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Stacy's Song Page 5
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“Fine with us,” Michael responded without hesitation. He and Mr. Kemp shook hands on it.
We drove home that evening in a good mood. In fact, I’d never seen Michael in such high spirits. “Soon now we’ll have enough money for the right kind of equipment. We can pick out the amplifiers together. No more second-hand junk that you have to keep repairing, Jimmy. I’ll get the best synthesizer on the market. We’ll be able to make ourselves sound like a symphony orchestra if we feel like it.”
“Outstanding!” Jimmy responded with a broad grin.
“That’s right, outstanding is just what we’re going to be.” I never heard Michael sound so hopeful before.
I was beginning to understand just what the music meant to him. Probably he saw it as a chance to escape from poverty and isolation, his ticket to a better life. But his emotions were too complex for me to comprehend fully. I recognized that his mind was a lot deeper, darker and more complicated than mine.
****
The next morning, the temperature took a dip into the mid-seventies. It was a beautiful day, but more like spring than summer. I made an impulsive decision and told my Mother I was going out to visit with a friend for a while. I didn’t tell her who that friend was. I wasn’t sure she would approve.
I had to wait nearly half an hour for the cross-town bus to arrive. Whole groups of teenagers have been known to die of exposure and dehydration in the time it took the local bus to show up. But nothing was going to daunt my own cheerfulness, not even Michael’s unmistakably displeased expression when he answered the door and found me standing there.
“I hope you don’t mind me coming over today.”
“Stacy? We don’t have practice until tomorrow evening.”
“I know. That wasn’t why I came.”
“Okay, you realize this doesn’t make any sense, don’t you? Liz is at work. There’s no one here but me.”
“The very person I came to see.”
“Wish I could return the favor.”
“Yeah, well, I thought we could go for a walk together. It’s a fantastic day out here.”
He looked as if he would faint. “What?”
Now I was filled with doubt. I started talking fast to hide my nervousness. “You heard me, Mr. Norris. It seems to me this is an absolutely perfect day for a walk. And I’m not taking no for an answer.” I studied his pale face. “How much time do you spend outdoors?”
“Hardly any and I plan to keep it that way.”
“Terrible answer, unacceptable!”
“Look, I’ll sit with you in the backyard for a while but as for a walk forget it!”
“Are you opposed to physical exercise?” I persisted.
“No as a matter of fact I work out regularly but I don’t like to be on display for strangers like some kind of sideshow freak.”
“Since you can’t see them you won’t know will you?”
He sighed in an exasperated manner. “I didn’t realize you were so stubborn and pushy.”
“Those are my good qualities. Come on, Michael, there’s no one out now. The streets are deserted.”
“All right, I can tell you’re not going to leave me alone. I’ll just get some shoes on.” He wiggled his stocking feet.
“You’ve got holes in your socks.”
“Your point being?”
“Do Liz or your mother know?”
“They both have a lot more important stuff to do besides worrying about my bare toes.”
“I’ll sew them for you when we get back. Sewing is one of my talents. I mend par excellence. Not that I would brag.”
Michael placed his hands firmly on my shoulders. “No, you won’t. I don’t want you doing things for me because you’re sorry for the poor blind kid.”
“You’re impossible, you know that? I’m not throwing a pity party for you. Friends do things to help each other. It’s no big deal.”
“It is if your socks smell. Just let it alone, Stacy.”
I followed him into the house. As usual the living room was gloomy and dark curtains and shades drawn. He went upstairs while I waited. I paced around the room looking at the old-fashioned over-stuffed furniture and the dark mahogany of the wood. On the marble mantle over the old brick fireplace was a gilt-framed photograph of a man, woman, boy and little girl. They were all smiling and anyone could see how much they loved each other and how happy they were together as a family. I felt a deep sadness knowing how that family life had been shattered. The living room filled with its shabby furniture spoke only of yesterday.
Michael returned dressed comfortably in a blue, short-sleeved knit shirt, faded jeans and sneakers. He had even combed his hair.
“Ready?” I asked.
“We’re missing two things.”
“What?”
“A red-tipped cane and a tin can. We might as well make some money along the way.”
“Don’t start!” I warned him.
“Look let’s just go for a walk another time. I don’t feel right about this.”
“What are you so afraid of, Michael?”
“I don’t like going out. In here I’m secure. I know my way around. I’m independent and in control. Out there it’s a different matter. Anything can happen.”
“But you go out to play for the band.”
“Different. Jimmy and Liz are there. They get things set up for me. They know what I need.”
“You should get a seeing-eye dog.”
“Not interested. Never had a pet. Wouldn’t know how to take care of one. As I’m sure you noticed I can barely take care of myself. Besides nobody walks anywhere these days.”
“Well they should. It’s still a good idea to take a walk now and then. People in cities walk all the time. Allow me to be your German shepherd and guide you just for now.”
“Only if you promise not to bark. I don’t want people to say I’m so hard up I only go out with dogs.”
“Ha, ha! Very funny.”
“Let’s go, my faithful furry friend,” he said in a teasingly voice.
He extended his hand to me and I realized what an exercise in trust this was, especially for a boy who never seemed to trust anyone very much. We walked out together strolling along the old tree-lined streets. I enjoyed being with him, even having him depend on me if only for a little while.
“Have you seen my mother?” he asked. I told him I hadn’t. “Neither have I,” he responded and then smiled. “Want to hear another blind guy joke?”
“I didn’t know you were able to joke about it. That’s progress.”
“Not,” he responded. “My jokes always come out sounding bitter. My music better be good because I’m not about to make it in stand-up comedy.”
I was getting a glimpse into another Michael Norris, one with a sense of humor who existed before the accident. We walked along for a while. It all seemed to be going well until Michael got a step ahead of me. Before I could warn him he tripped on a break in the concrete. We collided together as I tried to prevent him from falling. As I landed in his arms, something like a jolt of electricity shot through my body. For a moment I thought he must have felt it too because he didn’t release me immediately. When he asked if I was all right I could hardly answer. I couldn’t breathe. We didn’t talk much after that but he held my hand tight.
Back at the house he turned to me. “You were right. It did feel good being outdoors, even if we did make fools of ourselves almost falling down. I forgot what being outside was like. I guess in some ways we all create our own prisons. Nothing like the warmth of sunshine, the breath of a fresh summer breeze or the song of a bird and...” His voice broke off. “Why don’t you stay for a while? This time I’ll fix the orange juice.”
We sat together in the old-fashioned kitchen, neither of us doing much talking. It felt right being with him in the large sunny room. I felt comfortable sitting opposite Michael drinking juice. Afterwards he stood me up and put his hands to my face. He moved his hands over my forehead my cheeks and
then my lips. His motions were gentle and slow. He had such a delicate sensual touch.
“What are you doing?”
“Finding out what you look like.”
“You could have asked.”
“Some things a person likes to discover for himself.”
“And what have you discovered?”
“That what I suspected is true. You’re beautiful.”
Heat rose to my cheeks. I wondered if he could feel it with his fingers. “Your hands lied to you.”
“Mouths often lie but hands, they always tell the truth.” He stroked my hair. “Like silk. What color is it?”
“Just ordinary dark brown and so are my eyes.”
“Brown is a warm color.”
Michael thought I was beautiful but I realized it was only because he couldn’t see me.
“You don’t have to compliment me,” I told him.
“I’m not.” He took my hand. “Maybe I can’t see your face but I sense your soul and it is lovely.” Suddenly Michael seemed to consider what he’d said and now he colored with embarrassment. “I’ve been working on a new song. Would you like to hear it? I could use some help with it.” I realized he wanted to change the subject and decided it was for the best. This thing between us was becoming too intense.
“I’d like to listen, but you know I don’t compose.”
“You have more ability than you think.”
“I could say that cuts both ways.”
We sat down together at the piano shoulders touching. He began to play for me and I was swept up into the beauty of the sound. Michael had a genius for creating melody. Then he began to sing in that warm velvet voice, a voice that both caressed and thrilled me.
“Sun comes out after rain.
Thought it never would.
Thought I’d never see the sun smile again.
Should have known it wasn’t gone for good,
but your eyes were dark, open graves
where I was buried alive,
catacombs at midnight, cavernous caves,
where no love could thrive.
But sun comes out after rain,
and, baby, your eyes are glowing again.
Sun comes out after rain,
‘cause, baby, you love me again.”
The sound was as smooth as kitten’s fur. I let out a deep sigh as he stopped playing and turned to me.
“What do you think? Is it any good?” Michael asked in a hesitant voice. I put my hand to his face. He was so vulnerable I could have cried.
“It’s a wonderful song! I felt like you were letting me into your soul. Thank you for playing it for me.” Impulsively I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. For a moment, he held me away and I felt the strength in his arms and the tension in his body. Then Michael surprised me by pulling me closer and kissing me with great tenderness. I felt such stirrings, such a strange sense of yearning. I kissed him back with more feeling than I ever knew existed in me. He buried his face in my hair. His dark glasses dropped to the floor. I held to him just as he clung to me. For that moment there were no obstacles between us. There were no words either. We didn’t need any.
The kiss lasted an eternity. Then, without warning, Michael pushed away from me. Something was wrong. He began groping around the floor in desperation for his dark glasses, located them and put them back on. Then he rose to his feet, thrust his hands into his jeans pockets and paced the room. His movements were like those of a caged tiger.
“What is it?” I asked. I didn’t understand his mood swing.
“Look, we better keep it just friends. I’m not good for you. I bring nothing but grief and misery to the people I care about.”
“That’s not true,” I tried to reassure him, but I realized I couldn’t.
“I’m trouble,” he returned, shaking with anger. The old Michael was back again.
“I care about you,” I told him. I don’t know where I got the nerve but I’ve never been one for pretenses anyway.
“I have feelings for you too, but it’s wrong. I can’t allow it to happen.”
“Let’s talk about it.” I put my hand on his arm; he brushed it away.
“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s no good. I’m no good.”
“Maybe I’m not the one you should talk to about this. But you ought to discuss your feelings with someone. You ought to talk to your mother.”
He shook his head with vehemence and his hair moved like a wheat field in the wind. “She’d be the last one! My mother works ten sometimes twelve hours a day. She pays for me to go to my special school. She pays all the bills. She has to work hard but she works even harder than she needs to. You want to know why? It’s not just for the money. It’s because she doesn’t want to see me or talk to me. She doesn’t want to be around here when I am.”
“You must be imagining that.”
“You think so? She hates me! She can’t stand the sight of me.”
“No, Michael, that can’t be true!” I tried to approach him, but he walked away.
“I ruined her life. When my father died, her life ended too.”
“You shouldn’t be thinking stuff like that.”
He wasn’t listening; he just kept pacing and talking as if to himself. “Someday, I’m going to pay her back, pay off every cent she’s had to spend on me.” He returned to the piano. “Let’s go make some music. When I’m working on that, I can close out everything else.”
I sat beside him again at the piano except that special moment we had shared was gone. I felt a deep sorrow, a sense of loss, like I’d lost something precious. Tears welled up in my eyes, but Michael was unaware. He was closing out everything except his music, and that included me. I bit down on my lower lip, shaking my head in misery.
****
The next evening I phoned Liz. I wasn’t seeing much of Karen these days so I decided to become better friends with Liz, although she was also busy. I invited Liz to come to the pool on her day off during the week. Liz worked for her mother who managed a dress shop in the mall. She had to work Saturdays and late on several evenings but she had Tuesdays off.
Liz turned out to be a fun companion. She was totally unspoiled. She appreciated everything. Seeing the swim club through her eyes was like seeing it again for the first time. Unlike me, she took nothing for granted. She tried tennis, horseback riding and racquetball. By the time we hit the water I felt exhausted but she still seemed exhilarated.
“This place is wonderful,” she exclaimed over lunch. “How terrific that you can come here everyday!”
I agreed with her but found it difficult to feel much enthusiasm. “How is Michael?” I asked.
She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s preoccupied, you could say. He’s been working on something new. It’s a surprise for you but don’t let on I told you. You know how temperamental he is. He’ll just get angry at me.”
“No, I won’t say a word. But what sort of surprise is it?”
****
Liz wouldn’t tell me anything else. I kept wondering about it. I didn’t get to see Michael Wednesday night either because my parents were all set to take us on vacation. Dad took time off from the office. Since he is one of the partners in the law firm, he can choose his own vacation days. In August, things were slow, so he decided that we would take a week or so to drive up to Canada. At home, the weather was muggy and it was a tremendous relief to escape to the cooler Canadian climate.
We traveled extensively and did a lot of sightseeing. The vacation was what I needed. It was good spending time with my family again. It was nice to have a change of scene. But I couldn’t help thinking about Michael and wondering about his surprise. Liz indicated it had to do with his music—Michael only seemed able to express his emotions through music. The accident that destroyed his sight crippled Michael more than physically. He had told me that we couldn’t have a real relationship because of it. Would he ever change his mind? Why did life have to be so difficult and complicated?
>
Chapter Five
Karen was my first visitor after I came home from Canada. She was all charged up about Randy and we did a lot of talking. I told her about my vacation but her mind wasn’t on it. She was too excited.
“Stace, I’m so happy! Randy and I are getting along great. We have, like, so much in common and we’ve been doing everything together.”
“That’s fantastic,” I said, but I felt a pang of jealousy in my heart. I knew it was wrong and I tried hard to suppress the vile emotion.
“You know what the best part is? We go out in a group with the popular kids like Greg Lawson, Cindy Ellis, and three or four other terrific couples. It’s so much fun. We go bowling, miniature golf, movies, anything and even just hanging out; it’s so awesome when you’re doing it with them.”
“I’m happy for you,” I told her. Even to my ears my voice sounded wooden. Honest I wanted to mean it!
Karen’s face beamed. There was a radiant glow about her. “Listen, Stace, I just had an incredible idea. I could get Randy to fix you up.”
“No, don’t.”
“Why not? Randy has lots of friends. He’ll find someone for you.”
“I just don’t like the idea of a blind date. Look, I’m glad you got a great boyfriend. In fact, I always thought Randy was a nice guy but I want to find my own dates.”
Karen shrugged. “Sure, Stace, if that’s the way you want it. Listen, I’ll call you soon so we can get together and practice our cheerleading. Ms. Gladstone will hold try-outs again in the fall. Cindy mentioned that Beth Hilliard moved. It seems her father was transferred to another state. I’m broken-hearted,” Karen said with a broad smile and I found myself smiling too.
“Okay, but that’s only one spot. Why don’t I just practice with you and forget about the try-outs? I’m busy these days with the band anyway.”
“Whatever.”
Cheerleading was the last thing on my mind, but I wouldn’t hurt Karen’s feelings by telling her that. Before she left we made up to meet at the pool the next day.