Page 49 of Quiet Beautiful Things

Blake

Ellie arrives at six. She reached out earlier asking to push our appointment back due to another client needing immediate attention.

“Everything okay?” I say and sign.

“Yes. Thank you for changing the time.”

At least I think that’s what she signed. I don’t know the sign for change. I do the sign back to her and furrow my brows. She fingerspells ‘change.’

I’m starting to pick up more and more signs. A lot of it is just filling in the blanks when I don’t get it. I feel like it’s the same with Ellie when she reads lips. Context is very important.

Maisy was acting out earlier. She’s gotten used to Ellie coming every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at four. Although I doubt she can tell time, she’s gotten used to the routine. And when I fed her dinnerbeforeEllie came over, she noticed and got visibly upset. She even hid in her closet for a bit until she smelled her favorite dinner—grilled cheese. She pouted the whole time she ate, pointing to the drawing of Ellie. I kept signing ‘soon,’ but either she doesn’t understand the concept or is just super impatient like any other four-year-old.

I don’t tell Ellie about Maisy’s outburst. The last thing I want is for Ellie to feel guilty.

Ellie spends an hour teaching us today’s lesson. Maisy and I learn the signs for many things you’d find outdoors: lake, tree, clouds, sun, rain, park, bench, sidewalk.

Maisy becomes disinterested and fussy more quickly than usual.

“She’s tired,” Ellie signs. “We should take a break.”

She pulls out her phone.

Ellie: Speaking of outdoors and sidewalks, did you notice the new road sign out front?

“It’s here?” I ask, surprised.

She nods.

I slide Maisy’s iPad over and open a game. Then Ellie and I go out on the front lawn. There’s a large yellow sign that reads DEAF CHILD AREA smack dab in front of my house. My mind skips back to the night Maisy nearly got hit, and I’m relieved drivers will now have a heads-up to be careful in the area.

Walking back into the house, I hear voices on the sidewalk. I turn to see three teens passing by the sign and acting like imbeciles. One drags a foot behind him like a zombie. Another holds crooked hands in front of his chest as if he’s brain damaged. The third rolls his eyes up in his head and hangs his tongue out of the side of his mouth.

Fuming, I take steps toward them. “You little fuckers!” As I approach, they laugh and run away.

“What?” Ellie signs.

I get out my phone, my temple throbbing.

Me: Those kids. They saw the sign and were acting like stupid assholes. I should go after them and give them a goddamn piece of my mind. Who the fuck do they think they are?

She puts a hand on my arm and shakes her head.

Ellie: I know that upsets you, but don’t fight her battles. Especially when she didn’t even see it happen. People are cruel. They think deafness is somehow associated with lower intelligence. But let me tell you, Maisy isbright. And stubborn. Soon enough she’ll be able to fight her own battles.

I look up. “Did you? Have to fight your own battles?”

Ellie: Did and do. There are stereotypes and misinformation about the deaf. Every day I get looked at as if I’m different. She will too. Try to accept that now, Blake. You can’t change the world. The best you can do is educate people whenever you can.

“I’d like to educate those little fuckers,” I mumble.

“Say again?” she signs.

“Nothing. Let’s go back inside.”

In the house, Maisy has fallen asleep on the couch, her iPad lying by her side. I’m so fucking pissed about those boys. Is this what lies in store for her? Is she destined for a life of being mocked by ignorant people? I’ll do anything to make it easier for her. I just don’t have any clue how.

Ellie taps me on the shoulder. She gets how pissed I am, but she smiles anyway. “Guess what?” she signs.

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