I.m not ashamed of my sister.s disability. But I don.t want joe to judge her. Because if he laughs,
I couldn.t take it. I whip around. “You.re not good at following directions, are you?”
He grins as if saying, I.m a gang member, what did you expect?
“I have to check on my sister. Do you mind?”
“Nope. It.ll give me a chance to meet her. Trust me.”
I should kick him out, tattoos and all. I should, but I don.t.
Without another word, I lead him into our dark, mahogany-paneled library. Shelley is sitting in her
wheelchair, her head awkwardly slumped to the side as she watches television.
When she realizes she has company, her gaze shifts from the television to me to joe.
“This is joe ,” I explain, shutting off the TV. “A friend from school.”
Shelley gives joe a crooked smile and hits her specialized keyboard with her knuckles.
“Hello,” says a feminine, computerized voice. She hits another button. “My name is Shelley,” the
computer continues.
joe kneels down to Shelley.s level. The simple act of respect tears at something suspiciously like
my heart. Colin always ignores my sister, treating her as if she.s blind and deaf as well as physically and
mentally disabled.
“What.s up?” joesays, taking Shelley.s stiff hand in his and shaking it. “Cool computer.”
“It.s a personal communication device or PCD,” I explain. “It helps her communicate.”
“Game,” the computer voice says.
joe moves beside Shelley. I hold my breath as I watch her hands, making sure they.re nowhere
near his thick head of hair.
“You have games on there?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I answer for her. “She.s become a checkers fanatic. Shelley, show him how it works.”
While Shelley slowly taps the screen with her knuckles, joe watches, seemingly fascinated.
When the checkers screen comes up, Shelley nudges joe's hand.
“You go first,” he says.
She shakes her head.
“She wants you to go first,” I tell him.
“Cool.” He taps the screen.
I watch, getting all mushy inside, as this tough guy plays quietly with my big sister.
“Do you mind if I make a snack for her?” I say, desperate to leave the room.
“Nah, go ahead,” he says, his concentration on the game.
“You don.t have to let her win,” I say before leaving. “She can hold her own in checkers.”
“Uh, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I am tryin. to win,” joe says. He has a genuine grin on
his face, without trying to act cocky or cool. It makes me even more desperate to escape.
When I walk into the library with Shelley.s food a few minutes later, he says, “She beat me.”
“I told you she was good. But enough games for now,” I say to Shelley, then turn to joe
“I hope you don.t mind me helping to feed her.”
