Stargazing in the dead of winter. That's what he likes. That one, there, the boy in the camouflage jacket. His father is a soldier, you know, fighting as we speak in Afghanistan. So was his grandfather. And in his own right, so is he.
He is deaf, that boy in the camouflage jacket, but if you only sit and sign with him once you will find out that he is so much more. He is strong, stronger than anyone I have ever known. I see it in his warm brown eyes, when his attackers hurl insults in his direction, and he merely stares back at them blankly, knowing full well what they are saying. They are unaware that he can read lips.
Happy. That is what he is. The aura surrounding him, despite his circumstances, is one of pure joy and of simple bliss, the kind of feeling that comes with being content in any and every situation that might befall him. His smiles are the brighter than the sun, the highlight of my day whenever I am lucky enough to witness them. No one besides me notices when he smiles, but I notice; I always notice, and they always make me bring forth a smile of my own in return.
Courageous. He has the heart of a lion that chooses to hide behind the face of a lamb, innocent and meek yet underneath determined as anything can ever be. In this world, he is almost forced to be, but he doesn't mind; it does not affect him in the slightest. Even if he possessed the ability to hear I believe he would be one of the most cheerful people that I know.
Crisp days in autumn. He likes those too. Actually, one of our best memories took place on a crisp day in autumn. We were walking across campus, the detached orange-and-red leaves floating lazily through the air and spinning loosely to the ground. One snagged itself in the fleecy hood of his jacket; I noticed and flicked it off with the edge of my fingernail. He blinked at me and smiled gratefully. I, of course, smiled back.
We continued to walk, he and I, I and he, quiet and savoring the chilled breeze against our faces. The sun shone with rays that didn't quite seem heat-filled but shone brightly nonetheless, almost blinding in its own light, chasing any clouds away. My smile was genuine and I was washed in a feeling of peace.
The peaceful feeling was interrupted as a huddled pack of his daily tormentors appeared abruptly before us. I had seen these sessions quite often before, but never up close. Before, I had always arrived at the scene after they had disappeared. I tried to be there with him whenever I could; I do not like it when people attack my friends.
I winced as they launched into their assault, the verbal abuse flying through the air like shrapnel, he the main target; I was not caught in the crossfire until after they noticed my presence. At least when they did they left him alone. I stood quietly and accepted their violence, my head down and my hands fidgeting with the loose threads ringing the bottom of my sweater. It did not take him long at all to notice all of their stares directed at me, and that my name was bouncing over their lips, being passed around like a beach ball.
His expression shifted from one of nonchalance to one of anger, and he grasped my hand firmly, leading me away from the onslaught. I could hear their voices yelling obscenities at me even after we had rounded the corner. He let go of my hand. Disappointment within me was a spark, nothing more, and it extinguished quickly.
'Are you okay?' He signed to me, an expression flaming in his eyes that I had not seen before and that I did not understand.
'Yes.' I signed back, attempting to keep my hands from shaking; it was a weak attempt but successful in its purpose all the same. We continued walking in silence, but it was not peaceful by any use of the word.
Finally we crossed into a courtyard in the center of the campus, with a few stone benches surrounding a dead fountain. With a tilt of his head he directed me towards them, and we sat down together, my eyes watching the small sparrows darting to and fro in search of food. One flitted next to us and his eyes lit up watching the tiny little winged life on the ground. He grinned, and slowly I grinned too.
Still half-grinning, he turned to me and signed, 'Do you like anyone?'
I smiled and signed back, 'Yes. But it makes me sad that he's never heard my voice.'
His face grew serious, like stone, and for a moment I was frightened that I had startled him. A million worst-case-scenarios flooded my mind all at once and a thousand questions made my eyebrows crease and my smile falter. I watched his hands move in slow motion.
He signed back, 'I don't need to hear your voice to love you.'
That was a few months ago. We've been together ever since.
