Page 44 of The Sign for Home

Professor Bahr spun her chair around and pulled an old hardback volume from the shelf.

“I’m giving you a copy of Whitman’sLeaves of Grass. You might enjoy reading it. Just return it by the end of the summer. I assume you can use that magnifier with it?”

Arlo nodded, beaming. He lifted the hardcover to his nose and sniffed it. Both Professor Bahr and I smiled at his gesture.

“I too love the smell of books!” she said with a laugh. “You know something, I have an idea. Instead of the other response paper assignment, I want you to try something else. Sometimes when we write out our personal stories, it reveals our true voice. So I want you to write a short informal essay about a very important day in your life. A happy moment, sad moment, it doesn’t matter. It just needs to be something vital, something you might tell someone on your deathbed. Understand? No footnotes or citations required. It won’t be due until after the July Fourth break.”

The smile that had been on Arlo’s face a moment before disappeared.

“Story about me? Private story? Deathbed?”

Professor Bahr laughed and reached across to pat Arlo on the shoulder.

“Don’t be nervous. I just mean it needsgravitas. It will be a chance to improve your grammar and for us to learn who you are. But pick one of the most important days of your life. Not some trifling nothing. Yourworst day. A day that changed everything!We all have them.”

17THE ONE WHO STAYS BEHIND

You sit at your computer in the basement of Brother Birch’s house. It is a very hot day and the dryer is running, and there is sweat pouring down your temples, and it’s a little hard to breathe. You are thinking about what Professor Lavinia Bahr has asked you to do: write a story about an important day in your life, a day that changed everything. But your skull is pressing in on your brain, maybe because of the heat, maybe because Jehovah God wants to keep all the sinful memories inside your head. You know the day you should write about, but it is the day you are forbidden to ever mention. For five long years you have worked hard to erase its memory.

Forget that day, forget that day, forget that day.

A different memory finally floats across your brain. It was November, not long after you had learned S’s name. S, who had been visiting your room every night, suddenly stopped showing up. You were confused and worried. Every night you waited up late for her, but she didn’t come.

Then one day you were sitting in your braille class, exhausted from no sleep, working on Grade 2 contractions. Martin and Big Head Lawrence were nearby. Molly had left the room for fifteen minutes and when she returned, she tapped you gently on your shoulder and you knew something was wrong.

“Come with me,” she signed. Her hands were colder than usual, and you could tell she was anxious. “We need to go to the principal’s office right away. Something has happened… I’m so sorry.”

“What?”

“The principal will tell you.”

Did they already discover that you were the one who peed in Crazy Charles’s locker? Had someone seen you kissing S in your room? Was that the reason S was not visiting you? Your mind performed all sorts of calculations. You took the square root of Molly’s silence multiplied by the slower-than-usual walk, divided by the way she signed “sorry.” You started to realize this wasn’t about what happened with Crazy Charles or with S. Molly was being too gentle, too serious.

When you arrived at the principal’s office, Molly sat you down in front of his desk. You had never met the principal before, but his power was legendary. Your face felt hot. Your stomach tightened. You wanted to pee. In a moment the principal would be explaining your sin and your punishment. There were so many red star sins you had committed. Your mind filled with images of Judgment Day, a swirling vision of lava and fire, the Great Crowd looking down upon you, huddled with the sinners and goats, all screaming and begging to be saved. Just as you were about to confess everything you had ever done, Molly started interpreting.

“Arlo,” the principal said. “We have some very sad news. It’s about your mother.”

Mama?Why would they bring your mama into this? Were you being kicked out of school? Was your mama there in the room?

“Mama here?”

“No, no. Your mother is not here. Your uncle Jonathan called us this morning.”

Jonathanwas the other name for Brother Birch. It was a name you never used for him, but it was what other people who were not in the Kingdom Hall called him. You waited for what the principal had to say next, but he appeared to take a long time, or Molly was just listening first and then would interpret his words when she understood his whole point. Again, Molly’s hands felt different. She was scared or sad or both.

“When you first came here your mother knew she was sick. That’s one of the reasons you were sent here. She was hoping she was going to get well again, but… I’m very sorry. She went into the hospital this past week and passed away sometime early this morning.”

Molly used the signpassed away.

SignPASSED AWAY: The hand facing up, fingers splayed upward as if offering something up to heaven, then descends backward through the “C”-shaped hole of the other hand. As the splayed fingers pass through the hole, they close and shrink like a withered flower.

But you misunderstood the sign. It could also mean “missing” or “disappear” or any number of words that indicated something was here and now it’s not.

“Missing?” you asked. Your heart started pounding in your chest. “Missing, why? I help! We go find her!”

Molly grabbed your hands and then, with Deaf directness, she signed, “Dead. Your mama is dead. I’m so sorry.”

Then Molly hugged you as hard as she could, but there was little comfort. You could barely feel it. Your mind traced the worddeadfrom your hand, up your arm, into your head. Suddenly you felt like you were being pushed under water. You gasped for air. Something had to be stuck inside your throat, your heart, your lungs. Why couldn’t you breathe? You pushed Molly away to try to get space. A moment later you started signing violently into the blur.

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