Page 80 of The Sign for Home

“Stop lying! Jehovah God hates liars! Bible says…”

Brother Birch stumbles over the fingerspelling of the biblical characters’ names. He is quoting the story he taught once in Bible study about Ananias and Sapphira lying to the Apostle Peter. The lesson was that any time you lie to anyone, you are also lying to the Holy Spirit.

“Arlo! You know that Jehovah God K-I-L-L-E-D them for lying? Now, tell me what else you are H-I-D-I-N-G!”

What else does he know? Can he also look inside the trash folder of your brain? No. He can’t.

“I sorry,” you sign slowly to him. “I wrote about sinful time. Never again.”

Again Brother Birch angrily punches his hands into yours, shouting, “Why do you keep lying to me?!”

The table shakes from his body bouncing up and down. He’s disappointed you aren’t his good DeafBlind JW miracle boy anymore. The one who will keep the secrets of his own hypocrisy. You aren’t useful any longer.

“You break Jehovah God’s heart! You break my heart! College bad I-N-F-L-U-E-N-C-E on you. Interpreter C-Y-R-I-L is bad man! Bad man! He help you write E-S-S-A-Y?”

“No, no. Cyril knows nothing. My fault. I use computer at school. Very sorry. I sin. Never do again. Promise!”

You wait a long time for Brother Birch to say something. When he finally does, he doesn’t appear to be angry. He is calm and gentle. This scares you more.

“I am sorry,” he says. “I am sorry I A-N-G-R-Y. We all C-O-M-M-I-T sins sometimes. I am a sinner too. If we sin, then we ask F-O-R-G-I-V-E-N-E-S-S. Do you ask for F-O-R…?”

Before he can finish spelling the word, you tell him, yes, you ask Jehovah God for forgiveness. But inside, you don’t. Next Brother Birch has you take out your SBC so he can write in his own language rather than struggling through yours. He types:

“Good. You are a good boy, Arlo, but the Devil is testing you. So, as your guardian, I will help you commit no more sins. From now on, you are not allowed to submit any more assignments without me or Molly checking them. Understand? Also, you can’t go to the Abilities Institute, the Dunkin’ Donuts, or anywhere else alone between now and when we leave for Ecuador. Do you understand?”

But how will you go see Shri if you can’t find time away from Molly and Brother Birch? You want to confront Brother Birch about his lies and tell him you know about his sins. But, like Larry said, you need to be smarter.

“I understand,” you say. “I sorry. I not go anywhere alone. I not write personal story ever again. Promise!”

Then you look up to heaven and fold your hands and pretend to pray.

“Jehovah God, Jesus… I sinner. Please forgive me and help me not sin again. Hallelujah!”

“Good boy,” Brother Birch signs, waving theI love yousign. “You are like”—he uses the sign forlike, as in “favoring something,” rather than the sign that meanssimilar—“my O-W-N son. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Molly loves you… uh… T-O-O. Everything we do is to teach you a G-O-D-L-Y path. Understand?”

“Understand,” you say, then, switching into very basic Signed English: “I will try to be spiritually strong man.”

Brother Birch pats your hand, and via the SBC he reminds you about your potential for bringing many sinful goats into the flock of Jehovah God. Then he types:

“I already booked the Able-Ride for an hour early for your class trip to Albany on Friday. 8 a.m. pickup with a 6 p.m. return. I’m not going to be around or available that morning, since I’m going down to Tuxedo Park for an important Elders meeting. So, you should email Molly and tell her to meet you here at 7:30 a.m. It sounds like a nice field trip. The night before I’ll leave a baloneysandwich in the refrigerator for you to bring. Your favorite!”

And that’s when you come up with your plan.

35SAVIOR SYNDROME

Hanne and I met at Caffe Aurora on Mill Street near the train station. Except for the cashier and some random midsummer tourists, we were the only ones there. While Hanne was finishing reading the final email exchange with Big Head Lawrence, I stared at the huge display of chocolate teddy bears with bulging black-and-white sugar eyeballs. They appeared to be in a state of shock—just like Hanne and me.

“This is not possible,” she said.

“I know. When he told me, I thought maybe he was just having some wish-fulfilling fantasy. Christ knows I’ve had the same daydream about Bruno suddenly coming back to life. But that’s what Larry told him. S—Shri Mukherjee—is alive. I even looked into it. I called the Rose Garden School. They wouldn’t give me the name, but they confirmed that a student did fall from the roof almost six years ago. There were no deaths.”

I could see Hanne’s stunned look turn to rage as she came to the same conclusion.

“Those people should be arrested!” she said, banging her fist on the marble table.

---