The Blind Girl in the Rain: part 2

Part 2.

The room quietly echoed to the sounds of city life as I lay there staring up into the fading dark as the world turned and night slipped into the beginnings of the new day.

Sleep had been fitful. The constant turning of my mind as random thoughts flared, flickered and faded keeping me awake until the early hours. Night visions dancing in the darkness always bringing me back to the way she looked at me and the dawning realization that nothing would be the same again.

I got up and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment. I closed my eyes and hung my head as my body began to wake from its slumbers as I stretched and ran both hands through my thick dark hair. I got to my feet and walked naked to the window of my fifth-floor apartment and watched as the first signs of a red dawn began to appear from behind the concrete horizon.

Another day. Another Monday. I stared out into the far distance as the world began to paint herself with cloud strokes of deep copper and burnt umber. But it wasn’t another day. Or another Monday.

A blind girl called Heather McCallister had made everything different.

*

Monday was a seriously cold day.

I had already parked the Lambo and was making my way up from the underground car park towards the main entrance of the building when I saw a cab pull up to the curb and the driver gets out to open the rear door on the left-hand side.

Suddenly a white stick appeared and I watched as the girl eased herself out onto the sidewalk as the cabbie fussed around her. So that was how she was getting around in this weather. It was then I realized this was my opportunity and quickly made my way to where she was standing.

The nearer I got to her the more my heart began to quicken. She was dressed in a dark grey overcoat with a bright yellow scarf wrapped around her neck, a black woven skirt, and what looked like thick woolen black stockings and knee-high black leather boots. Her hair was tied in a ponytail hanging down her back.

She waited until the taxi had moved off then reached forward with her stick and began to tap it back and forth. She had that thing in her ear and I could tell she was listening to whatever the device was telling her. I stopped a few feet from her and watched as she moved carefully forward and into the flow of pedestrians. Even from where I was I could see that she was nervous and flinched every now and again as she felt someone get too close as they walked past.

She walked a few meters then stopped. Her head was tilted to one side as she listened to the city moving around her. She was practically at the entrance to the courtyard in front of the company tower and tapped the end of her stick along the low wall in front of it. After a moments pause, she carefully set off again and I could see her mumbling to herself and it suddenly occurred to me that she was counting her steps as she went.

I stepped to the side as she came right past me and the faint smell of an Autumn perfume filled the crisp still air. She was so close I could see the flush of her cold cheeks and the soft billowing of her breath as she concentrated on where she was walking. The more I saw of her the more amazing and impressive she became.

It was now or never to set things in motion.

“Hey, hello,” I said to her. Not too loud as I didn’t want to startle her. But loud enough for her to hear over the din of traffic, “Miss. McCallister, right?” 

She gave a slight start of surprise and she turned to the side trying to figure out where I was standing in relation to her. “Oh, uh, yes, hello!” she replied breathlessly with a smile that was completely endearing. 

I stared at her. She was wearing her spectacles again and I noticed they had a slight tint to them and I suddenly felt a deep empathy for her. “Mike. Mike Sloane. We sort of met briefly last week before everything got a little  mad in the asylum.”

“OOooooooooh, I remember you,” she exclaimed. A soft flush crossed her face as she pulled her stick to her chest and stuck out her hand, “Tenth floor, right?”

I laughed as I took her hand – again. “Yep, tenth floor,” Then it hit me; she was shaking hands so she could get some sense for where people were standing in relation to her. That made me smile wider. Smart is as smart does. I looked around, “Are you waiting for anyone?”

She let go of my hand. “Well, usually,” she explained, “A couple of the new girls wait at the main entrance for me. I still need a little help to figure out where everything is in this place, to be honest. But every day I’m getting better at it,” She raised her arm and “looked” at her watch, “Um, I think I’m a little early this morning because of the snow,” She pressed a button on it and held it to her ear, “Uh huh, they’re not due here for another half hour.”

The cold was beginning to bite and I saw that she was shivering slightly as she fiddled with her stick. “Well, I’m heading to the canteen for something to warm me up,” I said as she turned her face towards me, “You’re more than welcome to join me for a cup of coffee or something. My shout.”

She frowned slightly and licked her lips as she contemplated my offer. “It really is cold isn’t it,” she sniffed, “Alright, you have a deal. Coffee sounds awesome right now,” She moved around to face me and blushed, “Uh, can I take your arm?”

“Sure,” I nodded as I came to her right side watching as she slowly raised her hand and slipped it through my proffered arm, “Okay?”

She gave me a wide smile and stepped beside me. “Great!” she grinned, “Good to go. Don’t worry, if you hear me mumbling to myself it’s because I’m just counting out steps and how far things are for me. I haven’t gone nuts or anything.”

“Well, I did call this place the asylum, didn’t I.”

She laughed and nudged herself against me, “Coffee.”

So that was it. The start. The beginning. God only knows where it would lead us both as we headed into the building.

*

We sat in a quiet corner of the canteen away from the groups of people who had arrived to work early in order to beat the rush hour made worse because of the weather. It was a window seat which looked out onto a lawn covered in deep snow.

She had removed her spectacles and sat on the other side of the table taking careful sips of her coffee and nibbling on a bacon sandwich. It was such a strange feeling to know that I could be this close to her and look at her without feeling brazen or awkward. Every now and then she’d glance up at me and we’d make eye contact before her sightless gaze would slip away from mine. I wondered what she was thinking in those moments. No doubt imagining what I looked like and knowing that I was probably staring at her openly.

Taking advantage of her disability didn’t bother me as much as it should have done because being able to look at her properly was just such an absolute pleasure.

She looked about eighteen and wore her youth with an easy grace. Her face bore the purity of innocence and her natural charm and character shone through for all to see. Her skin was clear and unblemished and it was only a faint sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose that marked it. I smiled at her over the rim of my cup as I watched her carefully put her cup in the plastic tray and run her fingers around the sides before sitting back in her chair. Her eyes once again met mine and I just stared at their simple clear beauty as she blinked and dabbed her lips with a tissue.

My eyes dropped to her open coat and unwound scarf. She was wearing a pale white blouse under a sky blue cardigan that revealed the hint of a shadow between her breasts that were softly rising and falling as she breathed.

Our conversation had been easy and the basics flowed back and forth between us as we sat doing breakfast. We talked about simple things. Life things. Work was good. Work was different. Work was interesting now that those first awkward days had passed. New friends had been made and there was always someone to help her when she needed it. She lived in the suburbs with a friend called Melissa who worked from home. The daily commute into the city was a pain made more so because of the sudden change in the weather. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what doing something like that would be for her. The sheer willpower and fortitude to take that first step out into the world each morning made me appreciated her inner strength more with each passing second I was in her presence.

Like I said, the conversation was natural and the warmth of her personality was plain to see, feel and enjoy.

“Can I call you Heather?” I asked.

She looked straight at me for a second and nodded. “Sure,” she replied as a faint blush kissed her cheeks before fading away, “Of course,” She frowned slightly, “Um, what do I call you?” Clasping her hands in front of her, she sat forward in her chair, “I mean, you’re my potential Boss, right?”

I sat forward conspiratorially and whispered “When it’s like this you can call me Mike. If we have to pretend to be serious then it’s Mr. Sloane. Alright?” We were so close I could see the pores and fine hairs on her smooth skin. She was also leaning forward and my gaze dropped to the suggested hidden charms under her blouse before she bounced back in her seat and gave me a knowing look of amusement. I slowly raised my eyes back to her face.

“Ahhhhh,” she laughed as she dug her hands into the deep pockets of her coat, “You’ll get me into trouble!” She bit her lower lip and tilted her head to the right, “But who would know?” She looked around and sat forward again, “There’s only me and you here, right?”

I stared at her hard.