Page 9 of Anything But Convenient

"Controversial how?" I asked.

His eyes widened a touch. “Do you happen to know sign language? American Sign Language, I should say. I know there are multiple types. Since you know other languages, you might know them…”

I ended his ramble by placing my hands on his. “I know American Sign Language. Why? Are you wanting to learn? A private gig won't help my visa,” I admitted.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “It wouldn't be for me. I know someone who needs to learn. I've been talking about it with Memphis, my boyfriend, since he works with whom I think needs it. The guy is not a big fan of the idea.”

“Why isn't he a fan?” I asked.

Sinclair looked around the room as if he was waiting for someone to jump out and tell him,"No, don't share the story."Instead, he pressed ahead.

“The issue is that he hasn't always needed to learn. There was an incident. He no longer has the ability to speak. While he's been recovering, the team has been thinking of ideas of how to help him adjust. Texting will hopefully be a useful tool. We wanted him to be able to feel free to talk as he wanted without anything else. Everyone's willing to learn, even me. It's just convincing him to do it.”

My curiosity was piqued. Someone who suffered from an injury that made it so they cannot speak doesn't want to learn sign language? Yet he's completely surrounded by people who want to help him and are willing to learn.

It's not every day you find that type of situation.

Most people didn't care if there was a language barrier. I couldn't explain how many times I’d seen someone yell atanother person simply because they knew they didn't speak perfect English.

I wanted to explain to them that the person wasn't hard of hearing. Yelling wouldn’t help the matter. Most of the time, they even understand enough to get by.

My job was just to make sure the English-speaking people could understand. It was a sense of irony that often left me frustrated.

“It's good that he has people like you and his friends in his life,” I told Sinclair. “Not everyone would be willing to do something like that. It's time consuming, you know? Though having friends to practice with is helpful and can speed up the process.”

He nodded, leaning back in his chair and smiling. “That's exactly what I told Memphis! I figured if we could pair up and work together during our downtime, it would be something that he could get through quicker. And if there was enough of us, then he would never be alone. Hell, even his physical therapist/live-in nurse would probably help. Fabian is a sweetheart.”

I raised my brow. “He has a live-in nurse?”

Sinclair grimaced. “Not by his choice, of course. His boss is very adamant that he has the best care, which means living at headquarters and having a nurse and an on-call doctor, and a full team of super protective men ready to go to bat for him. Honestly, it's kind of hilarious. Especially considering before this, he would not have needed anyone to help him with anything because he was the most independent person I think I've ever met.”

I frowned at the thought. If this was someone who was highly independent but then had their life completely turned upside down due to an injury, they would be very reluctant to do anything that would highlight the changes in their life.

It was no wonder he hesitated at learning sign language. He probably just couldn't stand the idea that he would need help.

And with the way Sinclair just blew off the idea as hilarious tells me no one understands where he’s coming from.

They aren’t intentionally mean.

It’s just hard to empathize for some people.

Sinclair was right in other ways though. He didn't necessarily need to learn ASL, but how much easier would it make his life? How much more comfortable would he be if he could communicate directly with someone without the use of technology?

I often found that when someone made the effort to learn another language and reach out, people would be more open to discussion. Their lack of belief in people's compassion was learned from experience. Having someone do just the bare minimum could be the difference between a stilted conversation and an exuberant one in which both parties were content.

Just last week, I was in the grocery store with a woman who struggled with the cashier. I stepped in to mediate, and both were so happy after we finished. One of the true joys of my job was to make people happy.

I grabbed a napkin and wrote my number down. “Well, if this guy ever decides he needs help, I'd be willing to do so. Even if I get booted out of the country in the next couple of weeks, he can always video call me or something. We'll work it out.”

Sinclair snatched up the napkin and tucked it away in his pocket. “We'll see about this whole leaving the country thing. You're one of my favorite customers. I refuse to let you go if I can do anything about it.”

I took another sip of my coffee then stood. The conversation had brought about some unwanted thoughts. I'd come here to escape, and my problems seemed to have just followed me.

“I’m going to head on out,” I told him. “Got to start looking for those job postings.”

He frowned, then stood quickly and hugged me. It was the first time we’d ever touched this way. There was nothing sexual about it. It felt like an old friend really.

I patted his back, then pulled away to look him in the eye. “Thank you, Sinclair. I appreciate your kindness with all this.”

---