Linda Hall - Shadows On The River

“Well, actually…” I paused, caught my breath. “Maybe I’ll come. Mark us down.”

Katie and I were friends. Our daughters were the same age and both deaf. They had been placed in the same regular classroom, where a full-time interpreter worked with them throughout the day. Katie was an extremely energetic woman who worked hard to help her daughter succeed. We had a lot in common, yet nothing in common. Katie didn’t work. She didn’t have to. Her husband’s job provided all the money they needed and then some. Katie devoted her life to the deaf community, making sure that Miranda had the best possible care and opportunities.

I was grateful to Katie for all the work she did on behalf of the deaf community. Sometimes I felt I didn’t have the time, strength or money to advocate for my daughter’s care the way Katie did. There are times when I feel so overwhelmed.

Katie and her husband also had another child, a hearing girl who was four. Plus, they went to church. I’m not sure which one. When they would ask me if Maddy could attend with them, I always said no, even though Maddy sometimes begged to go and they had a full-time sign-language interpreter on staff.

They never pressed. I was grateful for that. Katie knew nothing about where I came from and what had happened to me, and why I was so adamantly against church. She probably figured I’d been raised like most of the people my age, in a secular family. It would probably surprise her to know I knew a few Sunday School songs. They popped into my thoughts at the oddest moments, as did prayers.

Rod and Jolene arrived ten minutes later. Jolene hugged me. She was looking more and more radiant. The fringed ends of a skinny, shimmery scarf wound many times around her neck, draped down across her round belly. She also wore a set of long silver chandelier earrings. I asked, “And how are we feeling?”

“Both of us are healthy and happy and waiting for this little girl to show her face. Only a couple more weeks.”

I said, “Wow! I can’t believe it’s so soon.” I paused. “I thought you were shopping with your mother today.”

“Rod called me on my cell. He told me everything on the way over.” She smiled widely and said, “All I can say is this is probably a blessing in disguise.”

“How can you say that?”

“You guys’ll do just great. Rod is talented and, Ally, you’re so brilliant. You have nothing to worry about. My husband, Mr. Perfection, will have no trouble getting more contracts. There’s already a bunch of stuff we’re working on bids for.”

“But this one was so big.”

“Don’t give it another thought.”

I’ve always thought it strange that this glass-is-half-full person married someone like Rod, whose glass is usually half-empty. But I guess between them they end up with a full glass, so it works. Rod spread out sheets filled with numbers and figures on my dining-room table, while Jolene leaned against the wall and talked with me about baby furniture.

Some might say Jolene’s nose is a bit too long and too pinched—aquiline, she calls it—and her lips too thin to be attractive by today’s standards. Yet Jolene has an individuality. Her black plastic rectangular glasses only add to her look.

“But this was our chance at the big leagues,” I said.

“You guys are already in the big leagues, especially you, Ally. What I want to know is how is the Maddy?”

“She’s upstairs, barely speaking to me.”

“No, I mean, your boat design, the Maddy.”

“Oh,” I said, “I get to it every now and then.” Named for my daughter, the Maddy was the name I’d given to my design.

“Maybe this is what you and Rod should be working on. That’s what I vote for and speaking of the other Maddy, would she mind if I went up and said hello?”

“She likes you. Maybe you can get her out of her mood.”

After she left, Rod tapped the papers with his pen. “The problem is that we made the mistake of putting all our eggs in one basket.”

He was about to say something more when the doorbell rang. My heart skipped a little beat. Mark had arrived. Self-consciously I checked my reflection in the hall mirror before I answered it. Hair a mess as usual. And why hadn’t I at least put on a bit of makeup? And what was I thinking with this old sweatshirt? And why was I thinking about Mark in this way, anyway? As soon as Rod told him the news, he’d be gone and on to another job. A thought struck me as I opened the door: I should show him my Maddy boat design. I quashed that idea just as soon as I answered the door and he smiled down at me.

“Come in,” I said. “Rod and Jolene are here already.”

His eyes lingered on mine for a moment. “Must be a serious meeting,” he said.

“Let me take your coat.” He shrugged out of his green jacket. As I hung it up I noted the fraying around the collar. He probably needed this job as much as I did.

Mark hadn’t even had a chance to sit down before Rod broke the news. “The project’s been pulled out from under us. That’s the reason for this meeting.”

Mark stopped in his tracks. “Wow, how’d that happen?”

“Stupidity,” Rod said. “On my part. I should have been more aware. It was my fault for hiring too fast and too soon, for hiring both of you before it was in the bag.” Rod placed both hands flat on the table. Mark and I sat down next to each other and across from him. I was conscious of how close Mark was to me.

“Jolene and I have the money to keep both you and Mark for a couple of weeks if you want,” Rod said. “There are a couple of other projects we’re bidding on. I don’t want to be unfair about this. You’ve done a lot of work already and I want to make sure you’re fairly compensated.”

Mark tapped his long fingers on the table. He took off his glasses, folded them shut and placed them on the table. I heard a thump from upstairs, wondered if I should run up there and check on Maddy, decided not to when I heard no more. Jolene was up there. Jolene could take care of it.

Mark said, “To say I’m not disappointed would be a lie. I’ve really enjoyed working with Ally on this.” He seemed to move a little closer to me when he said this. I felt a heat rise in my face. He went on, “But, I’ve been in this business long enough to know how things work. And how sometimes they don’t work the way we plan.” Quietly, he added, “I know God will have something else for me….”

I was very still as I looked at a spot on the table. I flicked at it with a fingernail. His casual reference to God unnerved me. I’m impressed with people who refer to God in casual conversation, like a friend. Even when I did go to church regularly, God was never someone who looked out for the little things in life. Mark had stopped talking and was staring at the stack of computer printouts about Larry Fremont and Paul Ashton that I had placed beside my computer. Right on top was an article about Ashton’s death with a full color picture of the man. I could kick myself for leaving these things right out there in the open.

Rod started in about future bids and direction while Mark stared at my printouts. His eyes were still on them when he said, “I could always go back to Florida. There might be work for me there…back at the marina.”

I listened as Rod talked about future projects, about future ideas and directions. I could barely concentrate. More than anything I wanted to grab that stack of papers from beside my computer and shove it deep within the confines of my garbage can.

When we were finished I asked if anyone would like coffee. I’d made some.

“Not me,” Jolene said emerging from the hallway and holding Maddy’s hand. “But if you have any herbal tea, I’d kiss your little ears.”

She signed as she spoke, and Maddy burst out laughing. Jolene’s hair was held back, I noticed, by one of Maddy’s pink butterfly barrettes. The three of us females went into the kitchen.

Jolene maneuvered herself into one of my kitchen chairs and we chatted about how she was feeling, signing at the same time so Maddy could be part of the conversation. When I first started studying American sign language, Jolene joined me. She’s now fairly fluent and says she’s planning to teach her own baby to sign before she even speaks.

Jolene was also with me when I first understood that Maddy was deaf. My baby didn’t turn to loud noises. I would stand to one side of her and clap my hands and she wouldn’t turn or flinch. I would stand behind her and call her name. Nothing.

I’d sit on my couch and rock back and forth and hope I had it wrong. Maybe it was something simple. But I knew the worst one day while visiting Rod and Jolene and we were outside in the backyard. A truck rumbled by. Just as it neared the house it backfired. The sound was loud and excruciating. All of us jumped. Maddy sat in her high chair and grinned.

Jolene went with me the next day when I took her to the doctor and then the audiologist who confirmed my suspicion. She was profoundly deaf, cause unknown.

I knew absolutely nothing about deafness then or caring for a deaf child. I barely knew that there was a sign language. Through the years I’ve learned enough to fill a bookshelf. And I have. I have many books on deafness. I have pamphlets and printouts from the Internet, information on the deaf culture, signing, and hundreds of government leaflets and pamphlets on everything from implants to hearing aids to deaf literacy. Amassing this information, learning everything I can, meeting and talking with many deaf people has been, practically, my full-time job since Maddy was born.

My own career took a back seat.

By the time we went back to the dining room with mugs of coffee on a tray, Rod was hunched into his laptop, furiously clacking at the keys, and Mark had actually picked up the sheaf of papers I’d printed and was leafing through them. He raised his eyebrows at me when I came in.

I put the tray on the table and Mark asked me if he could see my boat design. I said, maybe. He carefully put the printouts back beside my computer aligning the edges and stacking them precisely. He patted the stack as a final gesture.

I stirred in milk and sugar and said, “Did you guys find anything?”

Rod said, “We’ve been surfing the Web for possible projects.”

Jolene said, “I think you should work on the Maddy.”

“The what?” Mark said.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I said.

“It’s not nothing,” Jolene said. “It’s Ally’s idea for a slick, one-person racing sailboat.”

His eyes brightened. “Really? I’d like to see that.”

“Maybe sometime. It’s not ready. Have some coffee.”

While we drank our coffee and Maddy played with her ponies on the floor, Mark tried to get me to talk about my design. Just like the previous day, when the meeting naturally came to an end, Mark didn’t rise to leave first.

I handed Mark his coat, and said that I guessed the meeting hadn’t been all that bad and how I was happy to get to work together for a little bit longer.

“I would like to continue working with you,” he said.

“Well, yes, it’s been fun.”

He paused, took a breath and said quietly, “May I ask why you printed out all those news articles on Paul? If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to. If I’m prying, that is.”

“I was interested in the story.”

“You always print off random articles?” He paused. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry.”

“No, uh. It’s okay.” I paused. “Maybe you should know, especially because you knew Paul Ashton. Larry Fremont and I grew up in the same town.”