I'll Be Seeing You

  She was deep in thought, fiddling with the combination lock on her locker after school, balancing books and crutches, knowing she had to hurry if she was going to make it to her bus stop, when her notebook slipped from her hands and spilled on the hall floor.

  Kids pouring out of rooms scurried past, stepping all over the binder. She could only watch helplessly, for she was unable to stoop down and rescue her notebook for fear of being trampled. All at once a boy’s voice said, “Let me get that for you, babe.”

  She spun, forgetting to shield her face. Her rescuer was tall with dark hair and brown eyes. He was smiling, but as he caught sight of her face, his smile faded, and shocked surprise took its place. “I’ll get it,” she snapped, and struggled to hold her crutches with one hand while she bent over.

  Then another male voice intervened. “Problems, Carley?”

  It was Jon. He stooped and gathered up her notebook and scattered papers. He stood and glared at the other boy, still standing, staring. Jon snarled, “What’s your problem? If you’re not going to help, get out of the way.”

  The boy darted off.

  “Dumb jerk,” Jon muttered under his breath.

  Carley straightened, her body burning with humiliation. “Thanks for retrieving my stuff,” she said, grabbing for the notebook.

  Jon held it back. “Wait.”

  “I’ve got to hurry or I’ll miss my bus.” She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. Couldn’t stand knowing that he’d seen her humiliated by a stranger’s look.

  “I’m hanging around waiting for Janelle. Will you wait with me?” Jon asked.

  “I can’t.”

  Jon reached out and took her arm. “I want to talk to you, Carley. There’re some things I need to say. Some things I have to say. You can get a ride home with Janelle and me, so don’t run off. Hear me out. Please.”

  Twelve

  The second bell rang and Carley sighed. “Well, I don’t have much choice, do I? I’ll never make it in time to catch my bus now.”

  Jon took her books and stacked them atop his. “Come on,” he urged.

  “Where to?”

  “To the atrium.”

  The high school was built in the shape of a wheel, with the atrium at its hub and halls poking outward like spokes. With benches, potted plants, and a large overhead skylight, the atrium became an indoor student gathering place between classes and before and after school hours. Once there, Carley settled on a concrete bench emblazoned with the school seal. Jon sat down beside her and gestured toward the Fine Arts hallway. “Janelle has to come this way, so she’ll see us.”

  Carley looked at her watch. Janelle wouldn’t be out of practice for another forty-five minutes. She didn’t think she and Jon could fill up the time simply talking, but she had no choice. “All right,” she said, folding her hands in her lap, “What do you want to say to me? Ask suggestions for a Valentine’s Day gift for my sister?”

  “Buying Janelle presents isn’t ever a problem.”

  Carley hadn’t figured it would be. Pretty girls like Janelle always got gifts for Valentine’s Day. “So then what can lowly little me do for you?”

  “First off, I’m really crazy about Janelle.”

  “So tell me something I don’t know.”

  “I also know you don’t like me very much and I want to tell you that I don’t blame you. I’ve acted like a real jerk.”

  Amazed by his confession, Carley stared at him. “Well, we do agree on some things.”

  In spite of her put-down, Jon smiled. “You do have a way of delivering a line, Carley.”

  “Don’t you know? Comedy is my forte.”

  He rubbed the palms of his hands over the fabric of his jeans, and she could tell that he was nervous. “I know that you could have ruined things between Janelle and me if you wanted to.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Some girls might have done it. If … if they overheard their sister’s boyfriend saying rude stuff he didn’t mean.”

  Carley shrugged, remembering the day in the gym when she’d heard him call her a dog. “It’s ancient history, Jon. No use dredging it up.”

  “It was dumb of me. I didn’t know you were there that day, and I was smarting off for the guys, acting like a big shot. I’m really sorry because I know it hurt you.”

  He looked miserable, and she almost felt sorry for him. “I’ve heard worse,” she said. “When a person doesn’t look normal, she hears a lot worse.”

  “I haven’t been able to forget it,” he said. “Especially now that I know you better. And now that I know how much Janelle cares about you.”

  “She does?” Carley was mildly surprised. She’d always thought of Janelle as somewhat self-centered and too focused on her own life to have much interest in Carley’s.

  “She’s like a bulldog sometimes. Nobody dares say anything mean about you, ’cause if she hears about it, she marches right up to them and makes them apologize. She tells them what a hero you are to have survived cancer and show up in school every day in spite of the way the doctors left your face. I heard her go off on someone once, and after five minutes of talking about how brave and special you are, she had the girl in tears.”

  Carley couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d told her Janelle had sprouted a second head. “Janelle? My sister?”

  “Don’t you know how much she protects you?”

  At a loss for words, Carley shook her head.

  “Well, she does. She’s changed my viewpoint about people who are handicapped. Or at least, people who aren’t normal. And after getting to know you better, I agree with her. You’re all right, Carley. You kept my secret when you could have ruined things between me and Janelle.”

  She blinked, and turned her head, overwhelmed by both his apology and his revelation about her sister’s fierce loyalty toward her. “I wouldn’t try to break up the two of you.”

  “You know that thing she did for you at the hospital with the guy next door—pretending to be you—was hard on her.”

  “I know she hated to lie for me.”

  “It was more than that,” Jon said. “She told me later that sitting in that wheelchair gave her a new perspective on the world. She told me that she thinks it should be mandatory for every healthy teenager in the country to go around in a wheelchair for one day so that they can see what life’s like for people who are maimed or deformed. She said that the world looks different when you’re eye level with a person’s waist and helpless.”

  Carley saw admiration stamped all over his face and realized that she’d been as guilty of prejudice toward Janelle as others often were of her. How had she been so oblivious of her own sister’s thoughts and feelings? “I’m glad you told me,” Carley said. “I think I am … geez, now I’ll have to really be nice to her.”

  Jon grinned and stood up. “I’ve never felt about any girl the way I feel about Janelle. I mean, she’s pretty and all, but she’s also special in other ways.”

  “You’re a real cheerleader, Jon.”

  His face reddened. “Look, I didn’t mean to go on and on. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go telling her that I turned into a slobbering puppy over her.”

  “Well, as one dog to another, I think I can keep your secret,” Carley said with a straight face.

  Jon looked startled. “I told you I was sorry about saying that.”

  “I’m kidding,” she said with a smile. “Lighten up.”

  He grinned sheepishly. “Thanks for understanding.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Just then Janelle came sauntering up the hallway, books balanced on her hip. “Hi, you two.” She glanced from one to the other. “Boy, you look deep in conversation. Am I interrupting anything? What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” Carley and Jon said in unison.

  Janelle eyed them suspiciously. “It doesn’t look like nothing.”

  “You’re out early,” Carley said, switching gears.

  “Onl
y fifteen minutes. I thought you were taking the school bus home.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “I asked her to ride with us,” Jon explained.

  “So, let’s get home.” Carley stood and retrieved her crutches. “I have homework to do.”

  “I’ve got your books,” Jon said. “I’ll carry them to the car.”

  Quickly he and Carley took off side by side, leaving a befuddled Janelle to tag along behind.

  It wasn’t until the next afternoon when Janelle was driving Carley to her PT appointment that Janelle brought up the incident again. Their mother had categorically refused to allow Carley to drive herself. At least not until she was farther along in her therapy.

  Janelle said, “When I came up yesterday, the two of you were totally engrossed in conversation. And when I said hello, you both acted as if I’d intruded on some clandestine meeting.”

  “You want to talk about this now?”

  “Why not? I think the two of you were up to something and it involved me.”

  Carley felt her cheeks color. “Not true. We were just talking.”

  “Let’s not argue. Just tell me what you and Jon were talking about.”

  Carley thought fast. “Um—Valentine’s Day. He was asking my opinion on what to get you.”

  “I know you don’t care for Jon.” Janelle ignored the whole Valentine’s Day story.

  “He’s all right.”

  “You said that before, but you didn’t mean it.”

  “I’ve changed my opinion.”

  “Why?”

  Carley sighed, and fiddled with the buttons on the radio. “I’ve gotten to know him and there’s more to him than I once thought.”

  “Such as.” Janelle repositioned the car’s rearview mirror.

  “He’s not a total loser.”

  “Thanks for the endorsement.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I wasn’t sure Jon liked me. It seemed as if he was always avoiding me, and I figured it was because he couldn’t deal with my looks.”

  “Jon’s not that way.” Janelle defended him.

  “I know that now. I’m just not around guys very much, so sometimes I don’t know what to say. Or how to act.”

  “You do all right with Kyle.”

  “You know he’s different.”

  “Are you going to visit him today after your PT appointment?”

  Carley stared out the window. The Tennessee countryside looked brown and stark, making her realize what a long, dreary month January could be. “I’m not sure I should.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why prolong the agony? Once I left the hospital, I made up my mind to forget about him.”

  Janelle pulled into the parking lot adjacent to the physical therapy building attached to the Knoxville hospital. She put the car into park and turned off the engine. “I think you’re making a mistake,” she said quietly.

  “How could it be a mistake to keep some guy who thinks I’m beautiful from learning the truth?” Carley leaned her head against the seat headrest and looked up through the windshield into the blustery gray sky. Without the engine to keep the heater going, the car’s interior was chilling fast.

  “Because you’ve got a rotten perception of physical beauty and its importance,” Janelle said. “Because, believe me, being pretty isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. In fact sometimes it’s the most awful burden in the world.”

  Thirteen

  “I find that really hard to believe,” Carley said after a few minutes had passed in silence. “How can being pretty be a handicap?”

  “Because when a person’s pretty, that’s all people expect her to be. She isn’t appreciated for anything except her physical appearance.”

  “What’s so horrible about that?” Carley wanted to know. “I think it would be nice to have somebody look at me and say, ‘She’s pretty,’ instead of ‘Look, a freak.’ ”

  “Anybody who puts a value on another person just because of his or her physical attractiveness is pitiful.” Janelle’s hazel eyes fairly crackled with conviction. “I don’t want people hanging around with me because I look good, but because they like me.”

  “Get a grip,” Carley insisted. “That’s just not the way things are in the real world. All my life I’ve heard kids make fun of other kids because they were different—even before this happened to my face. I remember in the fifth grade there was this fat girl in my class. She wore thick glasses, too, and everybody made fun of her. Sometimes to the point of making her cry.”

  Carley dropped her gaze as she spoke, recalling the girl with clarity. “I’m sorry to say I teased her too. In fact after my surgery I wondered if leaving me deformed was God’s way of paying me back for being mean to her.”

  Janelle recoiled. “You can’t believe that! God’s not that way. What about all the others who teased her? Did they get cancer and get left scarred?”

  “Not that I know of.” Carley stared hard at her hands as if they might hold some answer. “But why did this happen to me? Why did I have to get left with half a face?”

  Janelle reached over and squeezed Carley’s shoulder. “Nobody has that answer. And trying to come up with one could drive you nuts.”

  “As if I’m not already.”

  Janelle wagged her finger. “Only when it comes to guys.”

  “And guys are the worst. You wouldn’t know because you’ve always had to beat them off with a stick, but they only go after girls who are pretty. Cripes, you’ve had a zillion boyfriends.”

  “A zillion?” Janelle rolled her eyes. “I’ve dated a few, but most of them hardly see me as a person, just someone they can show off to their friends.”

  Carley wasn’t the least bit sympathetic. She said, “I’m sixteen years old and I’ve never had a date.” Old hurts welled up inside her. “Why do you suppose that is? Could it be because I’m not pretty? Why isn’t my wonderful personality taken into consideration?”

  “Now you’re being sarcastic.”

  “No. I’m being realistic. I’m never going to have a date. No guy’s ever going to ask me out or take me anywhere out in public.”

  Janelle sighed heavily. “I know it seems that way now.”

  “You bet it does.”

  “Kyle might just be the one if you’d give him half a chance.”

  “So long as he’s blind and so long as we don’t have to mingle with the rest of the world, Kyle and I can have a thing for each other. But the minute his vision clears, or his friends meet the real Carley, it’ll be over between us. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”

  Janelle balled her fist and pounded the steering wheel. “You are so stubborn and bullheaded.”

  Carley quickly brought her fingers up to either side of her head like horns and snorted.

  Janelle shook her head while trying to suppress a smile. “I give up. But someday you’ll find out I’m right. Looks aren’t nearly as important as you think they are.” Janelle pointed toward the hospital. “Go on and keep your PT appointment before we have to fight about this.”

  Carley grasped the car door handle. “What are you going to do? It’s too cold to sit out here in the car.”

  “I’m going into the hospital cafeteria and have a cup of hot chocolate.” She reached into the backseat and grabbed a book. “And study for an American History test.” She made a face.

  “I’ll come there after I finish.”

  As Carley was fishing out her crutches, Janelle asked, “So what did you tell Jon?”

  “About what?”

  “About what to buy me for Valentine’s Day.”

  Now it was Carley who grinned. “I told him to think gold and pricey.”

  Janelle returned a smile and nodded. “Good advice, little sister.”

  Together they walked to the Rehabilitation building, where Janelle took the covered walkway to the hospital and Carley went inside the PT center. When she’d completed her therapy, she ventured over to the hospital, but not to the caf
eteria. Instead, she took the elevator up to her former floor, and, with heart thudding, she ambled down the hall to Kyle’s room. The door was ajar and she halted in the doorway.

  In the room she saw Kyle down on all fours, methodically feeling the floor in a circular pattern. Fascinated, she watched, realizing he was searching for something. Under the bed she spied the small foam rubber baffle that fit over the end of an earplug for comfort when wearing a headset, and she knew that’s what he was trying to find. She wanted to shout, “I see it!” She wanted to rush in and pick it up for him. Yet she did nothing but watch him pat the floor and grunt in frustration.

  Pity for him flooded through her. If he didn’t regain his sight, he would spend the remainder of his life learning to adjust to living blind in a seeing world. If he remained sightless, he’d never get to realize his dreams of working for NASA or of flying an airplane.

  Feelings of guilt twisted her insides like a sharp knife. To protect his illusions of her, she’d wanted him never to be able to see her. How unfair! No one deserved to be confined to a world of darkness if it was preventable or correctable. Just because she was limited to a less than normal life was no reason to selfishly wish the same sentence on him. Silently she pleaded to be forgiven for her attitude. Let Kyle get his sight back, she begged with all her heart.

  All at once Kyle reared up and sat stock-still. “Who’s there?” he asked.

  Caught off guard, Carley pressed her back to the door frame. She should speak up. But she didn’t.

  “Hey, I know somebody’s in the room with me. Tell me who.”

  Still she kept quiet.

  “You’re being rude, you know. I can’t see you, but I know you’re there. Why don’t you say something?” His brow furrowed and his voice sounded angry.

  Why don’t I say something? Carley couldn’t believe she was behaving this way. Couldn’t understand why she was provoking him. But her vocal cords refused to respond. It was as if they’d been cut; she was helpless to reveal herself.

  “Talk to me!” Kyle shouted.