The Eyes and Ears of Love (17 page)

“They’re confident birds. Their flight is strong, smooth, and buoyant,” he states. “The master of this cane is the only one to set this bird free by creating a path for free living.”

“You need a walking stick, to create your own path?” Dorothy jumps in, curiously.

“What do you see right now?” the husband asks her instantaneously.

              “Is that a trick question?”

              “No.”

              “I see black, I see nothing,” Dorothy admits.

              “Exactly, you’re already walking a pathless world, but it’s up to you to create a path.”

The blind wife grins, nodding her head. “A lover helps a lot with creating that path though.”

Dorothy loosens her grip from Bentley’s shirt and takes a step back.

The husband rubs his wife’s shoulder. “It’s up to you, not the cane, to create a path in a pathless world. Then you, too, can be a free, living bird.”

              Dorothy scrunches her forehead and raises an eyebrow.

              A stampede of people rush toward Bentley and Dorothy. Bentley moves closer to the cart and he feels Dorothy’s grip slip from his shirt. He turns to see her being washed away with the crowd. People push and shove, ignorant of her inability to see.

“DOROTHY!” he screams out to her.

Her face evaporates in the distance.

He rips through the crowd with the cane. Teenagers are draped over each other, listening to music, singing aloud. He hears people talking in a foreign language. The echoing sound of sellers wagering their merchandise floods his ears. 

He notices a blonde woman standing in the center of the flea market and quickly grips her shoulder.

“Hey!” she yells angrily, turning to face Bentley.

She has green eyes, but they certainly aren’t Dorothy’s.

“Sorry,” he mutters as he frantically looks around.

Panic rises in his chest. His surroundings blur. The relentless thud of his heart matches his shallow, raspy breaths with intense precision.

“A blind woman, have you seen her?” he asks a man walking past him.

“Sorry,” the man says, shaking his head.

His eyes dart toward every corner and then there she is, on the ground, sitting upright while cradling her knees. Her lip quivers. She holds her knees to support her chin, rocking back and forth. Both elbows are scrapped with blood and debris. A man yells at her for knocking over an antique clock, demanding that she pay for it.

Seeing her, his fears dissolve, his anxiety releases its vice-like grip. Bentley kneels by Dorothy.

“Dorothy?”

“B-B-Bentley?” she stutters, leaping into his arms.

“Who’s going to pay for this?” the man asks, enraged, still pointing to the broken clock.

Bentley pulls out his wallet and slams a one hundred dollar bill against the man’s chest, jaw clenched.

He scoops Dorothy under his wing, holding her closely with both arms, her nose nuzzled under his armpit. She is shaking, her unsteady hands wrapped around Bentley’s chest. He feels his shirt getting wet from her tears. Her mouth presses against his body, muffling her sobs. He rubs her head, occasionally urging people out of the way to clear his path.

On the way to the truck, he returns the cane to the husband and his blind wife.

“It’s up to you to create a path in a pathless world. Then you, too, can be a free, living bird,” the husband repeats from a distance.

Bentley scoots into the driver’s seat of his truck with Dorothy still latched onto him.

A few minutes later, they arrive back inside the facility. Nurse Lena stands by the front desk.

“Oh my goodness! What happened?” Nurse Lena asks, concerned.

Dorothy lets go of Bentley and seeks comfort in Nurse Lena’s arms.

“Oh, sweetie!” She hugs Dorothy, brushing the strands of hair sticking to her wet tears. “Come on, let’s go lay down.”

Dorothy nods.

Bentley goes to his office. He sits in his chair, elbows propped on the desk, staring into his hands. He drags his nails down his forehead.  He feels the same way he always felt after losing a critical basketball game. He raises his head and thinks about the way she touched him, how she held onto him so tight. Despite the circumstances, he enjoyed feeling needed by her. It was like he was protecting her from everything else in the world. But now, Lena was comforting her; he was unneeded. He drops his face back into his palms and grunts.

***

In Dorothy’s room, Nurse Lena cuddles with Dorothy on her bed, comforting her.  

“Do you want to talk about it?” Nurse Lena asks.

Dorothy shakes her head, wiping her face.

“Ok, well then, you don’t have to,” she says, squeezing Dorothy closer to her chest.

“I just don’t understand,” she finally says.  Her mouth is so dry it’s hard for her to talk.

“What don’t you understand?”

“Why he’s so eager to fix me. I know it’s his job. But he acts like there is a time limit. He’s rushing me to learn.”

“His intentions are in the right place, trust me.” She continues, “He cares for all the members at the facility, he just seems to have a little more determination for you than the others.”

“Why?”

“Because he obviously believes in you.”

“Why would he believe in me when I don’t even believe in myself?”

“Somehow he sees your capabilities.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, honey.” Lena slaps her hands down on the bed. “I think it’s just best to trust him.”

“I did trust him, today. And he deceived me.”

“Did you? I mean did you really trust him?”

“Yeah.” She pauses momentarily. “Well, kind of.” She frowns and sighs. “No, not really. He tried holding my hand so we didn’t get separated, but I refused and held on to his shirt instead.”

“Do you think if you would have held his hand, he would have let go?”

“No. I don’t think he would have.”

“You want to know my thoughts on the matter?”

Dorothy nods.

“I think one of the hardest things to do when you lose your vision is to trust again. I think, instead of learning the balance needed to walk, you need to learn about people, and learn how to trust them.”

“How do I do that?”

“You’re doing it right now! You’re trusting me with your feelings.”

Dorothy smiles. “I guess I am.”

“Just remember, vision or not, we are all taking a risk when we trust someone. Sometimes we get lucky and sometimes we get burned. But, it’s the risk that makes life worth living.”

“You have very good advice, Lena,” she compliments her.

“Thank you!”

“My mom never had any advice for me.”

“She didn’t? Or did you not give her the chance to try?”

Dorothy shrugs. “I guess I never asked for her advice.”

“Uh-huh. It’s amazing what happens when you take the initiative to ask for help.”

“You’re so wise. How old are you?” Dorothy’s eyes widen. “Oh no! Was that rude of me to ask?”

“No not at all! I’m forty-three.”

“And you’re not married?”

“I was, once.”

“What happened?”

Dorothy can feel the bed shift and follows by sitting up.

“I married him right after high school.” She laughs. “We were so young!”

“So then what happened?”

“We were happy! We were two broke college kids. We lived off of Hamburger Helper and seldom did we have enough money to add the beef.”

Dorothy scrunches her nose; just thinking about processed food creeps her out, but she likes Lena, so she doesn’t say anything.

Nurse Lena giggles. “It was fine though, because we had each other, and that’s all we needed.”

“So?”

“So, I eventually made a choice to drop out of college because the bills were piling up. I got a full-time job while he continued college.”

“I don’t think I’m going to like this story,” Dorothy anticipates.

“You and me both.”

“What happened next?”

“He finished college, became a lawyer. The first five years were great. We had money. We had a house. We had cars.”

“But?”

“But it wasn’t enough,” Nurse Lena murmurs.

“Why not?”

She sighs. “Working full-time added a lot of stress on me. It showed in my weight gain, it showed in the wrinkles on my face, and the grays in my hair.”

“So he left you because of all that?”

“In a way. He left me for a younger woman who didn’t have all of that.”

“No,” Dorothy shakes her head in disbelief.

“Yes. I went back to college and never remarried.” She pauses. “You want to hear something awful?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Sometimes, I wish he had been blind. I wish he only saw my caring soul instead of my ugly face.”

“You’re not ugly, Lena.”

“How would you know?”

“Because all I can see is your caring soul.”

Nurse Lena cups Dorothy’s hand with both of hers. “Thank you.” She laughs. “So, on a sweeter note, are you hungry? You’ve barely eaten since you’ve gotten here!”

“I am kind of hungry!”

“Well, I can whip up some delicious mac and cheese!”

“Mac and cheese!” Dorothy cries. “I used to have the best recipe! I would use gouda cheese and a bit of heavy cream. Oh! And paprika.”

“Whoa! I think you and I are on a different page with that. Different recipe books, for that matter!”

“Well, I’d love to hear your macaroni and cheese recipe!”

“My recipe?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Um, I call my recipe Kraft.”

Dorothy scrunches her forehead. “Kraft! No,” Dorothy exaggerates, laughing.

“Yup, that’s the recipe!”

Dorothy smiles and shakes her head in disbelief. “Seriously, though, what is with this facility and high fructose corn syrup?”

They both laugh.

Nurse Lena spends the remainder of the day and evening with Dorothy, eating, talking, and laughing. Nurse Lena helps Dorothy to open up by sharing her own experiences of successes and failures. She is a woman with no children, but she comforts and nurtures Dorothy like she were her own. Dorothy doesn’t know if it’s sympathy or the beginning of a friendship, but she appreciates her patience and kindness for the moment. The last person Dorothy looked up to was her sister, and it felt new and strange to admire someone again.

***

Later that evening, Bentley builds the courage to leave his office and knock on Dorothy’s door. To his surprise Nurse Lena answers.

“You’re still here?” he asks, squinting at his wristwatch. “It’s way past your shift.”

“Yes, she asked me if I would stay with her.”

“Can I talk to her?” He peeks through the crack of the door.

Nurse Lena shakes her head, stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door behind her. “I think she needs a woman’s company right now,” she says quietly.

Bentley nods. “I shouldn’t have taken her there.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she continues, “but you meant well.”

“I’m supposed to know what I am doing, you know?” He shakes his head. “It’s like, with her, I take one step forward, to be thrown three steps back.” He pauses. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” She rubs his shoulder. “Dorothy can be a tough girl, but she has no family here, no friends. If you want my opinion, she needs a sense of friendship from you to really help her succeed. Not just a director pushing her because it’s his job.” She turns back around to open the door. Over her shoulder she says, “More often than not, a way to a woman’s heart is companionship.”

She shuts the door, disappearing behind it.

And in the blink of an eye, the idea jolts Bentley to alertness, as if he’d been sleeping this whole time.

Of course! A way to a woman’s heart is companionship.

Chapter 6

***

The next morning, Bentley knocks on Dorothy’s door.

She doesn’t answer.

He rests his ear against the door and speaks into the crease. “I know you’re not too happy with me right now, and I completely understand.” He breathes deeply. “But, I want to extend a peace offering with this cherry pie. . .”

“Come in,” Dorothy calls.

His chest tightens a little as he turns the doorknob. He sees her sitting on the edge of her bed, still in her pajamas: an oversized t-shirt and fleece pants. Her hair is wavy and untamed. She seems to sense it, as she starts tucking both sides of her hair behind her ears.

She has sleep in her eyes and crusted drool on the side of her mouth, but damn, she’s gorgeous
, he thinks.