to touch her arm and squeeze her hand. “Hi,” he said softly.