Hear Me Sin

Chapter Two

Omari walked up beside Inola and roughly clapped his hand over her's. Inola jumped so hard it looked like she almost had a mild heart attack. Her eyes widened so big they looked like they were about to fall out of their sockets. She hadn't even heard him walk through the door. She glared at Omari for half a second then put a hand on her chest, huffing. After she gathered herself, she began to sign.

I told you to stop doing that. You're going to kill me one day.

Omari smiled as he began signing back with his fingers and speaking at the same time. "I'm sorry, baby. I couldn't resist. I just love how you get so relaxed just because your inside. You're still suppose to pay attention."

Inola pouted. Not funny Mari, I'm serious. Stop doing that. 

He chuckled, "Aight you got it, I'm sorry." He said pecking her lips.

Inola was a thirty year old young woman from South Sudan, who was born deaf. In South Sudan, she wasn't surrounded by a lot of other deaf people in her country, so always had a hard time communicating. Though she could use her voice, she never really did. She mainly communicated with notepad and papers back in Sudan. At around eleven she was brought to America where she attended one of the most prestigious schools to learn American Sign Language.

Inola actually knew four languages. English, Dinka, which was an African Dialect spoken by some Sudanese people. Spanish which she learned when she use to be with her sons biological father. And a fourth, if American Sign Language counted. The thing was she just didn't talk in any of those languages. She only used the fourth one because she was self conscious about her voice. 

When she started going to school for the Deaf and mentally impaired, they had speech coaches that trained deaf people to talk, but because she was born deaf, she often sounded strange when she spoke. Sometimes she was extremely loud and off tone, other times sounding like she had mild retardation as she's been told. So she was more comfortable signing.

The only person she spoke around sometimes was Enrique and Omari. And she didn't even talk around her son much because he sometimes laughed at her and made mean remarks. He was only nine so she pushed it to the side because he was a child. He didn't realize he hurt her feelings sometimes, so only Omari really heard her voice on occasion. 

"How was your day?" Omari asked, as he signed at the same time. He always talked and signed at the same time because as good as he was, it wasn't natural to him like it was to Inola. Speaking while he signed helped him concentrate and get out what he had to say.

Normal I guess...it was kind of slow so I only made forty three bucks in tips. She said going inside her jacket pocket, pulling out a bunch of crumpled up ripped ones, fives and tens which equated to $43 dollars.

Omari immediately went into his wallet, adding two crisp hundred dollar bills to the pile. He wasn't rich at all, but he made a good enough paycheck to take care of himself. When he had, he never hesitated to share with Inola. Especially when she had two kids, kids who he loved like his own.

Inola twisted her lips to be side, so grateful but feeling bad at the same time. She came from a family where everyone loved to be independent and strive. She hated sometimes that he helped her out so much, but she wasn't ignorant. When she needed it, she needed it. 

Baby, no, are you sure? The forty three could hold the boys and I until Friday when I get paid. It's already Wednesday, we only have two more days until Friday.