Chris had just been about to peel off his shirt and check for cracked ribs - Dan had definitely broken skin today, and there was another unsalvageable shirt down the drain - when there was another knock at the door. Chris growled and heaved himself off his bed. If it was Eric’s lab partner, back for yet another notebook, Chris was going to throttle the kid.
“Look,” he said, “Eric’s not here, and I’m not going to keep giving you his stuff --”
“I don’t know who Eric is.” Sarah stood in the doorway, mouth pressed into an uncertain line. Dianne sat obediently beside her.
“...Hi.” Chris was careful not to say her name; as far as she was concerned, he had no reason to know her name. “I think you have the wrong room. One floor up or one floor down - those are both girls’ halls.”
“I’m looking for Chris Hensley,” she said.
“That’s me,” Chris said. How did she know his full name?
“I knew as soon as you spoke,” she said, and she reached up, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I listen to your voice all the time.” Then she blushed.
“You do?” Chris asked stupidly.
“Yeah. You read textbooks for me.”
“Oh. Right. What can I do for you?”
Sarah ducked her head. “I didn’t know where else to go. Professor Spinelli handed out an additional case for tomorrow’s reading assignment, one that wasn’t in the book, and it wasn’t on the tape, and when I went to the office, Joyce said maybe you could help me --” Her grip on Dianne’s harness was white-knuckled.
“Of course,” Chris said. “Do you have the case with you?”
Sarah nodded. “It’s in my bag. I’m really sorry - I can come back later if it’s more convenient --”
“Now is fine,” Chris said, and he wanted to kick himself. He sounded too eager, didn’t he? “My roommate’s out. Why don’t you come in and have a seat?”
“Thanks.” Sarah stepped over the threshold into Chris’s room, let Dianne lead her over to the desk, and then she sat down in Chris’s chair. He went to close the door behind her, then thought better of it.
And then he panicked. His picture of her was right there over his desk for anyone to see -- expect her. Right.
He perched tentatively on the edge of his bed, close to her, and he hadn’t felt like a stranger in his own room since he was a child.
“All right. What have you got for me?”
Sarah reached into her book bag, searching with deft hands. It was a touch uncanny, the way she felt without turning her head toward her bag. She handed Chris stack of papers stapled together in one corner.
“Here,” she said. “Will you read to me?”
Chris accepted the paper gingerly. “Sure,” he said.
And she smiled at him. “Thanks.”
(481 words)
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Action After Hours
Chris tugged his hoodie up to shield his face - his black eye was painful and obvious, and even the ever-oblivious Eric would ask questions. He jammed his hands into the pockets and started toward the park. He’d deal with the bloody sports tape later.
And then he saw Sarah and Dianne walking along the pavement ahead of him. What was she doing out this late? Blind people weren’t at the same disadvantage at night as seeing people, but campus was downtown, and it wasn’t safe for her, not when - not when a guy like Blake was leaning under a lamppost, drinking from a hip flask and eyeing Sarah like she was his next meal. Chris’s hands curled into fists.
Blake arched an eyebrow when he noticed Sarah’s cane, and he stuck a foot out, kicked a tiny pebble. Sarah jumped, tugged on Dianne’s harness, and Dianne paused obediently.
Something akin to fear crossed Sarah’s face. "Let's go," she said.
Blake peeled himself away from the lamppost and fell into step behind her. Chris automatically ducked back into the shadows; Blake hadn’t seen him yet.
Dianne, on the other hand, had noticed Blake, and she growled. Chris saw Sarah flinch. She called out, “Who’s there?” and then Dianne snarled.
"Hey sugar.” Blake stepped up behind Sarah, and his grin went from amused to dangerous.
Sarah’s shoulders tightened, and she shifted away from him, almost imperceptibly.
"Now don't be like that honey,” Blake drawled. "Tell Fido to calm down and we can get to know each other."
"I don't think that I want to get to know you.” Sarah’s words were bold, but even Chris could tell she was afraid.
Blake raised his eyebrows, circled her like a shark eyeing a fish separated from its shining school. He chuckled when Dianne snarled again, hunkered down in front of Sarah with her fur standing on end.
Blake reached into his jacket, and Chris remembered that Blake liked to keep a butterfly blade on hand; he thought he looked hardcore because he could flip it open like a 1950’s greaser.
Chris stepped forward, into the wan yellow glow of a streetlight. “Leave the woman alone, why don’t you?”
Blake blinked and took a step back from Sarah. “This doesn’t concern you.”
"Clearly she doesn't want to have anything to do with you,” Chris said, moving closer to Sarah, “and the best thing for you to do would be to go away and leave her alone.”
"And what if I don't?" Blake looked Chris up and down, smirking disdainfully.
Chris tugged back his hood. "Then I will just have to make you.”
Blake laughed, spread his arms wide. "Bring it on!"
After twelve years of bare-knuckle boxing, a guy like Blake was an easy match. He was strong, but he wasn’t as fast as he thought he was, and he lacked the necessary form to hit very hard. Chris had to duck and weave to avoid Blake’s knife, but he landed a solid uppercut that sent Blake sprawling. Once he was sure Blake was unconscious, he turned to find Sarah, who was huddled beside Dianne and shaking like a leaf.
"Are you all right?" Chris stood beside her, unsure of whether to hunker down beside her or just keep standing. Was he looming?
Sarah nodded, though she kept her face buried in Dianne’s fur.
Chris offered a hand even though she couldn’t see the gesture. "Can I help you?"
A sound half like laughter, half like a sob spilled from Sarah. “I think you already did.”
Chris glanced back to where Blake was lying on the pavement; he wasn’t sure he’d been that much help. "Can I walk you home? Just to make sure you get there safe. You shouldn't walk alone at this time of night."
“Yes.” Sarah patted Dianne gently, and Chris realized that Dianne hadn’t growled at him once.
“I would be grateful,” Sarah added. “This way.”
Chris actually knew where she lived by virtue of having seen her paperwork in the office, but he walked beside her anyway, letting her interject directions into his long ramble about Kierkegaard. He knew she was shaken, that she wouldn’t say more, but he was sure that if she said too much she would recognize his voice, and then what could he possibly say?
Maybe he could tell her how much he liked her.
And then he saw Sarah and Dianne walking along the pavement ahead of him. What was she doing out this late? Blind people weren’t at the same disadvantage at night as seeing people, but campus was downtown, and it wasn’t safe for her, not when - not when a guy like Blake was leaning under a lamppost, drinking from a hip flask and eyeing Sarah like she was his next meal. Chris’s hands curled into fists.
Blake arched an eyebrow when he noticed Sarah’s cane, and he stuck a foot out, kicked a tiny pebble. Sarah jumped, tugged on Dianne’s harness, and Dianne paused obediently.
Something akin to fear crossed Sarah’s face. "Let's go," she said.
Blake peeled himself away from the lamppost and fell into step behind her. Chris automatically ducked back into the shadows; Blake hadn’t seen him yet.
Dianne, on the other hand, had noticed Blake, and she growled. Chris saw Sarah flinch. She called out, “Who’s there?” and then Dianne snarled.
"Hey sugar.” Blake stepped up behind Sarah, and his grin went from amused to dangerous.
Sarah’s shoulders tightened, and she shifted away from him, almost imperceptibly.
"Now don't be like that honey,” Blake drawled. "Tell Fido to calm down and we can get to know each other."
"I don't think that I want to get to know you.” Sarah’s words were bold, but even Chris could tell she was afraid.
Blake raised his eyebrows, circled her like a shark eyeing a fish separated from its shining school. He chuckled when Dianne snarled again, hunkered down in front of Sarah with her fur standing on end.
Blake reached into his jacket, and Chris remembered that Blake liked to keep a butterfly blade on hand; he thought he looked hardcore because he could flip it open like a 1950’s greaser.
Chris stepped forward, into the wan yellow glow of a streetlight. “Leave the woman alone, why don’t you?”
Blake blinked and took a step back from Sarah. “This doesn’t concern you.”
"Clearly she doesn't want to have anything to do with you,” Chris said, moving closer to Sarah, “and the best thing for you to do would be to go away and leave her alone.”
"And what if I don't?" Blake looked Chris up and down, smirking disdainfully.
Chris tugged back his hood. "Then I will just have to make you.”
Blake laughed, spread his arms wide. "Bring it on!"
After twelve years of bare-knuckle boxing, a guy like Blake was an easy match. He was strong, but he wasn’t as fast as he thought he was, and he lacked the necessary form to hit very hard. Chris had to duck and weave to avoid Blake’s knife, but he landed a solid uppercut that sent Blake sprawling. Once he was sure Blake was unconscious, he turned to find Sarah, who was huddled beside Dianne and shaking like a leaf.
"Are you all right?" Chris stood beside her, unsure of whether to hunker down beside her or just keep standing. Was he looming?
Sarah nodded, though she kept her face buried in Dianne’s fur.
Chris offered a hand even though she couldn’t see the gesture. "Can I help you?"
A sound half like laughter, half like a sob spilled from Sarah. “I think you already did.”
Chris glanced back to where Blake was lying on the pavement; he wasn’t sure he’d been that much help. "Can I walk you home? Just to make sure you get there safe. You shouldn't walk alone at this time of night."
“Yes.” Sarah patted Dianne gently, and Chris realized that Dianne hadn’t growled at him once.
“I would be grateful,” Sarah added. “This way.”
Chris actually knew where she lived by virtue of having seen her paperwork in the office, but he walked beside her anyway, letting her interject directions into his long ramble about Kierkegaard. He knew she was shaken, that she wouldn’t say more, but he was sure that if she said too much she would recognize his voice, and then what could he possibly say?
Maybe he could tell her how much he liked her.
Help in the Night
"The time is 11:47 p.m."
A click resounded over the line and I knew I was going to be in trouble. Mom was going to kill me. I slammed shut my text books and stuffed them into my bag. "Come Dianne," I said. I grasped the handle to her harness and commanded, "home."
Dianne immediately started to lead me and we left the Library. I hurried down the steps of the campus Law building as safely as was possible. I could feel the cool night air whisper across my cheek as I picked up the pace. "I can't believe that I let myself lose track of time like that," I muttered. It sounded much different outside now than it usually did; much quieter. I couldn't hear many people around me and the traffic was faint and far away.
I was passing the park when I heard a rock clatter against the pavement, causing me to jump. I pulled Dianne to a stop for a second, listening. I heard nothing.
"Let's go," I urged my companion. A few moments later I was certain that I heard faint footstep behind me and I quickened my pace again.
The vibrations from Dianne's growl reached my hand just after the sound reached my ears. "Who's there?" I asked. I knew it was stupid, but it somehow made me feel better to hear my own voice. As unsteady as it was.
Dianne let out a snarl and I could feel that tingle that let me know that someone was nearby.
"Hey sugar," an oily voice came to me from close by.
I flinched away from the voice.
"Now don't be like that honey." There was faint amusement in the voice now, "tell Fido to calm down and we can get to know each other."
I cleared my throat, "I don't think that I want to get to know you," I said in the strongest voice I could bring up; though even to my own ears it sounded pathetically weak and jittery.
He chuckled from to my right and I could tell that he was circling me. Dianne moved with him, keeping herself between me and Oily. I jumped again when she let out a particularly vicious snarl.
"Leave the woman alone why don't you," a new voice broke in.
"This doesn't concern you," Oily said, though I could tell that he had stepped back a little.
"Clearly she doesn't want to have anything to do with you and the best thing for you to do would be to go away and leave her alone," he said. His tone was deep and carried a strong and soothing quality; a tone of command. Whoever he was, his voice was enough to make me feel safe at the moment.
"And what if I don't?" Oily taunted. He was moving away from me towards the other man.
"Then I will just have to make you," he said.
Oily laughed, "Bring it on!"
I went to my knees and buried my face in Dianne's neck when I heard the first blows, seeking comfort and trying my best to not hear what happened. I covered my ears, but I could still hear the sickening sound of flesh on flesh and the grunts of pain.
A few moments later there was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing nearby. I didn't know who had won the fight.
Dianne growled and I hugged her tighter, fearing the worst. That Oily had won and the strong voiced man had lost the fight and he was coming for me.
"Are you alright?" the strong voiced man asked.
Relief flooded through me at the sound of his voice. I nodded my head mutely, to shaken to say anything.
"Can I help you?" he asked gently.
A relieved laugh burbled up in my throat, "I think you already did," I said. I slowly released Dianne and stood up shakily.
"Can I walk you home?" he asked, "just to make sure you get there safe. You shouldn't walk alone at this time of night."
"Yes," I said and ran a soothing hand over Dianne to calm her, "I would be grateful."
As we moved in the direction of my home he kept up a soothing line of commentary. I didn't really listen to what he said, I just focused on the sound of his voice.
It seemed so familiar...
A click resounded over the line and I knew I was going to be in trouble. Mom was going to kill me. I slammed shut my text books and stuffed them into my bag. "Come Dianne," I said. I grasped the handle to her harness and commanded, "home."
Dianne immediately started to lead me and we left the Library. I hurried down the steps of the campus Law building as safely as was possible. I could feel the cool night air whisper across my cheek as I picked up the pace. "I can't believe that I let myself lose track of time like that," I muttered. It sounded much different outside now than it usually did; much quieter. I couldn't hear many people around me and the traffic was faint and far away.
I was passing the park when I heard a rock clatter against the pavement, causing me to jump. I pulled Dianne to a stop for a second, listening. I heard nothing.
"Let's go," I urged my companion. A few moments later I was certain that I heard faint footstep behind me and I quickened my pace again.
The vibrations from Dianne's growl reached my hand just after the sound reached my ears. "Who's there?" I asked. I knew it was stupid, but it somehow made me feel better to hear my own voice. As unsteady as it was.
Dianne let out a snarl and I could feel that tingle that let me know that someone was nearby.
"Hey sugar," an oily voice came to me from close by.
I flinched away from the voice.
"Now don't be like that honey." There was faint amusement in the voice now, "tell Fido to calm down and we can get to know each other."
I cleared my throat, "I don't think that I want to get to know you," I said in the strongest voice I could bring up; though even to my own ears it sounded pathetically weak and jittery.
He chuckled from to my right and I could tell that he was circling me. Dianne moved with him, keeping herself between me and Oily. I jumped again when she let out a particularly vicious snarl.
"Leave the woman alone why don't you," a new voice broke in.
"This doesn't concern you," Oily said, though I could tell that he had stepped back a little.
"Clearly she doesn't want to have anything to do with you and the best thing for you to do would be to go away and leave her alone," he said. His tone was deep and carried a strong and soothing quality; a tone of command. Whoever he was, his voice was enough to make me feel safe at the moment.
"And what if I don't?" Oily taunted. He was moving away from me towards the other man.
"Then I will just have to make you," he said.
Oily laughed, "Bring it on!"
I went to my knees and buried my face in Dianne's neck when I heard the first blows, seeking comfort and trying my best to not hear what happened. I covered my ears, but I could still hear the sickening sound of flesh on flesh and the grunts of pain.
A few moments later there was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing nearby. I didn't know who had won the fight.
Dianne growled and I hugged her tighter, fearing the worst. That Oily had won and the strong voiced man had lost the fight and he was coming for me.
"Are you alright?" the strong voiced man asked.
Relief flooded through me at the sound of his voice. I nodded my head mutely, to shaken to say anything.
"Can I help you?" he asked gently.
A relieved laugh burbled up in my throat, "I think you already did," I said. I slowly released Dianne and stood up shakily.
"Can I walk you home?" he asked, "just to make sure you get there safe. You shouldn't walk alone at this time of night."
"Yes," I said and ran a soothing hand over Dianne to calm her, "I would be grateful."
As we moved in the direction of my home he kept up a soothing line of commentary. I didn't really listen to what he said, I just focused on the sound of his voice.
It seemed so familiar...
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