Between the Barn and the Stage

34

After I accidentally made a red line on the wall, we decided that running with uncapped sharpies was not a good idea. Chatham covered it up with a picture on of his newly adopted siblings drew. It'll give us time before his mom finds out.

"So, uh, this is permanent marker." I said, looking at my sharpies.

"Really? I thought they were Crayola washables." Chatham told me, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, so...don't you have an interview or something tomorrow?"

Underneath the color, I'm pretty sure he paled. "Uh...LETS GET THE HAND SANITIZER!!!" he shouted, dashing from the hall. I followed him, and I laughed when he went digging through an old book bag. He held up the hand sanitizer like it was the most precious thing, and dashed to me. "Behold, the magical solution."

"That works with pens, not sharpies. I mean, you can show your gay pride tomorrow. Then you'd be saving a lot of gay and lesbian children some scorn."

"Again, I said bi, not gay." he muttered. I was pretty sure I wasn't meant to read his lips when he said that, but I had.

"So, uh...now school?"

"Why would that be?"

"Out of order?" I offered, and he laughed. I can't get rid of the twinge I got every time I saw anyone laugh and didn't hear it. I noticed it a lot, but now it was hurting me more than normal. I looked away, and yet again my gaze dropped to my sharpies. I held them like Wolverine claws, and all of them were a different shade of grey. I capped them all and handed them to Chatham, who very quickly detected my change in mood. He started talking as he walked beside me, but I can really only have a conversation if I can see their mouth. Chatham realized this too and stopped talking.

I went to his balcony and watched the koi pond below. "Do you think being deaf bothers me?" I asked, not turning my head. I could feel wind whipping my hair. It would look pretty cool if I didn't have marker all over my face. "It does. A lot. But do I hate being deaf?" I asked, again not turning around. "What do you think, Chatham? Do I hate it?" I asked. I could feel him beside me, and I didn't know if he was talking. I closed my eyes and the cold wind nipped my nose. "I don't hate it. It's part of who I am now. But do you want to know something? Sometimes it really hurts me. A lot. Do you want to know the worst part? I think I told you. Over a month ago."

I tilted my head skywards. "I can ignore when people talk. When they yell. The silence is easy to fill with the memory of sound. But laughter? It's this big, gaping void. I can't fill it in. And it hurts even more when I laugh, too."

I finally opened my eyes and met Chatham's eyes. He looked...confused. Worried. But mostly confused. I smiled. "But it doesn't hurt so bad if I close my eyes. I used to listen to music to help me cope with pain. Now, I enjoy the silence. It's not that hard. Close your eyes, too. It's more peaceful." I said softly, leaning on the cold metal railing. His nose was turning pink and rosy, and I'm sure mine looked the same.

I tilted my head and closed my eyes. I hated doing this half the time, and the other half I loved it. The odd feeling I got of nothing-ness. I took a deep breath. It was nice right now. I can almost imagine the sounds that should be there. I let out my breath and opened my eyes. Chatham was looking at me.

"You didn't close your eyes." I pointed out, crossing my arms. He rolled his eyes, put his hands on his ears, and closed his eyes. He looked really peaceful...if you got over his motley face. I got out three sharpies and made the bi flag overtop the gay flag. His eyes shot open, and I stuck my tongue out in response. I capped the sharpies and backed away from him as he reached for them. I hit the railing, so I leaned my hands behind me. Sadly, he was a foot taller, which meant longer arms, which means he just had to lean over and grab them.