Learning to CommunicateMature

Nixon's Point Of View

Always, since the day I was born, I'd taken everything for granted. Cool toys, clothes, now a car. It felt sickening as Noah stood there. I'd always cared whether I had the next big thing, but in this moment, everything was put into perspective. He had no voice. Was he born that way? Did something else happen? My problems didn't even amount to not having a voice. My God, I'd never would imagine not being able to speak, to yell, to laugh. I scratched my head in disbelief. To be honest, I was surprised I had managed to make this much conversation. On top of that, I was still kind of awestruck by the fact that he looked almost exactly like me.

Noah nodded once, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

"No worries," I told him. "We'll just have to figure something out." He looked a little unsure, so I delved in my bag for my old, ripped up notepad. "Here, just write on this or something. S'not like I'm gonna use it."

'Thank you.' He signed before taking it.

Again, for what seemed like the hundredth time today, my eyes scanned him over. It was just... unbelievable that he could look so much like me. My parents had never said anything about me having any sort of relative that resembled me, my parents were my flesh and blood and I knew they'd never let another child out of their arms. Maybe, it was all just coincidence. But, still...

Just then, a bus passed up the wing of the building we were standing near, the air gave a nice cool breeze as it zipped by.

Noah looked at me, worried and started signing quickly, he started freaking out.

"Woah, woah! Dude," I reminded him of my inability to understand complex things, with a smile. And, when I say complex, I mean anything other than the absolute basics.

He let out a breath of frustration and scribbled 'That was my bus.' on the notepad.

"Oh," I let out a chuckle, "that sucks." I knew the next bus was going to take over half an hour. "Well, you wanna come to my house? I'm sure my step-mom'll give you a lift. I mean, you can't live that far away. She's off work today."

Noah shook his head, showing me the page on which he'd written the area he lived in. It was a little further than the catchment area, but not by much. "Seriously, she'll be cool with it," I insisted. So he agreed.

The walk takes about 40 minutes from the school, I hoped it wouldn't be awkward, not being able to really talk and all. He pulled out an old, little Nokia phone and started texting.

"Oh my God, you still have one of those things!?" Wow. What sentiments, Nix. Mentally, I just kicked myself in the head.

He nodded, raising an eyebrow in my direction as he continued to slam the dinosaur phone onto the cement. The guy was built, that phone was going to be in pieces! To my astonishment, only a scratch was nicked into the side of the phone, if I wasn't paying attention I wouldn't have known a difference. Noah picked it up and let out a big grin as he studied the look on my face. He continued with his text, his fingers 3 sizes too big for the buttons. He placed the impenetrable Nokia in my hands. 'Now, do that to your phone.'

Quickly, I shook my head. "No way man, that was crazy! And it just took it, like damn!" I examined the ancient piece of technology in my hands then placed it back in his. We started walking, I led him down the sidewalk that would twist and turn all the way to my house, we'd have to cross a couple streets, but it wouldn't be a biggie. It was a bit awkward, though, he was more burly than me, like his brawn would make up for a lost voice. But he didn't look violent. I didn't really make conversation, and when I did, he'd respond wordlessly. Pretty much silence. There was a lot I wanted to ask him, having to write or text me while he walked probably wasn't the safest route to take, he wouldn't be going anywhere soon. A chance to ask him questions couldn't be too far off.

The house came into view. A three-story building that had been built right after Texas had joined the United States. Dad had called dibs on the old place, wanting to fix it up and modernize it, but to keep the natural and historic charm at the same time. The outside was at one time painted yellow, but now had been washed with white. Six windows were placed parallel along its face, where you could determine where one floor cut off the other, four more were on either side of the front door. Upon reaching it, I realized my keys weren't on me. I would have to check the dirty laundry.

"Claire, I'm locked out!" I yelled up at the open window on the second floor.

"One second!" She shouted back at me in her New York tone. The door opened a minute later, Claire paused in the doorway. Obviously having been painting, she was dressed in rolled up blue jean shorts and a loose light powder blue shirt, it was splattered with lime green paint. "Who's this?" She motioned towards Noah

"Noah," I introduced. "And Noah, this is Claire, my step-mum."

Noah held out his hand and Claire took it, giving a firm shake while raising an eyebrow towards me. "Nice grip there, you go to my son's school?"

"He can't talk, Claire. He signs."

"Oh," Claire whispered to me, raising a hand to cover her the side of her mouth. "Is he deaf or mentally handicapped?" Her question took me a little off guard. I'd have to remember I acted the same way just a few minutes ago.

"Claire! No!" Her eyes widened, embarrassed by her words. "You coulda said you were inviting someone over. A text would have done just fine."

"He wasn't going to be staying," I said. "He needs a lift, we were...uhh...communicating?"

Noah smirked, not very reassuring. 'Talk. Okay.' He dumbed down his signing for obvious reasons, having even used the thumbs up for the last word. I would really need to work on my ASL homework now.

"Oh, talking, and he missed his bus. It was his first day of school today, he just moved here."

"Nonsense. Some company would be nice for dinner. I'm making stew, your favorite. Noah? Would you like to join us?" Claire invited.

Noah held up his hands in protest, then took his phone out of his pocket and punched in a text, 'I don't want to intrude.' It read.

"Oh, come on, you won't be! Plus that way we'll get to talk more. Are your parents home yet?" This would be a perfect time to learn more about the other person. It would be a few hours before my dad would get home and until dinner would be on the table.

'Mom's working at the hospital downtown, she has the night shift for a few weeks, won't be home till seven in the morning.' He replied, letting me view the phone once more.

"Well see then, it's perfect! I'll show you around!" Awesome, maybe we'd get some answers from the internet or Dad. Claire opened up the door wider, letting Noah and myself inside. Her hand grabbed at my arm.

Again, she whispered, "Nix, he looks just like you."

The End

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