Blindsided (11 page)

R
enegade
W
is what Miss Karen called it. Unlike all the other letters of the alphabet,
W
didn’t follow the pattern in Braille. She explained: “
W
is out of order because Braille was originally written in French in the early 1800s, which at that time did not contain a letter for
W
. So we had to invent one!”

Okay. So sometimes it
was
interesting, and Natalie
was
beginning to appreciate how Braille could actually open a whole world to people who couldn’t see. Still, what Natalie thought about most at her new school was
not
Braille, or a cane, but Home and her Friends and how Forward Motion would keep her from acknowledging the constant butterflies in her stomach. She couldn’t wait for Friday to come, and every day looked forward to the phone calls she could make after 8 P.M. One afternoon, she even found herself rehearsing in her head the conversation she’d have with Meredith.

She would keep the conversation upbeat, she had decided. She didn’t want to make it hard for Meredith to be a friend.

Back in her room, Natalie heard Gabriella taking a shower and figured it was a good time to start homework so she would have more time for phone calls. Which is when it hit her: she had forgotten her backpack on the second floor of Norland Hall after her O and M lessons. It was because she and Miss Audra had ended their walk in the dining hall at dinner. Natalie had planned to retrieve the backpack after she ate, but forgot.

The evening counselor insisted Natalie take someone with her back to Norland Hall, so Natalie asked Serena.

“I’m sure I would be okay by myself,” she told Serena as she took the girl’s elbow and they walked together back down the sidewalk.

“Yeah, I know. But stupid rules, right?”

“Look, you don’t have to go all the way upstairs,” Natalie offered. “I’ll just run up, grab it, and come back down.”

“But you don’t have your cane,” Serena said. “Will you—”

“I don’t
need
the cane,” Natalie stopped her. “I’m okay once I’m inside and there’s some light.”

“Okay,” Serena said. “I’ll wait here on the bottom step.”

Natalie moved quickly up the wide staircase to the second floor, then down the hallway, keeping a hand on the wall. The O and M office was at the far end. The door was open and Natalie glimpsed her bright red backpack. She grabbed it and, with one hand trailing the wall to her left this time, retraced her steps quickly back through the hall. When the wall ended, she began crossing a wide, tiled foyer and wondered, if she had her cane, would she be able to sense the open space like Eve? She’d try another time, just for the heck of it. Meanwhile, she moved swiftly, not wanting to keep Serena waiting, and reached for the wooden handrail that she knew was to her left.

In her haste, however, Natalie misjudged the location of the top stair and missed the first step completely, which sent her spiraling over the edge. She landed hard, her left shoulder smashing into the stairs, her head against the wall. There wasn’t even time to scream. Natalie’s glasses and hat flew off and her backpack bounced down the stairs. A horrible thud and all was silent.

 

Things were always a blur to Natalie, but this time nothing made sense as she slowly opened her eyes. Parts of different faces hovered over her and strange voices wove together in a surreal way. Pain shot through her left shoulder and arm. She winced as someone lifted her. Without her tinted glasses the lights hurt, forcing her to squint and shield her eyes with one hand. She had never been in an ambulance before but was aware that she was in one.

After a short ride to the hospital, the stretcher was rolled into an emergency room, where the lights were even brighter. “
Please
—my eyes,” she begged, grimacing and holding her hand over her face. Someone kindly draped a towel over her eyes.

Then Natalie heard a familiar voice.

“Miss Audra, is that you?” she asked.

“Yes, Natalie. I’m here.” She sounded breathless. Natalie reached out a hand and Miss Audra took it. “They called me and said you fell. I came right away! I practically followed the ambulance. Are you okay?”

“I think so. But my arm hurts.”

“What happened, Natalie?”

“I don’t know. I was getting something—wasn’t I? My backpack. I had my backpack and I fell down the stairs. Serena was with me.”

“Apparently, it was a bad fall, Natalie. You lost consciousness for a few minutes.”

“I did?”

“Gosh, Natalie, did you have your cane with you? Were you using it?”

Natalie didn’t answer right away. The only time she ever used her cane was during O and M lessons, after which she tossed the cane into the back of her closet.

“I didn’t have it,” Natalie confessed.

Silence as Natalie envisioned Miss Audra frowning and crossing her arms.

“That ends tomorrow,” Miss Audra declared. “From now on, Natalie, the cane goes with you
all
the time and is used
everywhere.
”

Natalie felt her heart dip. She did not want to use that cane. But neither did she want another bad accident. Deep down, she knew that the accident marked a turning point. No way could she keep on living the way she had, pretending she didn’t need any help but knowing that she did.

 

Miss Audra stayed with Natalie for the next several hours while X-rays were taken and nurses watched for signs of head injury. An ice pack was brought in for her left shoulder, another for her wrist. The ice made her cold. Miss Audra left to find a blanket and even managed to locate a cup of warm tea somewhere.

Finally, a doctor came in to announce that no bones were broken. “Although you do have a shoulder sprain,” he said. “And there was a slight concussion. You need to take it easy for a couple days.”

It was nearly midnight when they arrived back at school. The evening counselor handed Natalie her hat and her glasses, which, amazingly enough, were still intact.

“Is there anything else I can do?” Miss Audra asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Natalie assured her, whispering at the doorway to her room so as not to wake Gabriella. “Thank you so much for everything.”

Miss Audra gave her a gentle hug. “See you tomorrow.”

But Natalie was sorry she hadn’t asked for more help, because it was next to impossible to get her T-shirt off over the sling. She gave in and decided to just sleep in her clothes. In bed, she managed to maneuver an extra pillow under her arm, then cradled the teddy bear in the crook of her neck and used it to help hold an ice pack against her throbbing temple. When she was finally in the most comfortable position she could manage, she realized she’d left a bottle of water on the bureau.

“Oh, no,” she groaned, “my drink.” She sighed, wondering if it was worth the effort to maneuver herself out of bed.

“Can I get it for you?” a small voice in the darkness asked.

Natalie rolled her head toward her roommate. “That would be great,” she murmured softly. “My water bottle—it’s up on our bureau.”

Gabriella folded back her covers and crossed the room. Natalie could hear her bare feet pad across the tile floor, then her hands as they explored the bureau top and knocked something over—probably her own cologne bottle.

“Got it,” Gabriella said.

She brought it to Natalie and, while making sure it was in her grasp, their fingers touched.

“Thanks very much, Gabriella,” Natalie said. “I really appreciate it.”

“We heard about your accident,” she said. “Are you hurt bad?”

“My shoulder mostly. I think I’ll be okay,” Natalie said.

Gabriella didn’t say anything else but returned to her bed. Natalie listened as the girl pulled her covers back up.

Silence again, until Gabriella said, “You can call me Bree.”

I
n the morning, Natalie rubbed her sore shoulder, then gingerly crouched, and with one hand searched her closet floor for the cane she had heaved in there.

“I’ll be in the lobby,” Bree said, “unless you need help.”

Natalie looked up. “Thanks,” she responded, still amazed at the overnight change in her roommate. Her fall down the stairs must have jarred loose a chunk of sympathy, Natalie thought.

But there was a change in Natalie, too. She felt it as she found and retrieved her cane, then stood, unfolding each section a little more carefully than she had in the past.

At breakfast, everyone made a big fuss over Natalie’s accident and peppered her with questions and offers of help.

“Shall I dish out the scrambled eggs for you?” Sheldon offered.

JJ’s voice: “Were you scared?”

“Do you want your toast buttered?” asked Eve, her face smack in front of Natalie’s.

Natalie repeated her story several times, including how difficult it was to get comfortable in bed. “I was so grateful when Gabriella brought my water bottle over.”

The table fell quiet. Natalie was sure that no one had forgiven her roommate for the insulting remarks she had made on her first day at school. But Natalie was eager for them to know there had been a softening in the girl’s hard-core attitude.

 

“I want to talk about clues and landmarks,” Miss Audra announced at the beginning of cane instruction that afternoon. She said they would “give the wrist a rest” and take a walk outside using sighted guide. It was a warm September day and the sun felt good after being inside so many air-conditioned classrooms.

“Now, a
clue
is something that may or may not be there to help you find your way, whereas a
landmark
never moves,” Miss Audra explained. She reached out to rattle the metal trash basket near them on the sidewalk. “This trash basket is a clue. The car parked on the circle here”—she thumped on the vehicle’s roof—“it’s a clue, too, because the car might not be here next time, just like the trash basket.”

They moved on. “The big bush here in front of Norland Hall is a landmark,” Miss Audra said as she took Natalie’s right hand and had her touch the thick green boxwood. “The elevator, the water fountain, they’re landmarks. You can pretty much count on them being there. You need to remember these landmarks—they’re part of the ‘orientation’ portion of ‘orientation and mobility.’ Making a map with landmarks in your head.

“Let’s rest a minute,” Miss Audra said, gently guiding Natalie to a bench outside the gym.

Natalie had been waiting for a chance to say something. “Miss Audra,” she began, “first, I want to thank you for being there for me last night. And second, I want to apologize for being such a pain-in-the-you-know-what last week.”

Miss Audra scoffed. “No more than anyone else.”

“I know for a fact that I’ve had a bad attitude. I guess I’m a little angry at what’s happening. And I’m frustrated with a lot of the things I have to learn.”

“What else besides the cane? The Braille?”

“Definitely the Braille—although I do understand the need for it. I was thinking about other things, like that social worker I have to see.”

“Ms. Kravitz?”

Natalie nodded. “I know that some of the kids here might need someone like that, but I don’t. It’s insulting for someone to lecture me on the need to face someone when I’m speaking with them, or how to respect someone’s personal space.”

“Yes, I can understand that,” Miss Audra said. “On the other hand, Natalie, I have actually known people who lost their sight after years of having it who needed to be reminded about how to start a conversation, and how to know when to laugh at a joke. Without being able to see, it’s more difficult to pick up these social cues. All of us are just trying to prepare you. Ms. Kravitz is only doing her job.”

“But even if I lost my sight, Miss Audra, it wouldn’t turn me into an idiot.”

“Well, that’s a little harsh, Natalie, because you know blind people aren’t idiots.”

Natalie winced. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But that’s what you implied,” Miss Audra said.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Be careful what you say then. And remember, sometimes you just have to go with the program here. Try not to take everything so personally.

“You’re a very bright young lady, Natalie. Just look at what you’ve accomplished these past two weeks.”

“Yeah! I nearly killed myself falling down the stairs!”