Chapter 27

Since I spent most of my days with Mrs. Campbell, I didn’t get much time to meet other kids. So I was pretty stoked when Brian asked me to sit with him at lunch. It would be a good end to my first week.

Some guys and me are going to kick the ball around after lunch, want to play? Brian had signed when I ran into him in the hall that morning. Despite being excited by the invitation, I couldn’t help but worry about looking foolish. What would Brian think if he saw how uncoordinated I was? He’d never believe I’d once played baseball, the pitcher for my team, lightning fast around the bases… I was lucky I was getting around without the cane; I couldn’t risk anything more in public.

I wish I could, I had signed, relieved at having an excuse. I meet with Dr. Stein after lunch. So we had settled on just lunch. Friday marked my first cafeteria meal since the food fight. I felt nervous. I barely ate, and mostly stabbed the food, scraping it from one edge of the plate to the other.

Brian signed, You don’t seem too thrilled about your meeting with Dr. Stein. He’s cool. Want me to walk over with you?

Losing my appetite entirely, I dropped the fork onto the tray and leaned back in the chair. I wished I could have heard the fork clank when it hit, echoing in the almost-empty cafeteria. I didn’t know if a lot of people went home early for the weekend or what, but the campus felt deserted.

No, thank you. I’m good. I stood up. See you on Monday?

Have a good weekend!

As I wandered out of the cafeteria and over to Dr. Stein’s office, I wondered what he might want to talk about—hopefully not the fight with Eiji. That had been so lame. I planned on staying away from Eiji. So it wasn’t like there was an issue anymore. As I got closer, I could feel the back of my knees sweating.

I didn’t want to be late, but I wasn’t in any hurry either. I kept hoping Dr. Stein had been in a rush at the beginning of the week when he wrote out the appointment card and had forgotten to add the date and time to his calendar. At least it was ­Friday—and I’d be going home for the weekend. Thinking about that, I realized I could get through this.

Dr. Stein looked up from his desk when I arrived and waved me in. He stood up to shake my hand and then went over and shut the door. The room looked more in order than it had over the summer. And so did the doctor: no more jeans and sneakers. He wore a charcoal-gray suit, with the jacket carefully placed on a hanger on his coat rack. His sleeves were cuffed at the wrist and the knot in his maroon tie was stiffly slotted up against the throat of his white dress shirt. The table that had been in the center of the office was gone. Instead, he now had a leather couch and two recliner chairs. A coffee table occupied the space between them.

How was your first week? he signed.

“Good,” I said.

Learning sign language okay?

“Yes,” I answered impatiently. I was ready to know what this meeting was about.

I understand you have Mrs. Campbell. How are things going?

“I like her. She’s teaching me a lot.” I wanted to say more, but instead I looked up at the ceiling. I wasn’t sure what each question meant or where it would lead or how he would end up evaluating me because of the things I said or didn’t say. I bit down on my lower lip.

What if you answer in sign for this talk? He continued signing. It helps me keep up on my skills.

Fine, I signed succinctly.

Want to talk about anything?

Like the fight? It seemed like the whole reason for this visit in the first place. I hadn’t wanted to bring it up. It was almost like he tricked me.

If you’d like.

There’s nothing to talk about. I gave up on my hands and started to say “Eiji . . .” before cutting myself short. He might be a bully and a jerk, but what more was there to say?

Dr. Stein raised his hands as if agreeing with me. Did you tell anyone about what happened?

No. Nothing to tell, really.

I see, he answered. And how are you adjusting to living here in Rochester?

It’s okay.

And being away from your family?

I’m looking forward to going home for the weekend, I admitted. Dad always tried to make sure everything seemed okay, but I knew he was worried about money. Mom’s over-protectiveness drove me a little crazy, but right now, I kind of missed it. I didn’t expect my feelings for them to come up so strongly in the doctor’s office. I missed them. Even Marie.

I felt tears pool in my eyes. For a moment, my vision blurred. I wiped them away with the back of my hand.

He acted like he didn’t notice. How’s everything else?

I’m doing fine. If anything, it is the static in my ears that is really bothering me, I signed, deciding to change the subject.

That must be bothersome. Is it all the time?

No, I signed. But it is a lot of the time.

Is it ringing now?

No.

Dr. Stein shifted his weight around in the chair and signed some more. I have a different question for you. How has becoming deaf made you feel?

“Feel? What do you mean?” I was so taken aback by this question that I started speaking again. I was doing fine and didn’t need to probe at every nook and cranny in my brain. And I was certainly not going to talk about baseball.

You went from hearing to deaf almost in an instant, he explained. I am wondering how that change has made you feel. It must be a lot to handle. Anger seems like a natural response. Have you felt angry?

“Would getting angry give me my hearing back? No,” I said. “So why get angry about it? I’m accepting it. There’s nothing I can do to change anything that has happened to me. For some reason I must have done something wrong and life is punishing me for it.”

He wrote something down on a pad of paper. Punishment, he signed. Do you blame yourself, Marco?

I don’t blame anyone, I signed, but it wasn’t true. Someone or something had to be the cause of this. I didn’t give myself the disease. I blamed whomever the contagious person was who gave me meningitis. I blamed the doctors for not controlling my fever. I blamed technology for not being able to fix my hearing. I could think of a lot of blame to go around.

But did I blame myself? Good question.

I’d like to meet with you again, Marco.

I guess, I signed.

How about next Friday?

“Sure,” I said, standing up. “Why not?”

Have a great weekend and say hello to your family for me.

You, too, I signed, getting out of there as quickly as I could.