Free A Chance at Love by T. K. Chapin Page B

Well, tell us what you learned.”
    “It ended up not being that big of a deal. She’s just blind.”
    Joanie choked on the glass of water she was drinking and my mother set her fork down.
    “What?” my mother asked, her eyes wide.
    Joanie wiped her mouth with her cloth napkin and leaned in. “Are you serious right now? Blind?”
    I nodded and asked, “Yeah. What’s the big deal?”
    “Honey . . .” my mother began to say in sympathetic voice. “I don’t think you understand.”
    I shook my head. “Seriously? I get it. She can’t see things. It’s not like it’s going to affect much.”
    “She’ll forever need someone to take care of her. She can’t ever get a job, drive, or even take care of herself,” Joanie said.
    Standing up, I said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Taking my plate over to the sink, I tossed it in and stormed toward the exit of the kitchen.
    “You need to be a little bit more sensitive to what you say, Joanie,” I could hear my mother say as I left down the hallway.
    Coming into my room, I shut the door and lay down on my bed. Putting my hands up behind my head, I looked at the ceiling and began praying.
    Why are people so judgmental, Lord? Help them understand that I don’t care about the blindness. I like—and quite possibly love—Emily for who she is. Help me have a level head, and help others to see my perspective. Amen.
    Following the lines in the ceiling with my eyes, I thought about Emily. Had she been blind since birth? Or was there an accident? Jumping away from the topic of being blind, I thought about the last few weeks leading up to today. She had been terrified to tell me. It broke my heart that she had all that worry about me knowing and finding out that had been building up inside of her.
    Sitting up on my bed, I looked across the room. Seeing my computer, I went over and jumped in the chair. What Joanie said could have been true or false. I honestly had no idea, and so I began to research online. After an hour of researching, I was happy to find out that I was right. Blind people can live rather independently and even have jobs when they use the resources available to them; it just takes a lot more effort.
    Looking away from the screen to give my eyes a break, I saw my old bandana from when I was younger hanging on the corner of my closet door.
    Getting up, I went over to the closet and pulled it down. I wrapped it around my head and tied it. My vision was completely gone. This is what it’s like , I thought to myself.
    Turning around from the closet, I attempted to use my memory to move around the room. Crouching slightly at the knees, I touched the top of my bed as I came around to the front of it. I stood upright as I stopped and felt for the TV to my left.
    “Okay . . .” I said, nodding my head. Moving my hand from the TV, I felt over to the dresser and then to the radio. My fingers glided across the radio buttons until I found the power.
    I pressed it, and started snapping my fingers and tapping my foot to the beat. Then I began to move my waist in rhythm with the classic rock song that was playing. As I began to dance about my room, I tripped on my controller, which sent me tumbling to my backside.
    “Ahh!” I shouted as I pushed the bandana up to my forehead.
    My mother came flying through the door. “What happened?” she shouted as she looked around.
    I winced. “I fell.”
    Her eyes met my bandana on my forehead, and she began to laugh and cover her mouth. “I’m sorry . . .” she said, reaching over to shut off the radio. Bending at the knees, she dropped beside me and brushed her fingers through my hair as she looked at me. “I’m sorry if I came across as not supportive out at the dinner table. I was just in shock.”
    I nodded.
    She moved her hand from my hair to my chest and said, “I’m glad that I raised a son who cares about someone’s heart above all else.” Her eyes began to well with tears. “Your father will