Free A Broken Kind of Life by Jamie Mayfield

sitting in the house reading, in different rooms, with absolutely no communication between them. He walked over to the desk and rummaged through the drawers until he found a file of menus. It reminded him of how organized his father used to be. From the top drawer, he pulled out a pad of paper and pen.
    After scanning the menu, he wrote his order on the pad and handed it to his father. Just one more thing his father had to do for him. One day soon, restaurants would start taking advantage of online ordering, and he couldn’t wait. They already used online ordering for their groceries because neither of them wanted the bother of going to the grocery store. After a cursory look through the menu, his father picked up his cell phone from the couch arm and called in their order. While Spencer couldn’t hear what he said, he could read his father’s lips and discern the weary sound of his voice from the way his body sagged on the couch.
    They said about twenty minutes, he signed after tossing the phone back onto the couch. His father looked older than Spencer had ever seen him. Bags hung low beneath his eyes, which had once been bright and full of life. Growing up, his father had always been there for him, looking out for him, teaching him how to negotiate the hearing world, but lately, he watched as his greatest ally slipped farther and farther away.
    Did you get everything you need for school? I saw the charge come through for the laptop.
    His heart slowed just a bit with the concern in his father’s expression. Maybe he wasn’t as far away as Spencer had imagined.
    Yes. I got my books yesterday. I even started reading them, Spencer answered with a tentative smile. For the first time in his life, he felt unbalanced in their relationship. They’d always been a team before—just the two of them against the world, but all that had changed recently, and Spencer didn’t know how to get it back. His father picked up the discarded book and opened it back to his page.
    Their distance weighed on him, heavy and awkward as he stood watching his father read.
    “My. College. Career. Started. With. A. Bang. The. Other. Day,” he told his father in a desperate attempt to keep his attention. He’d wanted to talk to him about it when he got home, but his dad had been in no shape for a conversation. They hadn’t really talked in weeks, and Spencer missed their easy way with each other. His friends in high school had fought constantly with their parents, but he and his father rarely argued. Lately, his dad had been locked away in his office or his bedroom while the empties piled up in the garbage.
    What do you mean? His father’s signing was clipped and halfhearted, almost like he couldn’t stand another complication right then.
    I tapped a boy on the shoulder to ask him for directions, and he freaked out. Even just the memory of it bothered Spencer.
    Freaked out how? He did not hurt you? His father’s eyes took a quick inventory of Spencer, who smiled ruefully and dropped into the big leather office chair. Whenever he sat here, in his father’s chair, he felt like a little kid at the adult table.
    No, he did not hurt me. He fell down with his hands over his head and begged me not to touch him. It scared me at first, but then I felt sad for him. The boy’s scarred face haunted him. He couldn’t imagine what had happened to force such a reaction from a simple touch, but he knew what it was like to be afraid and in pain. He knew what it was to be alone.
    Sounds like he had a flashback or a reaction to some kind of trauma. What happened to him? His father sat up straighter on the couch, his interest obviously engaged. As a clinical psychologist, someone having an episode in the middle of the quad would be of interest.
    A woman, I think it was his mom, came and helped him. I would not have left him alone. It was really awful. I had no idea what to do. Guess that is why I did not go into psychology, Spencer reasoned with a shrug. His