London Harmony: The Pike (4 page)

She grinned bashfully back at me and then rolled her eyes. “Sorry.  I just realized that this is the longest conversation I have had with anyone who isn't family, except for Katy, and I'm doing all the talking.”

I tilted my head back and laughed.  Well, it came out as my wheezy breathy sound.  I grinned at her and pulled her hand to my stomach and hugged it, never letting go of her hand.  I knew if I did, she'd lose her confidence and retreat back inside herself.

To keep her from staring at her hand in mine, I pointed at my eyes with my other hand then out to the crowd.

She nodded in understanding and said, “Yeah, it's kind of fun to watch people.  Especially when they get drunk and stupid.”

I nodded and in a brazen move winked at her.  We sat like that for an hour.  I just basked in our contact.  I was wondering what had gotten into me.  This was the first time I had dared act on my attraction to girls, and this pixie didn't seem to mind.

We were laughing more often than not.  She broke into a giggle fit when I pointed out a senior who had a bushy mustache.  I let go of her hand and made walrus tusks, which sent her into a delightful giggle fit that made my smile grow.  Something was missing.  Ah!  I grasped her hand again.  I couldn't get over how... right... it felt.

I had an insane thirst for information about the itsy bitsy woman, I wanted to know more about her.  I needed to know more.  So I pointed at her and shrugged.

She blushed and looked down as she said, “You don't want to know about me.”

I grinned and lightly slapped her cheek to get her out of the self-doubt spiral I could see her dipping into.  She looked up and I was again drowning in her eyes.  What a wonderful way to go.

I gave her a reprimanding look and she closed her eyes for a second and nodded.  Then she started telling me everything about her life.  I would occasionally make hand motions at times to prompt more out of her, or to show my agreement with things.  She even asked me about my experiences in the same areas.  She seemed to be able to understand what I was trying to tell her like we were on the same wavelength.  I had never felt so in sync with anyone in my life.

It started there, I wanted to be able to actually talk to her but for some reason, I didn't want to use the synthesizer.  So I made her work for it, I handed one of the cards I carry with finger spelling instructions on it.

Over the school year, I would hunt every party I could find in hopes that Leigh would be there.  She was always there in the back, being a wallflower.  The terrified look of a bird about to take flight would disappear into a smile each time she saw me, and her finger spelling improved with each party, and she started learning ASL.  I refused to give her my name until she 'earned' it by being able to speak with me.  So she called me Amber because of my eyes.

By the end of our freshman year, I didn't think I could survive three months of summer break without seeing her smile and she was getting very good at speaking with me.  So I caved.  I gave her my real name because she had earned it, and I asked her to vacation with me here in Issaquah to work at Silent Bob's.  It is sort of our tradition now.

I pulled up to the worker's cabin, breaks squealing and grinding. Another maintenance issue I have yet to address.  She slid in and looked at her feet before turning that smile of hers, which can power me for miles, on me.

Leigh reached over to turn on the radio and then rested her hand on my leg like she always did.  I silently wished I had an automatic so I could hold her hand as I drove.  She said and signed, “To the stockade?”

I chuckled at her as we pulled away from the lodge.  I quickly signed, “It won't be that bad, you don't need to speak to anyone new if you don't want to.  Besides, Mrs. Z was a nice lady and I'd feel bad if we missed the wake.”

She nodded and looked at her other hand that she was nervously rubbing on her leg to get the sweat off.  “I know.  I liked her too.”

With that settled I navigated the streets and looked at the freeway on-ramp on the other side of the Interstate, then down at the dashboard and thought, “Hmmm... what do you say, Gerty?  Give it a try?”  Normally we would head south to the 900 and cut down and around through Renton.  Decades of strain on the little four-cylinder engine had taken a lot of the pep out of Gerty and it was hard to coax her to freeway speeds at times.  So we stayed on the back roads and highways most of the time.

We were going to be late since it took us an hour and a half to get to Pike Place on the back-roads, if we chanced the freeway, we could shave an hour off of that and be there when things started.  I gave Itsy a maniacal grin and she took her hand off my leg and put it on the dashboard like she was bracing herself.

She mocked without signing as I drove under I90, “Are you sure about this?”  She always seemed to know what I was thinking.

I nodded as we turned onto the on ramp, the engine straining to get us up to speed.  She chuckled. “Do you want me to get out and push?”

I signed quickly after shifting into fourth.  “Smartass.  Gerty can do it, she just needs...”  I thought a moment and finished, “A run at it.”  I crinkled my nose and she gave me such a beaming smile I almost forgot to look back at the road.  She was so much fun when she felt comfortable with someone.

About three years later, we were up to fifty-seven.  Cars were rocketing past us in the left lanes.  I caught Itsy grinning sarcastically and signing, “People are going to think some old lady who can't see over the wheel is driving.”

I sighed and replied one handed, mouthing the words so she could catch it all.  “She's doing the best she can.”

She just gave me a nose crinkle and cranked the radio.  Arabella and the Beasts were singing ‘Motel Rendezvous.’  She started singing along at the top of her lungs.

I just sat back, nestling in my seat and listened to her.  She was possibly the most introverted person I have ever met.  But once she knows you, and music is playing, she transformed.  I could always see the joy in her eyes as she let the music inside of her.

The first time she sang in front of me, my jaw literally dropped.  It took a minute before I could close my mouth.  She had this tone to her voice that was something genuinely unique and polished.  It was like she was channeling Joan Jett and Taylor Swift at the same instant.  There was a hard biting edge to her voice that was smoothed over with honey and sweetness.

I started thumping the steering wheel and the window, occasionally the roof to create more music to accompany her and Bella.  I could beat box a bit without needing vocal chords.  We turned the rock fusion music coming over the radio into something new as we always did.  I had no voice so this was my voice, it was how I sang and accompanied my pixie.

We laughed when the song was over and I loved the twinkle in her eyes, she was truly happy when she was in a protective cocoon of music.  I shut off the radio and grinned at her and wiggled my eyebrows.

She smiled back and looked around and started ad-libbing a song as I gave her a beat, tapping an old Snapple bottle in the cup holder between thumps on the door panel to get a tinging accent.  The tag line she made off the cuff was, “Slow in the fast lane.”  It was a funny and sarcastic tune.  It always amazed me how she could just take abstract ideas and just forge a song out of them out of the blue.

The scariest thing was that the girl could rap too, that was just odd to see her do since she was so self-conscious, but her anxiety just melted away when she had this much fun.  I sometimes recorded her with my iPhone to listen to later.  When I play it back for her she can't believe it is her, she always says, “That isn't how I sound in my head.”

When she finished we both laughed, she seemed to love my wheezing chuffing.  I can't tell you how refreshing it is to have someone accept all your flaws and treat them as if they are an amazing thing.  I've never felt self-conscious around her.

We pulled off the Interstate and down into downtown Seattle and I stuck my tongue out at her.  She only grinned and said, “Very mature Ash.  Yes, we made it in one piece.”

I just gave her a smug look and she just shook her head, trying to suppress her grin and laid her hand back on my leg.

For a Monday, the city center was unusually busy and we had to park down in the bowels of the parking garage on the north end of the market.  My girl laced our fingers and pulled me up the endless levels of stairs.  Elevators scared her.

About a jillion steps later we emerged onto the street level at the crowded North Arcade and then she let go of my hand and grabbed my arm and hugged into my side as she looked at her feet.  I started signing with my other hand and mouthing the words to force her to look up.  “They are just people.  I've got you Itsy.”

This promoted a shy smile.  She loved it when I called her that.  She replied without signing, “Ok... Amber.  You better not leave my side.”

I mouthed, “No promises.”

She squeaked and slapped my shoulder as I grinned like a loon.

We got to the Post Alley buildings and went into the north one and down the hall to the Pike.  A large sign hung on the door that read, “Closed, private gathering.”

I pushed the door open and peeked my head in, good Lord, the place was packed!  There wasn't much room in the little bakery to begin with, but it was almost shoulder to shoulder people.  Itsy started breathing faster and I just laid a hand on the ones she was hanging onto my arm for dear life with.

I signed and mouthed, “It's just like the keggers back at school.  It's just you and me, nothing else matters, ok?”

She nodded but was still a little panicky.  But then her eyes widened and she looked like she was about to pass out.  I followed her gaze and my eyes about bulged out of my head.  Satin Thunder was here!  And... and... dear lord, Mandy Fay Harris!  J8 was over talking to Zoey!  How... when...

I shook my head and tried to calm myself a bit.  I remembered the wall of Polaroid photos that Mrs. Z had in the kitchen, of her with all sorts of famous and infamous people in the music industry and movers and shakers of the local communities.  I just never put two and two together that maybe she actually knew these people and they weren't just pictures of opportunity when famous people passed through the market.

We automatically gravitated to the back wall, where we both felt safer.  I was self-conscious, not really introverted like my girl, but the people gathered here were so intimidating.  One of Zoey's twins, Max, spotted us and came chugging over with two glasses of cola.

The girl was full of energy as she handed them to us and signed smoothly like she had been doing it all her life, “Hi Ashley and Leigh.  Mom said you'd be coming.”

Of course, she actually had been signing her whole life since she grew up in a home by her Aunt Anna, who was deaf...  Not to mention a congresswoman.

Then suddenly the reason for Mandy Harris being here crystallized, since she was married to Anabella West.

Leigh relaxed a little with a familiar face.  Max was always so chipper, Zoey said that her cousin June cursed her with her outgoing personality.  I'd like to meet this mysterious June character one day, the way Max hero worships her makes her sound larger than life.

One thing about the girl, was that she didn't seem to pick up on any of Leigh's visual cues and just ignored the anxiety and spoke to her like she would a good friend and that did wonders for my girl's self-esteem.

I signed with sorrow painting my face. “I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”

Her bright mood dimmed a bit as she nodded.  Zoey saw us and smiled as she weaved through the crowd of icons like it was just any other group, purposefully pausing to bump the back of Kimi Solomon's knee to make her almost stumble as she passed.  The tall Native American singer's perpetually stoic face broke into a grin at her.

Zoey stepped up to us and grabbed one of my hands and one of Leigh's and gave a little squeeze before dropping them and signing without speaking. “I'm glad you two could make it.”  Then she looked around almost sadly and added, “I don't know what is to become of the Pike now.  I hope I can convince McKenzie to keep it open.  I've come to love the place.”

I nodded, she always seemed enthusiastic about the Pike.  I had thought she was Mrs. Z's business partner but perhaps not, the way she was talking.  She looked at me then for a long moment at Leigh, giving her a reassuring smile then said out loud as she signed, “Let me introduce you two around.”  Then she reassured Leigh, “I promise it will be painless, then you two can use the kitchen if you feel overwhelmed.”

Leigh just nodded and tightened her grip on my arm.  Zoey dragged us around in the most surreal edition of Who's Who I had ever been a part of.  I think I had a goofy smile permanently plastered on my face.

I was surprised that almost half of them could sign.  Unfortunately, it is rare to find someone who can sign in the outside world, which makes it imperative I always carry my phone with the voice synthesis app or a pen and paper with me.  Less so since I met Itsy since she translates for me.  I was pleasantly surprised that none of them tried talking slower or louder like a lot of insensitive people who think I'm slow or deaf because I can't talk.

May Leigh forgive me, but Skylar Roth was just... wow.  For a middle-aged woman, she looked so... cute?  But it was her British accent that made me go weak in the knees.  Not to mention, those colorful tattoos covering the burn scars on her face and arm made me touch my throat and wonder if I could pull off something so spectacular.