What I Wouldn't Give to Be Whole

As I entered the library, Mrs. Patricia Wagner, the school librarian I'd always known as Pat, waved at me, two familiar words crossing her lips.

"Hello, Lark."

A grin formed on my face, and when I was within her reach, she wrapped her dainty arms around my thick frame. I squeezed her as tightly as I could without breaking any bones or damaging the sketchbook I was carrying. I loved Pat's hugs. They were warm and comforting, exactly the thing I needed after that strange episode in the hallway.

Pat stepped back and pushed some of my hair behind my left ear, then made motions with her hands, talking to me in sign language.

How did you get so pretty in three months?

My only reply to that was to roll my eyes. I've missed you.

It's been a long time. Pat smiled at me again.

As well as the librarian, Pat was the deaf student aide, which was how I'd gotten to know her so well. In my freshman year, we had walked together to all my classes, and sat by each other, like best friends, only she was a mentor instead of a distraction. Now that I was in my second year of high school, I didn't require so much help. I could read my textbooks and take notes and write questions down if I had any. In all honesty, I didn't need to spend a whole hour every day with Pat in the library, but I did enjoy it.

I have to finish alphabetizing. Do you want to help? We can catch up after.

I nodded. I loved the library. I loved everything about it. An already-quiet room full of nothing but books, page after page of sentences and words and letters in a language I could read and comprehend, but never hear. I wondered what it would be like to hear the sound of my own name. Lark. It was one of the only things I could lip-read at the time, but I had no clue what it sounded like. I couldn't dwell on it though because I knew I would never hear it—I knew I would never hear anything—so I decided that it must have been beautiful or my mother would not have chosen it.

Organizing all the new books into shelves, Pat and I both grabbed hold of the same book, the last in the box. She released her grip on it and watched as I put the book away. When I faced her again, she signed, Okay. I promised. We can go talk now.

Pat ushered me into the unoccupied room she used as her office and closed the door behind us. Motioning for me to sit down, she rolled her computer chair out from behind her desk and set it up directly across from the chair I sat in.

How is today going so far? Pat asked.

I shrugged. Nothing real interesting has happened yet. Someone bumped into me and knocked me over on my way here. I think he's new.

Are you all right? Is he?

I'm fine, but he seemed a bit disorientated. The boy he was with, probably his brother, was talking for him, but he couldn't tell I was deaf. I think he was embarrassed by the way he fell on me. I didn't need to explain. Pat knew what I meant.

I'm sure it was an accident. I know you didn't hear him apologize, but I bet he did.

I nodded, somewhat unsure.

Pat asked, How was your summer?

Not bad. I didn't really go anywhere. How was yours?

I'm old, she signed, smiling. I don't enjoy summer the way I used to. Didn't you go swimming at all?

I shook my head. I'm not a good swimmer.

It just takes practice, that's all. What about walking?

I went to the park once with my sketchbook, but I left after it got too crowded.

What were you drawing?

Flowers, I told her, passing her my sketchbook. As she flipped through the pages and admired my work, I added, There aren't many of them near my house. Just trees.

These are very nice, Pat signed, closing my sketchbook and handing it back. It's a shame you couldn't have drawn more. Have you read any good books?

Yes, but no new ones.

Well, then you'd better check out a few before first period ends. Did you see any you liked while we were alphabetizing?

I nodded. I think so.

Let's go then. She frowned as she signed, Our time is much more limited than last year.

I nodded sadly.

Pat stood and held open the door for me. I'll help you pick out a book.

So Pat and I went searching through the shelves. I checked out two new release fantasy novels and one of my favorite classics, Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities.

The bell rang, Pat signed suddenly.

Until tomorrow, I signed back. With a wave, I clutched my books to my chest and hurried off to my next class, for the first time completely and utterly alone.