Love for a Deaf Rebel - Derrick King (top 100 novels .txt) 📗

class="calibre3">silent movie. English is an unillustrated book.”

After my first ASL lesson, Pearl did her part by refusing to use the notepad. She forced me to sign and fingerspell. We met in the food court several times a week and were together on weekends. I studied The Joy of Signing at home and on the bus. I signed to myself in the mirror. At first, our communication was 80:20 fingerspelling to signs, but, one by one, the fingerspelled common words were replaced by their signs. Within a few months, our communication was 20:80 fingerspelling to signs. Our syntax was English, as it is for most hearing signers, because that is the way Pearl always signed it to me.

Pearl invited me to visit a deaf couple for more signing practice. We went in my Beetle. I turned on the 8-track player and played “Truckin’” by the Grateful Dead, one of my few 8-track tape cartridges that hadn’t jammed.

“I notice you never drive up to the white line,” signed Pearl as we waited at a traffic light. “You always stop a little bit behind.”

“It’s a habit I learned from Leo—we can see the people in their cars better than they can see us.”

We parked in front of a low-rise apartment building. A sticker on a car read I’m Not Deaf—I’m Ignoring You. A terrier forced its nose between the curtains on the ground floor and barked.

“Dwight is a funny man. You will like him. His wife is Dana.”

Pearl pushed the lobby intercom button, and the entrance clicked open. A young man greeted us in the corridor. After introductions in sign language, we entered their apartment, where Dwight introduced Dana.

“Only sign and fingerspell. Derrick is my student,” signed Pearl in signed English, not native ASL, so I could understand her.

“Perfect. Our dog is deaf, too.”

“How did you find a deaf dog?” I signed.

“Many terriers are deaf. The SPCA phoned WID to say they had another one. We adopted him.”

“What is WID?”

“Western Institute for the Deaf,” fingerspelled Pearl.

“Sit,” Dwight signed. The dog sat.

“Dead,” he signed. The dog rolled over on its back.

“Watch,” he signed. The dog jumped onto the sofa, nudged the drapes aside, and looked out the window for visitors.

“I’m impressed,” I signed.

“Animals learn signs easier than speech,” signed Pearl. “Animals prefer deafies. We are more sensitive. A woman taught ASL to gorillas—it’s true.”

“Children of deaf parents learn to sign before children of hearing parents learn to speak,” signed Dwight. “How did you meet Pearl?”

“In the Pacific Centre food court. We ate at the same time.”

Pearl laughed. “My lunch was one o’clock and only for thirty minutes. One day I had a doctor’s appointment at eleven o’clock, so I ate there at noon, and then I met Derrick. I got approval to change my lunchtime to noon and for one hour.”

“I didn’t know you hunted me.”

Dwight tapped the floor. “I give you some man-to-man advice. Work hard. It is the responsibility of the hearie in a deafie-hearie relationship to understand Deaf culture. The opposite is impossible.”

“How?”

“Through ASL. When you sign well, you can join us.”

Gradually, the deafies segued from slow signed English to fast native ASL, and I became as excluded as Pearl whenever she was with hearies.

I drove Pearl home, stopped in front of her apartment, and turned on the dome light so we could sign.

“That was interesting. Deaf culture. Thank you.”

“Good signing practice.”

“I think I understand how you felt growing up in an oral family.”

“Missing everything.”

“Teach me native ASL. I understand when you sign to me but not when you sign to deafies.”

“You sign to me in English, so I will improve my English, and you learn more signs. Then I will teach you native ASL.”

“When?”

“That depends on you.”

Pearl retrieved her spare TTY from Jodi and lent it to me. I took the device home, placed my telephone handset on it, dialed Pearl’s number, and heard the beeping tones. It was the only digital device in my home other than a calculator.

PEARL HERE GA

HELLO DERRICK HERE TOO

DONT FORGET TYPE GA AT THE END GA

CAN I ASK YOU A FAVOR? GA

YOU CAN ASK GA

I HAVE TO GO TO MY BOSS HOUSE FOR A COMPANY DINNER TOMORROW CAN I BORROW YOUR BUICK TOMORROW NIGHT? IF I DRIVE MY RUSTY VW I WILL HAVE TO HIDE IT GA

OK JODI WILL COME TOMORROW SO NO NEED FOR MY CAR GA

THANK YOU I WILL COME TO YOUR HOUSE TOMORROW AFTER WORK AND GET THE KEY THANK YOU GA

OK WHEN YOU BRING IT BACK PUT KEY IN MY MAILBOX I WANT TO BORROW YOUR MOTORCYCLE ON THE WEEKEND GA

OK IF YOU HAVE MOTORCYCLE LICENSE GA

NO HA HA YOU NEED TO DRIVE ME GA

HA HA OK IF NOT RAINING SEE YOU TOMORROW BYE GA

WHEN YOU ARE FINISHED TYPE SK NOT GA SK

OK SK

KISS SMACK SK SK SK

As soon as I returned from dinner with my colleagues the next night, my telephone rang. I heard tones and put the handset on the TTY.

HELLO GA

PEARL HERE IS THAT DERRICK? GA

HA THANK YOU FOR LENDING ME YOUR CAR TONIGHT GA

I DONT FORGIVE YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID GA

I BORROWED YOUR CAR NOT OK NOW? GA

THATS NOT WHAT I MEAN YOU THINK GA

I AM THINKING AND I DONT UNDERSTAND AT FOOD COURT TOMORROW PLEASE EXPLAIN GA

NO POINT TO EXPLAIN TO YOU BUT SEE YOU AT 1215

SK

I waited for Pearl at the food court the next day. My environment and hers were so different—the food court cacophony annoyed me, yet, for her, it would have been peaceful. Pearl had never been late before. When she arrived, she stared at me icily.

“You must accept responsibility for your action.”

“I borrowed your car because a wealthy colleague who just moved from Singapore had invited all the managers to his home. I didn’t want to drive my rusty Beetle there with Eugénie on the license plate and park it next to his Mercedes-Benz. I drove to his house. I ate dinner. I refilled your fuel. I parked, put the key in your mailbox, and walked home.”

“It is finished.” She held her finger to her lip.

How could she go from loving me to accusing me of treachery? I convinced myself that I was insensitive, and I had explained myself inadequately.

“Can we stay friends?”

“If you still want to be friends,” she signed without smiling.

“I do.” I smiled. “The weather this weekend will be sunny. Do you want to go to Wreck Beach on Saturday?”

“Is it safe?”

“Yes. Friendly, quiet, and nude, the safest beach in Vancouver.”

“Can Jodi come?”

“Sure.”

“I accept your invitation.”

Pearl said that she was breaking up with me but then seemed to forget about it. She never mentioned the episode again, and she never told me what she thought I had done with her car.

Pearl, Jodi, and I parked near the beach and hiked down the steep trail. I held both women’s hands to help them balance. We spread towels on the sand beside a driftwood log and undressed. A thousand people were nude except for a bodybuilder strutting about wearing only a chrome cock ring and a T-shirt that said, “MY NAME IS DAVE MY NUMBER IS 367-0187.” A man with leathery skin carried a cooler chanting, “Tequila sunrise! Margaritas!” A woman on a rock practiced tai chi. In the days before digital cameras and cellphones, nude beaches were like a private club.

“It’s like a party,” signed Pearl, with Jodi interpreting.

“No clothes means no showing off. Most people look better when clothed.”

“I like the coconut smell,” Jodi signed and said.

“Spread lotion on your bottoms, or you won’t be able to sit down tomorrow.”

“Fine,” signed Pearl. “I see pink bikinis over there already.”

Pearl and Jodi lay prone. I spread lotion on Pearl’s back, arms, neck, legs, and buttocks. She rolled onto her back, put lotion on her breasts, and gestured for me to spread lotion everywhere else. She sat up.

“Your turn,” Pearl signed. She slathered me in turn.

“No boyfriend today,” Jodi signed and said. “Gavin is working.”

“On Saturday?”

“He sells investments.”

“How long has he been your boyfriend?”

“Two years.”

“Does he sign?”

“No. I was worried he would find another girl, so he doesn’t have to repeat so much talking, but now I know he loves me.”

“You live in the hearing world, although you sign perfectly.”

“But sometimes I feel like I don’t fit in the hearing world.”

“Why?”

“Because hearies think listening is more important than seeing.”

“Make small signs,” signed Pearl. “Deafies can read ASL from far away, then gossip. Don’t discuss private things.”

Jodi removed her hearing aids and put them in her backpack. We swam in the surf with the crowd.

“Derrick!” shouted a voice.

I turned to see Eugénie, waving. It had been less than a year since she left, but I felt nothing for her. We waded to the shore. I introduced the women to each other, speaking and signing. Jodi was deaf without her hearing aids, so I did my best to interpret.

“A different way to meet—everyone nude,” Pearl signed.

“I saw your car, and I came down. It’s easy to spot a car with my name on it!” said Eugénie.

“Let’s sit down. Our towels are over there,” I signed and said.

Eugénie sat cross-legged next to Pearl and opened her backpack. She pulled out a clipboard. Her clipboard and a pen shuttled between Pearl and Eugénie. Jodi and I walked to the suntanned hawker and bought four margaritas.

Jodi put her hearing aids back on and began interpreting. Eugénie put the clipboard away.

“Try buying margaritas on any other beach! I love Wreck Beach,” said Eugénie.

“Me, too. No police—and no plainclothesmen, either!” I laughed.

“Did you bring your Minox?” said Eugénie.

“Yes.”

“Would you like me to take a photo of the three of you?”

“Of course!” I said.

Eugénie took our photo sitting nude in front of the log. I offered our sandwiches, but she stood up and said, “I must go. I enjoyed my conversation with Pearl.” She put on her clothes, and wandered away.

“I don’t understand why she left you. She wrote that you did nothing wrong, but she decided to be single.”

“Eugénie moved out a few months after I found semen in our bed. She told me it was her professor’s semen, and she had been seeing him in our bed in the afternoon for months. She told me his name and that he was married, seventeen years older, and a Cambridge Ph.D. He could do more for her career than I could, and her career was everything to her. She left because she was his mistress. Her grandmother, mother, and sister are actresses, and single, and she felt her mother looked down at her. I even watched them beat her at charades.”

“What’s charades?” I explained the game, and Pearl laughed. “Deafies will always win. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. Did Eugénie offer to take our photo?”

I nodded.

“I knew it! She was testing us to see if we would hold hands.”

Jodi laughed. “I hope you pass Pearl’s tests. Deafie-hearie works if the hearie has the patience to be an interpreter, secretary, and everything. Hearie-hearie couples can share 50:50, but deafie-hearie must share 80:20.”

I lay back on the towel and looked up at the silhouettes of the women. Pearl, despite her quirks, made me happy. I could imagine spending my life with Pearl.

I kissed Pearl, put my .22 rifle and cartridges in the trunk of her car, and climbed in. We drove to Jeff’s flat. Pearl introduced me to Jeff, her previous lover, by fingerspelling. Jeff got in the back seat.

“You talk while I drive,” Pearl signed. We drove off.

“How did you meet Pearl, Jeff?”

“Her friend Jodi is my friend Gavin’s girlfriend. Pearl never has a notepad—on principle—so I learned fingerspelling so I could talk to her while Gavin was with Jodi.”

“Why not learn some signs?”

“I pick fights I can win. Learning to sign is like learning to play guitar. It’s easy to do badly, hard to do well.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“Real estate—now also for deaf clients.” Jeff grinned.

“You didn’t learn fingerspelling only for Pearl.”

“That’s true, but that’s why I started it. Try explaining ‘nothing could be further from the truth’ to Pearl. I used a dictionary. I used a diagram. I gave up.”

Jeff and I heard a police siren.