God gave me Voice

Chapter 1-1987

         The balmy air outside filled my house. I watch as our tattered red curtains move back and forth in the living room. My head lay against my arms on the kitchen table. My mother held her palms against each other with her head thrust upward as she prayed for our small meal. I watched her, quietly whisper the same blessing as she has done for our food all of my life. Except during holidays when the entire family comes over and her prayers seemed to have extended quite a bit. I figure it’s because our relatives are listening. When she finished and put her hands down in one swift motion, I raised my hands and rapidly shut my eyes as if I had been praying along with her. I’m not sure if she noticed. My name is Joel Harper and I’m deaf and mute. I’m 8 years old, I live in West Virginia with my mother and father. My father works in New York. He delivers for some sort of newspaper. I don’t see why he couldn’t do that down here. My mother treats me well. Except this summer I’ve been extremely lonesome and bored. Nothing but puzzles and books to read. If I had known about my best friend’s vacation plans then I wouldn’t have been at all excited about summer. Mom tries to help. She tries to be my new best friend but I miss him. I don’t talk with my dad at all, only when he’s home. The sign language is what makes him try to avoid conversing with me. It’s hard. It’s the extra effort. It’s easier just to avoid talking with me all together. Mom learned the language with me but my father is not entirely familiar with it yet. "Joel.” My mother bursts me from my bubble. My hands were still praying. I had forgotten to stop. “Joel, why don’t you go to your room and brush your teeth. Then you can play outside till you’re hungry." I do as I’m told. After brushing my teeth I lie in my bed. My bed lays directly beside the window. In the morning if the sunlight comes through just right I wake up with a sun burn on half my face, kind of like how my head was in direct sunlight now. I didn’t move. It felt good against my face but only for a minute because it started to burn so I changed position so that my feet would feel the suns warmth and my head dangled down the other side of my bed like a rag. I keep signing my mom I want a new bed but she says I still haven’t outgrown this one. She’s right. I have barley grown at all this year. Aother thing about me is that I can read lip too you know but I can tell she feels weird talking to me sometimes. I can tell a lot of things. I can tell my father would like not to have to try to talk to me. It’s the pressure. Not knowing what to do when he’s left alone with me and no mom to translate. To never try unless necessary. I can tell he doesn’t think it’s right that he has to try at all. Talking to his son should be like breathing. He wants to come home to his kid and for once just talk. I just can’t do that.

I don’t mind being deaf it’s just that I mind that almost everyone I know is not deaf. To be honest my world is just like yours except my life has been put on mute by the controller. My mother says I was born deaf so I guess God put my life on mute. If I was able to walk into a store and tell the cashier what candy bar I would like without them having to call my mom for translation then I wouldn’t mind being deaf at all but It’s the way everyone looks at me in the store. Why do they put the candy behind the register anyway. I didn’t always get upset about the fact that I was permanently deaf. It was just the more work I had to do to communicate. Any other kid would ask for their candy bar in 10 seconds and it would take me 10 minutes, more if my mom wasn’t around. Some people would get mad because I would hold up the line. Other’s felt bad and would buy me the candy bar them self but I didn’t want that. I wanted to be one of those 10 second kids who asked for what they want, get it, and pay without any problem. My feet. There cooking. I lifted my legs out of the giant square of sunrays entering my bed room. I need to at least ask mother for curtains. Now my head was warm and my feet were burning. The ceiling fan in my room hasn’t worked since we moved in. It has slowly collected dust and now it was turning green and black. Once when I spun it around using my hand it was stained for three days and my room was filled with unbreathable air. Maybe I should go for a walk.