Chapter 1 The One I call J

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  • Dedicated to Kaitlin Conley
                                    

  Running away from... well, everything. Problems, family, places. The things I can only see in my years. A murder 5 years ago, being the only person to know. Seeing the people's mouths move, but can't hear what they're saying. No one believes that I know who killed him. The murderer knew no one would believe me. I heard nothing. I've never heard a sound there.

  I stand there, feeling like there should be something to provoke me to ring that bell. The same bell I rand a thousand times before. I knew I'm welcomed anytime. My hand tells me "It's O.K. He'll answer." while my brain tells my hand to keep to itself. Finally, after moments of consideration and looking like an idiot in front of what seems the entire neighborhood, I sign the letter "J", and, when my hands makes the curve, the sound I'll never hear rings.

 With that mysterious sound, I quickly put my hand on the door, waiting for the feeling of someone's yelling words I'll never hear come. I finally feel the vibration of vocal chords, saying "I'll get it!", and I know who they belong to. My only main reason to come to 511 Telescope Lane. To see my only friend in my muted world: Joel Maxwell Vogt. The one I call J.

  J opens the door with a glum face, looking down at my shoes. He starts to smile and his eyes meet mine, only because he saw his favorite pair of my shoes: Milk Chocolate Brown Converse high-tops, double-laced with crazy colored shoelaces, and, written in J's horrid handwriting but clear enough to read, "I'm deaf" on my left and "remember?" on my right.

  "Hey Z," J signs to me. "What are you doing here?"

 "Don't ask," I sign back, trying to speed up my signing. "Just come with me."

  "Why? Is there something wrong?"

  My hand aches from signing to fast. With my left hand, I sign "1", meaning "1 minute." I slide my periwinkle backpack off my left shoulder, open it up, take out our special lavender notebook, my Dixon Ticonderoga pencil, and start writing. 'No time for questions! Go upstairs to your room and pack an overnight bag. We're going to the piano shop."

 At first, J didn't think I was serious. His bright face got brighter, and he started to laugh. Then he saw the seriousness in my expression. As his face began to relax, he grabbed my wrist and guided me upstairs. He yelled the same phrase he always yelled when we went to the piano shop. "Me and Z are going to the piano shop overnight!"

 As J packed, I pulled out my Nintendo DSI from my backpack, scrolled over to "Flipnote" and clicked it, and started looking on Flipnote Hatena. Looking for something to tell J I know. I know his secret. I found out 3 weeks ago. I know he has a crush on someone. That someone is a certain deaf girl.

"What you looking for?" was on J's note once it hit my lap. Startled, I signed "Nothing" and kept looking for that special flipnote. That special flipnote to tell him I know.

 10 minutes passed and J was done packing. He again grabbed my wrist, and guided my downstairs. He stopped on his porch, looked to the ground then back up. He leaned down to pick up my pencil and our lavender notebook. He stood straight and handed them to me. He watched over me and I carefully put my pencil and notebook in my backpack. I paused for a moment, open the small pocket on the top of my backpack, and took out my light blue iPod. As I stuck my left earbud in my left ear, I made circles until I got to Three Days Grace, clicked the center, scrolled to their album "One X," and clicked the center again. Never Too Late began to vibrate in my left ear, and I put my right earbud in J's ear. I slid my iPod in my pocket. Our song played in his and vibrated in mine.

 J smiled and grabbed my hand, weaving his fingers with mine. He started guiding me down the street like we have done a thousand times before. Some snotty, teenage jocks in our grade, were talking on their porch, when the tallest one, Brian, saw J's hand interlocked with mine, looking like a complicated weave only succeeded by loom. Brian hit his hand against Keith's chest, and pointed at us. His other two friends looked where Brian was pointing. They all started laughing.

 "Oh look!" Brian shouted, still pointing. "Looks like Joel here has himself a girlfriend." Brian elbowed Keith, telling him to keep egging us with their stupid jokes.

"She's not my girlfriend!" J's hand tightens more and more as he screams.

"Oh, she's deaf!" Keith said with a frank smile. "If she's deaf, then why does she have an iPod? Little deaf kid here can't hear!" Ouch. That hurts.

 If only I could talk. I could hear the fear in J's voice and the bully in theirs. If only I could stand up for myself, J, and every other deaf kid in this world. If only I wasn't born deaf.

 "She can feel the vibration from the songs!" J screams back. I think a crowd's drawing. J doesn't notice. "What's wrong with a deaf kid having an iPod?"

 'I've had enough!' I thought as my backpack slowly drifts off my shoulder. 'This has gone far enough!' My hand untangles the weave in our hands.

 Where my backpack and J's empty hand lay, so does my deafness. I momentarily forgot about my disability. Adrenaline rushes through my body. My hands aren't hands anymore. Two boulders, clenched in fists, replace them.

 "Oh look!" Brian said. "The deaf kid's trying to defend herself!" His friends start losing it as he leans in so his face is a mere 6 inches away from mine. "Hi. What's your name? Oh yeah! You can't talk because you're deaf! I can say anything I want to you and you can't do nothing about it!"

 No one had to sign to me want everyone said. I can read lips notoriously. Keith came up from behind Brian and started saying something. Only, no one knows what he said. He got socked in the face by a deaf girl he just helped pissed off.

 A small smirk ran across my face. I just proved I can defend myself. J knows. Those jocks know. The people who made the crowd know. Though violence isn't the answer, I defended myself. The only problem is, Brian punched me in my face.

 Brian had a few seconds of glory before J got to him. Brian now has a bloody nose and some missing teeth. The crowd began to thin out as I quickly grabbed my iPod, seeing if the punched affected anything. It did. Our song. I can't feel the vibrations. Our song. I can't believe it. Our song is lost from me.

 J cautiously helps me up, sweeping off any dirt on my teal Aeropostale jacket. As he swept, I began thinking. Thinking about things I've been trying to forget. Then I remember something. J would want a hug. He always wants a hug whenever he helps me after being bullied. I forgot what I was thinking and focused on giving J a hug.

Just as J got the last of the dirt off of my jacket, I throw my arms around his neck, interlock my fingers together, placed my head between the crook my left arm and his head, and waited. Waited for him to respond. He only took a moment of shock, wrapped his arms around my midsection, and leaned his head on mine. Vibrations. I feel vibrations in my left ear. Our song is found.

 While we stood there, still linked together like chains, I began to remember the things I tried to forget earlier. The flashbacks. They’re coming back. That day. That horrid day. That horrid day... is coming back for a one night stand.

 

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