He was angry; that was the first thing my fogged mind could register about the lanky frame that towered above me, gesturing at myself and the now limp snake still held in one hand. He was angry and he was shouting something at me. But even as my mind registered the fact that he was obviously angry with me, my eyes roamed the beautiful face that glowered down at me. He wasn't "the man" I'd first believed him to be at all, but a teenage boy that I guessed to hardly be older than myself. His face was handsome with high, slender cheekbones covered in pale skin that, though of creamy complexion, showed signs of freckles and tan from spending time in the sun. As my eyes roamed further down his face they found two lips that, though drawn tightly into a frown at that moment, appeared to be full, and his chin bore the slightest covering of thin "peach fuzz" hair that was every bit as blonde as the messy shock that shown from beneath his ball cap. Blue eyes pierced out from beneath furrowed eyebrows as he stared sternly down at me, eyes that I felt could see through every layer of clothing I wore, passed my skin and breastbone to my very heart that beat wildly. But even as I sat in a haze of dazed confusion at what had just taken place my eyes, sharpened from years of lipreading registered two words; "stupid," and "idiot." I began to scratch and scrabble my way onto my wobbly legs to face the young man before me, not sure if I was shaking so much from fright any more or from rage. How dare he!? But as I began desperately signing off my explanation to him, spelling a few choice words as I went, an awful truth dawned on both myself and the young man; he couldn't understand a word I was saying, any more than I could hear him!
Hot, stinging tears began to trickle down my cheeks, and as I realized they were flowing, and more importantly realized that this boy saw I was crying, I lost all self-control and began to cry freely. But my tears weren't from fright or even embarrassment; oh no! No, these were the tears of fierce resentment and anger. Now, even now when I'd so desperately wanted to be on my own, even now when I'd so desperately desired to prove to everyone that I was okay, that I could make it on my own, I'd been forced to be saved yet again by this boy, by a stranger I didn't even know! And as these realizations washed over me and my anger boiled the tears flowed even freer until I found myself sitting back on the ground pounding my fist in pure fury. But it was in this moment of my overwhelming frustration that a calloused hand reached down and gently shook my shoulder. The boy, now wearing a mixed look or horror at his own realization and sympathy had crouched beside me, and now the blue eyes peered into my face with a much softer look. "Are you okay? Is there some way I can talk to you? Can you tell me something to do so that we can at least talk and I can explain about the snake?!" And even as he babbled, his mouth moving so fast that I had trouble to understand each of his words, my heart began to lift a bit at his concern and trying to make amends.
"I can understand you, if you'll slow down............."
Though my heart seemed to melt within me when I saw the boy's face go through such a vast array of emotions within a split second, I couldn't help but find his expressions a bit humorous. Even a greater horror, surprise, confusion, and perhaps even a bit of anger again at thinking he'd been tricked or confused crossed the young man's face. "But, but I thought you were......." He trailed off as he stared at me. And as I stared into the young man's face something in my heart told me that, though I was still humiliated and frightened, I could trust this boy, that he would listen as I explained. "I am deaf, yes, though not what doctors call `profoundly deaf.' I can read your lips, and were you to place your mouth directly over my ears, I would be able to hear a little bit, but not enough to carry on conversation." "But how did you...." "How did I learn to talk? Well, that's taken years of practice and work with my family and therapist. I'm sorry for not thinking to speak earlier. I guess I was just too upset, and I'm use to signing." I felt my face flush even more so. Why hadn't I spoken to him!? The boy stared at me for a moment. And at that moment his face grew gravely serious. "Then what the hell were you doing out here in the woods by yourself? You just about got bit over there by that snake. If I hadn't......" Anger began to surface again. How dare he lecture me!? "I'm here to go camping. I didn't know that was a crime. And as to the snake, well, yes, I'm thankful you saved my life, but I don't think I'm gonna go all over these woods, trying to see how many rattlesnakes I can find! I'm not a total idiot!" Within seconds of my rant the young man's face had softened once again to the point that he was smiling bemusedly at me. "I didn't say you're an idiot, and I can't blame you for wanting to camp. This is a great spot. I just don't think it's a good idea for you to be in the woods without someone to be with you." The anger now boiled within me. "I don't want a babysitter, thank you!"
Though I couldn't hear the tone of the boy's voice, the look that crossed his face told me everything I need to understand as I read his lips. "I didn't say you did need a babysitter. I just said it wasn't a great idea for you, not being able to hear, to be wondering around on your own. If I've been that big of a pain in your ass, I'll leave you to yourself then." I sat stunned for a moment as the words, silent as they'd been received, stung my insides as he walked away. "Wait.....wait!.....I'm sorry." He paused a moment, turning to look at me again, blue eyes boring into my soul, and that was the first time it happened; our eyes met, no one reading lips or making gestures, just our eyes meeting, locking, communicating, and I felt my heart began to beat erratically. And as I jerked myself from my daze I realized that the boy was now smiling, actually smiling, a wide smile at me as he began to move back toward where I sat. "That's okay. Just try not to be such an ass from now on," and the calloused hand reached down and grabbed me firmly under my arms before pulling my skyward again. "So, why don't we get you set up for the night?"
Over the next few hours I was to go from being exceptionally uncomfortable and angry at the young man who's name I found to be Elijah to laughing and enjoying his company thoroughly. As we worked on setting up camp he discussed and explained many things about his own life with me, as well as asking many things of mine. He was a year older than myself, attending "West End High," whereas I attended "Central." Though by his conversation I judged him to be an exceptionally smart young man, he explained that his life's ambition was to become a farmer. He explained that his grandfather, who had raised him, had fallen on harm times a couple of years earlier and had been forced to sell their ancestral farm place, a home that had been within his family bloodline for some 200 years. After this Elijah and his grandfather had moved into a small community on the far side of our county. Elijah's grandfather had shown him many things during their years together, knowledge of the woods and how to survive. He knew that the wild herb Mullein, known in the south as "Rabbit Tobacco," could be used as a tea for pain and swelling. And he knew that cattail roots from the southern swamps could be boiled and eaten like potatoes. Indeed, by the time we'd finished making camp for the night my head swam with stories and country knowledge that Elijah had shared. But as the sun began to set behind the southern pines I felt the familiar pang of hunger and realized that it had been hours since I'd eaten anything, and the smile that crossed Elijah's face as he obviously heard what I felt of my stomach growling told me that he knew what I was thinking. "Come on," he motioned," let's go get something to eat."
"Something to eat" turned out to be a dozen trout from the very stream I'd followed on my way into the forest so much earlier in the day. As I quickly realized, Elijah was a prolific fisherman. Indeed, I couldn't help but smile as I watched the look of concentration and determination that formed, and stayed, upon Elijah's face as he cast time after time into the creek that ran by where I sat. I couldn't help but be amazed, and a tiny bit envious, at the skill and knowledge that Elijah seemed to possess. It seemed that here, here among the trees and wildlife was his home. Though I knew he had a house that he shared with his grandfather somewhere just a few miles away, I somehow couldn't picture Elijah living in a regular home like regular people. It just didn't seem to be him. Indeed, were I to be honest, I had to admit that there were a great many things about Elijah I'd misjudged upon our first meeting. Though in those first few moments I'd determined to despise him for the circumstances that introduced us, I began to realize that Elijah was a warm, caring person. Yes, my grandfather would probably smile and say "he's a little rough around the edges," but though Elijah was one of those people who seemed to be the stereotypical "country boy" who spent his time outdoors, he also had a tender heart and a genuine way of showing care and respect. Indeed, the longer we spent chatting and eating that first evening the more I began to feel and affection for him. Besides my best friend from school, Elijah was the first person I'd truly allowed myself to be candid with and totally myself around in year. And it was as I pondered these things that I found myself jerked from my reverie by those two piercing blue eyes, once again, studying me, a bemused smile spread across his face. "Why the serious look? Have I pissed you off again?" And it was then that I made a decision that would forever change my life. "Would you like to stay here with me the rest of my time while I camp?"
Hello guys, Jesse here. Been quite some time since I've been able to write anything, but I've been brainstorming lately for this new project. Ideas/questions/comments would be great.