Blinded

Even if it was only noon, I was bored out of my mind. At least I was out of my mind; all I could think about was Jacob, so being out bored out of my mind was a good thing.

“I‘m going outside,” I announced to Cara. She was in the extra room and I was sure she could hear me. I didn’t stick around to hear a response.

I was happy to smell the damp earth, the woodsy breeze the wind blew into my face, and I sighed a satisfied sigh. With the letter in hand I sat on the edge of the porch. I so wanted to venture out into the forest again, and I so wanted to know if it was exactly like my dreams. That made me curious to find the man in my dream that just happened to have the same features I felt on Jacob yesterday.

There I was thinking of Jacob again. Groan. I decided to get up and walk out towards the unknown forest once again. I hadn’t been out here since Jacob and I ran into each other. Dumbtastic, I’m thinking of him again. I pushed my legs forward in frustration and because my adventurous spirit was coming out. I couldn’t ignore the voice - Jacob’s voice, strangely enough - warning me that I could get lost out here so I began counting my steps, like I did the first time I came out here. I stopped cold; I counted the steps I took prior to my stop, and counted my steps as I sauntered forward.

Things were the same with every step I took: Tree, rock, stump, moss; I always had a hand on a tree, always tapped a rock with my foot, always heard the squish of wet leaves and the crack of twigs underneath my feet. This is when I wished I had and used a cane, like most other blind people. My dad never thought I needed one, which is why I’ve grown accustomed to not having one with me. I always used my senses, my hands, and my feet to learn about my surroundings. I think I’ve strengthened my memory because I had to remember voices, rooms, and how many steps were on stairs and how many steps it took to get from this destination to that.

I stopped when I had taken one hundred steps. It was the same amount of steps I had taken when Jacob ran into me last time I was here. I was careful when sitting down, making sure there were no surprise woodland creatures where I was about to sit, and remembered that when I was ready to go, I just had to go to my left and it was straight on from then. I wondered why I wasn’t worried at all.

I pulled the letter from my back pocket. I couldn’t read it, but I just about had it memorized. It was the letter from my mother, the one she left for me when she left. I stroked it and wished I could feel the letters she had written. Knowing the letters and words she had written wouldn’t do me much use since I couldn’t read. If she had written it in Braille then that would have helped me. I just sighed and continued to hold onto the crumbled, weakening paper. If I wasn’t careful it was going to rip at the crease where it is always folded at.

I was mad at my mother; being the grudge-holder that I am, that isn’t much of a surprise. And what is even more dumbtastic is that I hardly remember her. The redheaded woman I dreamt of the other night did have the same face as her. Since I only know a limited number of faces, I suppose my subconscious just gave the mystery redheaded woman my mother’s face, but not her hair, eyes, or voice. My mother didn’t have ruby eyes, red hair, or a high-pitched voice that was almost like a child’s voice.

Something snapping broke me out of my thoughts and I jumped. I surmised it was a twig that had snapped, and since twigs don’t snap on their own that means someone or something was close by. My heart pounded. I finally realized that coming out here was a bad idea.

I heard low growling. That was my signal to get up and go. I turned to my left and began counting in my head, my counting in sync with my footsteps: Onetwothreefourfivesix. I did trip, and I panicked. That would ruin my counting because I wouldn’t know if that took off a couple steps or added. When the growling got closer I walked faster and then I thought, Wouldn’t my counting faster add to the number of steps I was taking? Groan. I just continued to walk forward. When I ran into the side of the house or tripped onto the porch, I would know I made it home.

I heard the shuffling of leaves, the snapping of twigs, and then it was quite for a few moments. I still walked forward. Then I heard someone call my name - or growl my name angrily. Either way, I recognized it.

“You‘re an idiot, I hope you know that,” the deep voice said to me as it got closer. I had clung to a nearby tree. “What the hell are you doing out here?” He paused for a moment. “Treasure hunting? A freaking piece of paper won‘t do you any good.”

“It - it‘s the letter from my mom,” I told him. He hasn’t been this mad at me before. It frightened me a little. “I just wanted time alone so I could, I don‘t know, think about her.”

Jacob sighed a frustrated sigh and grabbed my hand. “If you keep coming back out here,” he snapped, “you‘re going to get yourself killed. Or worse.”

He muttered the last part under his breath, like I wasn’t supposed to hear it. It made me worry and it also made me curious. I know I have heard him say that before, I just couldn’t remember where, how, or when. I just tried to keep up with the fast pace he was pulling me at and tried so hard not to trip. I didn’t want to be dragged out of here but I knew if I fell he wouldn’t stop to help me up. He would drag me if he had to, as long as he got me back to my house.

“I don‘t want to go back,” I told him. “Not yet.”

He stopped abruptly and I ran into him. “I‘m not leaving you out here alone, stupid,” he snapped. I was startled because he was so close. He inhaled deeply through his nose. “Why don‘t you want to go back?”

“I came out here so I could be with this letter in peace,” I admitted. “I haven‘t heard this letter being read to me in a while.”

“And who did you expect to read this to you?” he mocked. “A freaking leech?”

“There are leeches out here?” I asked curiously. That was odd; I thought leeches were only in swampy areas, not in damp forests like this. Of course, I wasn’t the one who knew that much about animals, so I took his word for it.

“I‘m not leaving you out here alone,” Jacob told me after he ignored my question. “And it‘s not like you‘re strong enough to really stop me from taking you back. I am a lot stronger than you.” The two of us sighed. “How much do you really want to stay out here with that letter?”

“For some reason, a lot,” I answered softly. “I like it out here. It‘s so calm, so peaceful -”

“- don’t forget dangerous,” he added, but it wasn’t meant to be humorous.

“And I was trying to take my mind off of other things,” I admitted. “I guess I know why you called me stupid. I can‘t read it anyway.” I got an idea. “Do you think you can read it to me?”

I hadn’t realized he was still holding my hand until he dropped it to my side. He did it like he just realized it himself, too, or he was shocked by my question. “Why?”

“You‘re not going to leave me alone,” I pointed out, “and I don‘t want to go back to my house just yet. Do you want to stay out here with me?”

He was breathing heavily, but he made no other sound. He was pondering things, maybe even thinking of how weird I was. He exhaled loudly and I felt him slip the letter from my hands. For some strange reason my heart thudded loudly and I was utterly happy. I resisted the urge to hug him mostly because I knew he didn’t like to touch me. He always flinched away.

“Er, we can sit down, I guess,” he told me, unsure of what he was doing now. “Are you sure you want me to read this to you? I mean, this is personal for you, something your aunt should read.”

“I don‘t want to go back inside just yet,” I reminded him. “And I don‘t care how personal it is.” I pursed my lips. “If you don‘t want to you can just tell me. You said yourself you‘re stronger than I am, so you can just drag me back to my house.”

The paper crinkled. “But you want me to read it,” he assumed. My lips pursed again. “I guess I will. I can afford a few minutes.”

I cleared another spot for myself and I felt Jacob sit next to me. Our shoulders barely touched, and when they did, he slowly moved it so we weren’t touching. It was cold, so I wished he would keep his arm against mine because he was so warm.

“’Dear Mariabella,’” Jacob read. “’You probably won‘t understand why I‘m leaving until you‘re much older. It‘s for the best. I‘m not happy; I can‘t see the horrible thing I did staring at me every day. You‘ll be much better off without me around to ruin you even more. Your father loves you. Probably more than I do since I‘m leaving and he‘s staying.

“’I will understand if you’re angry with me. I deserve it. And once you understand why I left, you’ll probably even hate me. That’s fine too. But me being out of your life is what’s best. I won’t come visit you, I won’t stay in contact, and I won’t be there to watch you grow up. All I want to remember me by is how sorry I am, how much I love you.

“’I’m happier wherever I am. I fell in love with someone else. I still care for your father, and I trust him enough to know he will take good care of you. Much better care than I could give you. You be good and listen to him. I can only assume that he’s still taking good care of you now. He better. Of course, I won’t be around to know how you two are doing.

“’Mariabella Cappola, don’t linger on me. Don’t let your life be centered on the fact that I’m gone. Move on. I’m not coming back. Live your life to the fullest, despite your disability. Forget about me. It’ll be better if you do. I love you. Love, Maria Bella Cappola.’”

Jacob was silent after he read it and I heard him fold the paper. While he was reading, I absentmindedly put my head on his shoulders. He didn’t move or flinch away, but once he finished reading, he nonchalantly shrugged me off of him. I didn’t get offended. He just wasn’t touchy.

“You‘re mom‘s name was Maria Bella?” he asked.

“Her first and middle name,” I added. “My father wanted to name me after her so he just put her first and middle name together.”

“This was kinda depressing,” he admitted. “And confusing.”

“My mom was a complicated person. And my dad and I think she was a little buzzed when she wrote this. There were a few empty beer bottles near it according to him.”

“Right, she was an alcoholic,” Jacob said. “So, um, can I get you home now?”

“Yes, yes, impaziente,” I laughed, knowing he wouldn‘t understand that I just called him impatient in Italian. “I‘d like to go home now.”

“What‘d you call me?” Jacob asked when he pulled me up with him. “You didn‘t call me anything bad, did you?”

I walked forward and told him of course not, but then he pulled me the opposite direction and we walked in silence. It only took us a few minutes to get back to my house, and soon he was helping me up the porch.

“Thank you, Jacob,” I said sincerely.

“Don‘t mention it,” he answered rather softly. “Just get inside. And stop coming out here.”

“Can‘t make any promises,” I teased, but he took it seriously.

“You never listen to me,” he grumbled lowly. I heard him walk away. “See you.”

“Bye,” I whispered after him and walked inside.