Authors: Annabelle Costa
When I think of how I used to get up there in front of huge crowds dressed in slutty, skintight outfits, my eyes caked in black makeup, shouting out lyrics because I couldn’t really sing. . . . Well, it’s not something I like to go around telling people. But at the time, I totally thought I was The Shit.
One night, a couple of years into the band’s trajectory toward failure, Cynthia’s Armpit was playing at some seedy bar in the village. It was the kind of bar where I had to take a trench coat with me to immediately drape around myself so I didn’t get raped the second I got off the stage. But within the crowd of would-be rapists watching me sing, I saw one guy who seemed incredibly out of place.
The guy was wearing a suit and tie, for one thing, rather than a wife-beater T-shirt. The suit looked expensive too. It was hard to see him due to the lighting in the bar, but he seemed really cute too, if a bit too clean cut. I could see him bobbing his head to our cacophonous music and I was pleased that a cute, well dressed guy was digging us. Or maybe just digging me. I hadn’t dated a cute, successful guy in . . . well, ever.
As soon as our set was over, I put away my guitar in its case and went over to say hello to the mysterious stranger. But before his face became clear from within the shadows of the bar, I saw the wheels on the ground below him and my heart leapt. As I got closer and saw those bright green eyes behind the rimless frames, I realized I wasn’t looking at a stranger. “Jason?” I said in amazement. “What are you doing here?”
He flashed that endearing half-grin. “Well, I came to listen to the great Tasha Moran sing, of course.”
I couldn’t help myself—I threw my arms around him in a great big bear hug, which he returned with equal eagerness. The hug lasted like five minutes, I was so happy to see him. When it was finally over, I dropped into the chair next to him. “It’s so good to see you!” I sighed. “How did you find me?”
He shrugged. “Our mothers live next door to each other. It wasn’t hard. Cynthia’s Armpit is the kind of name that bears repeating.”
I blushed. “I know. It seemed so cool at first, but now . . .”
“I like it,” Jason said. “You just need to make sure to copyright it before someone steals it.”
I slugged him in the arm. “Oh my God, shut up!”
Jason grinned at me. “It’s good to see you too,
Tash. Love the red hair.”
“It’s not too red?” I asked self-consciously. Yesterday I’d been at Macy’s and some old woman was shaking her head at me disapprovingly. A few years ago, I would have thrived on a look like that, but now it was beginning to bother me.
“Hair can never be too red, can it?” Jason asked, smiling. “Anyway, you can pull it off.”
I looked him up and down, confirming that his suit was as expensive as it appeared from afar. “You look like you’re doing well.”
He pulled at his tie. “Investment banking. I know, don’t say it.”
“Say what?”
“That I’ve sold out to corporate America to make money.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“Well, you’d be the first,” Jason said. “But this is all part of my plan to retire at forty and then do something really worthwhile.”
“Like what?”
“Christ, I don’t know,” he said. “Open an orphanage? Rescue lost puppies? I’m only 25; I’ve got some time to think about it.”
As Jason loosened his tie again with his left hand, I couldn’t help but notice the lack of a ring on his fourth finger. He wasn’t married. Actually, I was surprised. Despite his failure with girls in high school, I had always thought he’d meet some girl in college, fall head over heels for her, and they’d get hitched after graduation. Part of the reason I stopped writing to him was that I didn’t know if I wanted to hear about it when it happened. Not that I didn’t want Jason to be happy, because I did. But I felt like losing my best friend to another woman would be more than I could handle. It was easier to give him up voluntarily first.
“So,” Jason said, “are you done for the night? Can I buy you a drink?”
Our eyes met and for a moment, it was very clear that he hadn’t come here for the sake of friendship. My heart leaped in my chest as I contemplated my answer, but before I could say anything, our drummer Sonny plopped down next to me and threw a hand around my shoulder. Then, to make matters worse, he planted a big sloppy kiss on the corner of my mouth.
“Hey, Tasha,” Sonny said. “This guy bothering you?”
“No,” I said quickly, as Sonny started flexing his tattooed biceps. “This is my, um, old friend Jason.”
“Cool,” Sonny said. He held out his hand and Jason shook it. “I’m Sonny, Tasha’s boyfriend.”
Sonny’s statement wasn’t entirely false. We were sleeping together (and he gave me Chlamydia, thank you very much) and occasionally we had dinner or hit a party or club together. So I couldn’t really deny it. Especially since Cynthia’s Armpit was going through some inner turmoil recently and I didn’t want to do anything to upset the balance further.
“Oh,” Jason said. He seemed slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”
“We’ve got to go back on in five,” Sonny said, running a hand over his shaved head. He wanted people to think he was Michael Stipe, but really, he was just hiding his thinning hair.
“Don’t let me keep you, Tasha,” Jason said quickly. He glanced down at his watch. “I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow and I actually kind of need to head out soon.”
As I looked at Jason’s familiar face, I knew I couldn’t let him out of my life again. “Let me give you my cell number,” I said. “We could, um, have lunch sometime.”
Jason smiled. “That would be great. I’ll call you this weekend.” And he programmed my number into his phone.
Jason backed away from his table and wheeled toward the door as we were setting up our instruments again. Sonny’s eyes widened when he saw Jason’s exit. “Holy shit,” he said. “I didn’t realize that guy was crippled. I thought he was hitting on you or something.”
“No,” I said quietly, feeling a twinge of regret. “We’re just old friends.”
As promised, Jason called me that weekend and we had lunch on Sunday. We caught up on old times, but nothing more. Somehow if there had been a chance for Jason and I to be more than friends, the opportunity had passed us by. But that lunch succeeded in rekindling our lost friendship, and within a few months, Jason had been promoted back to Best Friend, a status he has retained to this day.
Which made it only fitting that he should be the one throwing my 32nd birthday party.
by Lucy May Lennox
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Kassie asked as she slammed the car door shut behind her.
Erik smiled down at her, his brilliant white grin reassuring. "Of course. You'll be fine." He jogged across the parking lot while
Kassie dawdled behind, even though the rain was increasing from a mist to a steady drizzle.
"I don't know. My signing still sucks. What if they don't understand me?"
Erik put an arm around her, hugging her to his lean tall frame. "Come on, you're not here as an interpreter. This is just a casual meetup. And since when have you been shy?"
Kassie
grinned despite herself, then looked up at the low-slung building before them. A sign over the door read Seattle Deafblind Center. She glanced up at Erik again.
"OK, but you'll help me if I get stuck?"
"You'll be fine," Erik repeated as he pushed the door open.
To
Kassie it seemed purely by accident that she ended up in this place at this time. She had moved to Seattle after graduating from college because she wanted to get away, to start over. She had chosen a small school in Indiana near home, but her father had gotten sick in her freshman year and died in her junior year, leaving her to sleepwalk through college in a haze of grief that prevented her from making any friends, let alone boyfriends. By the time she graduated she was ready to start over in a new place where she didn't know anyone. She found a job easily enough as an administrative assistant (well, secretary really) to the head of finance at the corporate office of a big name department store. The pay was alright, even if the job itself felt pointless and boring. The atmosphere in the office was decidedly stodgy despite the store's inept attempts to be edgy and hip.
It was because of her housemate, Erik, that
Kassie started taking American Sign Language classes at Seattle Community College. Erik was a CODA, a hearing Child Of Deaf Adults, and worked as an ASL interpreter. Learning ASL seemed like a good way to get involved with something more meaningful than her current job, but after over a year of classes Kassie was, if anything, even more painfully conscious of how far from fluent she was. From time to time she accompanied Erik to pizza nights and meetups at the Seattle Deaf Community Center, but while people there were nice, they always seemed a bit mystified by her presence. Inevitably someone would ask if she was training to become an interpreter.
No, I
just want to learn
, she'd reply, doing her best to make her signs quick and natural. Usually the other person would smile, but somewhat hesitantly, as if that wasn't really enough of an explanation.
If she signed,
I'm Erik's friend
, people assumed they were a couple, which seemed ridiculous to her because he was so obviously gay. But apparently it was the only way people could make sense of her presence there.
Still, she kept going with him every month or so. The
meetups, just casual gatherings to chat in ASL for a few hours in the evening, were good practice. Then one day Erik mentioned to her that he had been asked to attend a similar meetup, but for deafblind people. Impulsively, Kassie volunteered to go with him, but the thought of her inadequate signing skills was making her uncharacteristically nervous.
Kassie
followed Erik into a medium-sized meeting room with round tables and plastic chairs arranged around the hard linoleum floor, like a school cafeteria. A dozen or so people stood or sat eating pizza, just like the Deaf meetups she had been to before, except everyone sat much closer together, signing in pairs. Erik greeted several people with great animation, hugging them and introducing Kassie. Most of them seemed able to see her signing well enough to understand her, even some of the people carrying white canes. Only one woman put her hands on top of Kassie's as she spelled out her name.
As
Kassie started to relax and look around, she noticed a figure sitting off by himself, separated from the small knot of people. She watched for nearly half an hour, but no one approached him. She gauged him to be about her age. His eyes were closed and his brows pinched up in a frown, but even so he was strikingly handsome, with close-cut, glossy black hair contrasting with a pale complexion.
She nudged Erik, pointing toward him with her chin. "Who's that?"
"Oh, that's Jake," Erik replied. "Don't worry about him--his intervener will be here soon."
"His what?"
"Intervener, it's like an interpreter for deafblind people. Like Mandy there," he added, waving to a woman who was signing into the hand of another woman seated beside her.
"I'm going to say hello to him,"
Kassie said. It seemed wrong to her that one person should be excluded from the group.
Erik looked slightly pained. "
Kassie, you don't understand," he said. "Everyone else here has Usher's Syndrome. They've been Deaf all their lives--only started to lose their vision as teenagers or adults, and most of them still have some sight. They're all ASL native speakers. But Jake is profoundly deaf and totally blind from birth. I'm not sure he even knows ASL."
Kassie
stared at him, her eyes growing larger. "How can he not know ASL? He must know something, right?" she asked, a little shocked.
Erik explained, "It's hard to learn the signs if you can't see them. I think he uses a different manual alphabet that's easier for him." Seeing the look of concern on
Kassie's face he added, "Don't worry about him, he's fine."
Kassie
turned to look at Jake again. He didn't look fine to her. He looked bored and lonely. She knew how it felt to be on the outside, to have no one to talk to. What if he was just waiting for someone to go over to him? It didn't hurt that he was cute too. If they were at a party she would find some excuse to talk to him. "I'm going to say hello to him," she insisted.
"Try printing block letters on his palm, he might understand that," Erik suggested with a shrug.
Kassie squared her shoulders and marched across the room, daring Erik to stop her, but he had already turned his attention to someone else.
Jake did not seem to notice her approach his chair. He sat with his back rigidly straight, but his head dipped slightly down and to the left. Up close he was even cuter, with his strong, slightly triangular jaw. The contrast between his glossy black hair, slightly grown out on top, and his pale skin was startling. His eyelashes were dark and thick too, although his eyes opened only slightly, showing a line of white.
Kassie waited for a moment, but when he still did not give any sign of noticing her she tapped him on the shoulder. Jake jumped so high she nearly retreated, overcome with guilt for having startled him, but he was already holding out his left palm toward her. Realizing it would be even more cruel to walk away, Kassie extended a trembling finger and wrote very slowly in the palm of his hand, H-E-L-L-O.
To her extreme surprise, he saluted her with the ASL sign for
hello
, then added,
My name is Jake
, in rather jerky, hesitant signs. At least that's what she assumed he meant; rather than spelling out his name, he made a name sign, tracing a sort of J against his chest with his pinkie finger.
Kassie
made to introduce herself as well, with his hands resting on hers, realizing only too late that when she gestured towards herself, she brought his hand directly onto her breasts. Jake seemed to realize the same thing--he breathed in sharply and flushed from his neck to his hairline, bright pink splotches standing out against his white cheeks. Flustered, Kassie tried again, this time only moving her hand halfway.
My name is K-A-S-S-I-E
, she signed, fingerspelling her name then adding the name sign Erik had given her, a K at her right temple, a reference to her short, curly blond hair.
Jake did not reply, so she made the signs again, even more slowly, but he kept tugging her hands towards him. She gently tugged back, but that only seemed to agitate him. He brushed his fingers over her palm, then made some rapid signs she couldn't follow. She stared at him helplessly. He sighed in irritation as he repeated the signs, the splotches on his cheeks turning darker red.
This time Kassie picked out
C-A-R-T-E-R
, but that was all. What is carter, she wondered, feeling increasingly panicked. She glanced behind her, trying to spot Erik, but instead a small balding man with round glasses set atop a hooked nose suddenly appeared and insinuated himself between her and Jake. Before she realized what had happened, he pushed her aside and put his hands under Jake's. Immediately they began signing back and forth rapidly.
Kassie
shifted from foot to foot, unwilling to end their conversation so abruptly. If you could even call it a conversation, but still, it seemed rude to walk away. "Umm...excuse me, but who are you?" she asked the interloper.
Without pausing his signing with Jake, the man gave her a sour look. "I'm Joel Carter, Jake's intervener," he snapped.
"Oh, of course!" It seemed so obvious now. "I'm Kassie," she said, fingerspelling her name again and adding her name sign at the end, so he could repeat it into Jake's hand. "I'm a friend of Erik's. I was just, um, saying hello to Jake."
Carter passed along the message, then said, "Jake says hello."
Kassie watched their interaction curiously. Carter was not using any ASL signs or fingerspelling she recognized. Jake held out his left palm flat and at an angle, while Carter tapped and brushed it in different places with his fingers, sometimes straight or bent, sometimes one or more than one finger at a time.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Carter, but do you mind telling me what system you're using? Erik said Jake doesn't know ASL, but I guess he was wrong about that.
Anyway it looks like now you're using something else. I'm just curious," she finished lamely, realizing she was starting to babble.
Carter was not pleased with her question. "He knows some basic ASL," he answered shortly, "but we're using the
deafblind manual alphabet."
"Oh, I see."
Carter stared at her but did not say anything more. After a moment Kassie realized what was happening: Carter didn't want to talk to her. He wanted her to go away, but being an ethical interpreter he was not going to say anything to her he would not also sign to Jake.
"Well, um, ok, nice to meet you, Jake,"
Kassie said, and patted him on the shoulder as Carter interpreted. Again Jake jumped a bit, and Kassie fled back to Erik on the other side of the room.
For the remainder of the evening
Kassie stuck close to Erik, signing briefly with a few people, but for the most part feeling like an observer. At the Deaf meetups there were always lots of people, and she rarely had a problem finding someone willing to let her practice her ASL. But here she realized it was hard to sign to more than one person at a time, and even harder to initiate small talk with a stranger. She never realized how much she relied on catching someone's eye to begin a conversation. She ended up chatting with one of the interpreters about her ASL class, although she knew her teacher would scold her for using her voice.
Back in the car , Erik asked, "So what did you talk about with Jake?"
"Nothing," she replied truthfully.
"I told you his intervener would show up," Erik said as he pulled out of the parking lot. "But he is kind of a
hottie. I don't blame you for wanting to chat him up." He turned to wink at her.
"Oh my God, what are you talking about?"
Kassie protested. "Not everyone is a horndog like you."
Erik just laughed. In the two years they had been living together they had grown close, even though initially they only met through Craigslist. Erik was the ideal housemate, a good cook and fastidiously clean, even if he was kind of loud and liked to play techno turned all the way up. After feeling alone for so long,
Kassie was glad to have someone to joke around with. She liked going out with him to gay clubs where she could dance however she liked, and no one hit on her. Not that she was against dating--she had attempted a few relationships, but somehow the guys she met all seemed self-involved and shallow.
But even though Erik was fun, he definitely had his own life that didn't always include her, and she tried not to be too clingy. She tried to find activities that would get her out of the house more, and suddenly she found she was running around all the time.