“…Eyeballs…” Book II: 13. The Locker Fiasco

Hey! You Got Eyeballs In There?

By Kate Chamberlin

As Grace grows up, some of her stories are happy, some trying, some enlightening, and a few themes are sad, but, they’re all the warp and woof of what goes into the tapestry of life we call Family. The daily living skills and techniques demonstrated by the fictional characters in these stories are valid, tried and true.

Book II:  The Teenagers

#10. Bad News

#11.  Grace’s Day One

#12 Knight With Shining Flatware

#13. The Locker Fiasco

s   “Oh, good heavens,” Ken said, beginning to laugh, too.

Grace wanted to die as she quickly pulled the straw out of her nose.

“Noel Pollard just came in with the funniest outfit on. He is our class clown and has a real knack for making us laugh. He is sitting down at the table next to us.”

“Oh,” she said, relieved to know they had not been laughing at her. Apparently no one had seen her bad aim because of Noel’s well timed entrance. She tried to regain her composure by asking Ken, “Are you in any of my classes?” keeping her voice even and hoping it didn’t sound stupid.

“No, just lunch,” he said still chuckling a little. “I’m a senior taking a couple AP courses in hopes of getting into the Eastman School of music. I play the Classical Guitar and piano.”

“Oh,” she said again. It was all she could come up with. As Grace was scooping the last bite of chocolate pudding accurately in to her mouth, Heather came over to the table.

“Hi’ya, Kenny,” she said in a honey smooth voice that made it hard for Grace to recognize who was speaking. The thought occurred to her that Heather was impressed with Ken and wished she hadn’t left Grace alone in the line. “We have to get to our next class. You ready?  The tray return is over here.”

Grace clattered around getting Crackers up, her tray balanced, and eventually found the “here” that Heather meant. She heard Heather say a silky, “bye, Kenny.” as she muttered her own, “bye.”

Turning right from the cafeteria, they headed to their lockers. When Grace heard Heather working her own locker combination, she screwed up her courage and asked, “What is my locker number, Heather?”

“Oh, yours is 153 and mine is 155. That’s why they assigned me to baby sit you today. Do you think you can remember the way for tomorrow or do you want me to help again?”

“And, what is my lock combination?  I would like to try it myself this time,” she added, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. It was never her intention to be a burden to this girl. Grace had not asked to have a sighted guide, much less an unwilling baby sitter. She didn’t even ask to be in this bogus school.

“Your combination is on this paper. It is left to 13; right to 24; and left to 10. Now, what about tomorrow?” she said with some irritation herself.

“I’m not sure I’ll be in tomorrow. But, thanks anyway,” Grace forced cheerfully.

“OK, suit yourself. I’ll check with you in the morning if you’re in,” Heather said and hurried off to join her friends in the classroom near their lockers.

Grace’s memory was good and she remembered the combination exactly, but, to be sure, she took out her mini-digital and recorded it.

As she took hold of the knob on the lock, she realized the folly of trying to do this herself. The numbers were not raised, much less in Braille. How was she going to figure out where even the first number was?  With her cheeks burning and her eyes threatening to flood over, she heard an older woman’s gruff voice say, “Seems to me that you’re in quite a pickle here. Mind if I help?”

After the woman had gotten the locker open, she left before Grace could even say, “Thank you.”  She’d heard that voice earlier today, but, she could not match a name or location to it.

Grace made a mental note that she must definitely make some Braille labels.

The last three periods of school seemed to go slowly, and yet, the clanging of the final bell startled her. She would now have to face finding the right bus. Too bad Crackers couldn’t read. Then most of Grace’s problems would be solved. They went out the front doors of the school with all the other kids jostling them despite Crackers’ best efforts. Out on the cement apron, amid the stinky diesel fumes and rumbling bus engines, she had Crackers stop. To no one in particular she said out loud, “Where is Bus 161 located?”

She heard the older woman’s gruff voice at her right side say, “It is the last bus to your left. Walk straight to the curb and step in. It is always in that location.”

Grace murmured her thank you but knew it was lost in the hub-bub of teens eager to get home. None was more eager than Grace and she hurried to her bus. The driver knew she would be on his bus and had kept the front passenger seat clear for her and her guide dog. He asked her where she wanted to get off so she gave him her address.

“I don’t go down that street,” he said. “I’ll drop you off at the corner. Okay?  Close enough?”

Grace said, “Okay. Thanks.” But, she thought: Right! Nothing like a half-mile walk to get home. Another of life’s little challenges.

Copyright (C) 1996, 2016, 2017 by Kate Chamberlin

kathryngc1@verizon.net