Part 31 (2/2)

”I think I'm starting to like you,” Jackson said.

”You're not from around here,” Lloyd said.

”I grew up in Boston.”

”Must be different down here.”

”It is.”

”You like fis.h.i.+ng?”

Jackson admitted he did not.

”You don't like fis.h.i.+ng?” the man asked, outraged.

”Oh, don't get him started on fis.h.i.+ng,” Stella said, rolling her eyes.

”I'll take him over to the spillway and give him a pole and we'll put a stop to that,” Lloyd said with a smile.

”My husband loves loves to fish,” Stella said. to fish,” Stella said.

”d.a.m.n right,” Lloyd said. ”Anyway, I just don't know what we're going to do about my daughter.”

”Do you feel like you need to do do something?” I asked. something?” I asked.

”Of course,” he said heatedly. ”We've got to figure this out, see whether there's a surgery or something they can do, hearing aids-I've been reading up on cochlear implants-”

”Let me stop you right there,” I said gently. ”I don't know that it's helpful to view this as a problem that needs to be fixed.”

”I don't follow,” Lloyd said.

”If your daughter really is deaf, you'll soon be learning about Deaf Pride and all the issues in the Deaf community. You'll find that many deaf people are not happy with this idea that they have a 'problem,' or that they're 'broken,' or that something needs to be 'done.' They find that kind of thinking rather offensive, actually.”

”Offensive?” Stella said.

”Well, yes,” I said. ”Deaf kids can do anything that other kids can do, except hear. They learn sign language to communicate. Their lives are just as full and meaningful as other children. If your daughter really is deaf, then there isn't much you can do about it. There's an entire range of hearing, of course, and the doctors will figure out how much hearing she does have. Hearing aids might help a little, but at the end of the day y'all will have to learn to cope with having a deaf child. I guess what I'm saying is that you don't want to unintentionally harm her by thinking of her as a problem, or someone who isn't good enough because she can't hear. That sort of thinking creates a lot of resentment and low self-esteem. If your daughter was blind, you wouldn't waste a lot of time thinking about having her cured of her blindness. You'd get on with the business of living and coping and figuring out how to create a life for her.”

They considered this in silence for long moments.

”You mentioned cochlear implants,” I added, ”which raises a flag with some people, including me. To install these implants, the doctors have to destroy part of the inner ear. They do this without really knowing whether the implants are going to help or not. Thing is, once it's done, the child will never be able to hear anything again on their own. If the implants fail, well, you're just out of luck because the ears have been irreparably damaged. If they work, your child might have some hearing, but probably not very much. So it's risky and there's no guarantee how much they'll help, or whether they'll help at all.”

”You'd advise against it?” Stella asked.

”I'd think about it a lot before I agreed to go down that road,” I said. ”I'd be careful about trying to change your daughter. Perhaps that's a better way of saying it. I'd be careful about trying to 'fix' her or putting too much hope in some miracle cure. You'll understand what I mean as you go along and you meet other deaf families. There's a lot of pressure on deaf children to be just like hearing children, but they're not, and never will be, and the sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be. No child wants to be raised in an atmosphere where everyone thinks they're a problem that needs a solution, or where there's too much emphasis on what they can't do, rather than what they can. As you go along, you'll see what I mean.”

”But you must worry about it,” Lloyd said.

”For a while, yes, I certainly did. Everything was a struggle to make sure he was just like everyone else. But he's not. And after a while, I found it wasn't helpful to think in those terms. I was tired of my child never measuring up to his hearing friends, never being as good as they were. I was tired of people looking at him as though there was something terribly, desperately wrong with him. There isn't. He can't hear, that's all. We get by. It's not like the end of the world.”

”He's an adorable little boy,” Stella said, smiling at him.

”Tupelo has some good programs for deaf kids,” I said. ”I think you guys are going to do just fine.”

”It seems really scary,” Lloyd admitted.

”It is is scary,” I said. ”But it's scary in one of those weird, wonderful ways. And it gets less scary as you go on and you realize you can handle it and everything will be fine.” scary,” I said. ”But it's scary in one of those weird, wonderful ways. And it gets less scary as you go on and you realize you can handle it and everything will be fine.”

The conversation moved to small talk and it wasn't long before Lloyd got back to the subject of fis.h.i.+ng.

Is the baby like me? Noah asked, peering at the baby in its stroller when she became fussy and wanted to be held. Noah asked, peering at the baby in its stroller when she became fussy and wanted to be held.

They think so, I said. I said.

He smiled.

44) Baptizing the grill

ON W WEDNESDAY, Jackson invited us for a dip in the swimming pool at his apartment complex and the baptism of his new grill, in that order. The temperature hit the midnineties and stayed there. The air was oppressive and heavy with humidity. Jackson invited us for a dip in the swimming pool at his apartment complex and the baptism of his new grill, in that order. The temperature hit the midnineties and stayed there. The air was oppressive and heavy with humidity.

We were not the only ones with fun in the sun on their minds. Several children played in the shallow end, screaming and shouting and splas.h.i.+ng water at one another, their mothers laying on deck chairs and keeping watch. A rather handsome Speedo-wearing young man worked on his suntan. Jackson, wearing a Speedo himself, nodded to him as we pa.s.sed.

Noah wore a bathing suit handed down to him by Eli. I wore cut-offs like the perpetually incorrect person that I am. We stood around the shower, rinsing off, before claiming a couple of deck chairs of our own. My shorts were loose on my hips and I worried they might fall off when I jumped into the water.

Noah stood on the deck of the pool, watching the children on the shallow end. Three boys had a ball that they were tossing back and forth.

I took him to the shallow end and eased myself into the water, watching as Noah made his first dive-bombing jump, landing perilously close to a black girl who was just starting to fill out the green one-piece suit she wore-and seemed to know it.

”Be careful!” the black girl exclaimed with a fair amount of att.i.tude.

Noah, who didn't see her, didn't respond.

The black girl waded over to her friend on the other side of the pool.

We swam down to the deep end where Jackson had dived in. Noah piggy-backed while I dog-paddled. Jackson and I took turns ferrying him from one side of the pool to the other as he honked contentedly. I took him back down to the shallow end where the boys had started an informal game of water polo, or something similar. When the ball went astray and landed in front of Noah, he hooted rather weirdly, and tossed it back to them. They motioned for him to join their game and he happily complied, saying, ”h.e.l.lo!”

One of the boys looked at me with questions in his eyes. This boy seemed to be the oldest of the lot.

”He can't hear,” I said.

”He's deaf!” this boy exclaimed to his friends.

My heart sank.

”So be careful,” the boy added. ”Come on,” he added, waving at Noah like he was a puppy.

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