Page 38 of The Sign for Home

“The person who you made love to? Do you still love them?”

You type“no.”This is a lie? No. This isn’t a lie. Because you can’t love something that’s not there anymore. Something that’s gone. You can love Jehovah God and Jesus, who are both invisible, but Jehovah God and Jesus are invisible for a reason. So, we can use our faith to believe in Them. The reason the unmentionable person is invisible is because of their sin. Besides, what you thought you were in love with was a lie. The person you loved never existed and never will exist again. Finish. Gone. Forgotten.

Then the Hanne person asks if you are sad at never having been in love. You say, yes you are sad, and that’s the truth, even though you are still half lying about you-know-who. Again this witchlike person uses her power to make you say something you have never told anyone. You explain that you are lonely, and that you would like a girlfriend, because you lied a minute ago, that yes, once, a long time ago, you were in love with someone. But that person is gone. And you explain how difficult it is to find someone since you have Usher syndrome. Most people can’t even talk to you. Some of the hearing girls at church do, but you doubt they would date you—or you would want to date them. The few Deaf Jehovah’s Witness girls you’ve met live far away, and they might not want to be with a Deaf man who will be totally blind someday. And if they would, you need to be spiritually strong, because Jehovah’s Witness girls like a man who is spiritually strong. And the way to prove you are spiritually strong is to get baptized, become a pioneer, and go on missions and bring as many goats to Jehovah as possible. You ask Hanne, a possible witch, not to tell anyone what you said about you having been in love before. It’s a secret. She promises. You promise to keep her secrets too.

I couldn’t bear Hanne and Arlo’s private SBC conversation any longer. When I looked out the window and saw the Able-Ride van waiting downstairs, I leaped to my feet.

“Hey, time to go!” I told Arlo, emphasizing the urgency. “The van is outside. Hurry, before he leaves!”

“Can you tell him to wait?” Arlo asked.

“Sure,” I signed, though I hesitated to leave them alone again, signaling to Hanne to wrap it up.

After running downstairs and telling the van driver that Arlo was on his way, I sprinted back up to the cafeteria. When I stepped through the door, I saw Arlo hugging Hanne goodbye. Both her hands were rubbing Arlo’s back, like she was comforting him.

“Gotta go now!” I called out.

“Cyrilje, please tell him if he emails me I will write him back, and that I look forward to seeing him again.”

“You gave him your email?” I said, an obvious chill in my voice.

“Was that wrong?” Hanne asked.

“It’s just not… whatever,” I stammered.

“Cyrilje, why are you making that ridiculous serious face? We just had a very good talk, like friends. That’s all.”

Without saying another word, nor interpreting what Hanne said, I started walking Arlo to the elevator.

Hanne shouted after us as the elevator door closed.

“Please tell Arlo not to worry! I’m good at keeping secrets!”

I wanted to rip her Belgian head off.

Later that night, after drinking a bit too much, I called Hanne.

“So,” I said, the booze removing any caution I might have felt. “Everything. I want to hear every single thing you two said to each other. Don’t lie to me.”

For a moment she didn’t say anything and all I could hear was her breathing.

“We were just introducing ourselves, Cyrilje,” Hanne finally said. There was a weariness in her voice. “I told him about my art and nursing school, he told me about wanting to go on some mission. We connected. The funny thing is, it actually felt like we had a lot in common, really.”

Hanne’s voice cracked, and it almost sounded like she was sniffling.

“What is it?” I asked. “Hanne, are you okay?”

“Oh, Cyrilje, I can’t stop thinking about that extraordinary boy. He really brings out the mommy bear in me. I asked him about his friends, and he said he hasn’t really had any since high school and that you and that Molly person are the only people he really talks to outside his homeand church. The rest of the time he’s just all alone. What kind of life is that?”

I stuttered through some pathetic suggestion that we shouldn’t judge his happiness based on our values, and that maybe he wasn’t lonely. But I knew that Hanne was probably right. And just as I was about to forgive Hanne for overstepping in her conversation with Arlo, she added, “I even wondered if there might be something else going on, like he might be gay or something, but he said no.”

“Wait—what?!” I shouted loud enough into the phone to hear the echo of my own voice. “You actually asked Arlo if he was gay?”

“So, what’s wrong with that?”

“Jesus Christ, Hanne, he’s a fucking Jehovah’s Witness. Great, now I’m gonna totally get in trouble. You can be so smart, Hanne, until you do something so stupid. Okay, now tell me, what else did you say?”

Hanne said nothing for a long time. I could sense she was pissed.

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