How Lucas Lost ItPart IV
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The bell rang. Lucas stuffed his notebook into his backpack and headed into the corridor. “Sharon -- what are you doing here?”
“My ten o’clock was cancelled,” she replied. “I was walking down the hall and I saw you sitting in your class -- in the front row. Do you always sit in the front?”
“Usually. Have you been standing here the whole time?”
“Not the whole time. Where are you going next?”
“I was going to get some lunch at the Union.”
“May I join you?”
“Certainly, Shar.”
They strolled to the Union. Lucas ordered a cheeseburger and paid for it with his meal card. Sharon stood and reviewed the lunch menu posted on the wall. “Club sandwich,” she ordered.
“White, wheat or rye?” the order-taker asked. “White, wheat or rye?”
Lucas regarded her. She shook her head in incomprehension and glanced at him. “He wants to know what kind of bread you want -- white, wheat or rye.”
“Oh. Rye, please.” She handed him her meal card.
“Number sixty-three.” The lad operating the cash register handed her a card with the number.
Lucas found a table and Sharon sat across from him. She set the number card on the table. “I’ve never had lunch here,” she said. “Only coffee ... with you.”
“I like their burgers. They’re better than in the dining halls.”
“What was that class?” she asked.
“That was my junior-level humanities class ... English Poetry of the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“We are finishing a unit on Robert Burns,” Lucas explained. “I thought I’d hate Burns. All I knew of him was My Luv is like a Red Red Rose, which I thought was hokey, and Auld Lang Syne, which I never understood.”
A server set a tray on their table and removed the numbered card. “Thanks,” Lucas said. He set his cheeseburger before himself and handed Sharon her sandwich.
Lucas withdrew a sheet from his backpack. “I’ve developed a respect for Burns -- for how he could meld the music of the Scottish dialect with poetry. Listen to this...” He began reading, attempting to imitate a Lowland Scots accent.
“The sun had clos’d the winter day,
“The curless quat their roarin play,
“And hunger’d maukin taen her way,
“To kail- yards green,
“While faithless snaws ilk step betray
“Whare she has been...” Lucas looked up at her. “I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“I’m sorry, Sharon. I forgot...”
“It’s all right, Lucas. I know I’m deaf. I’m not tender about it.”
He turned the paper toward her. “Here’s the original in Scots and here are the translations of the dialect words.”
Sharon read the sheet and began nodding her head. “This is brilliant, Lucas. It’s amazing.”
“The lecturer had a recording of a native Scotsman reading that work,” Lucas replied. “Hearing it made the hair on my neck stand up. I wish you could’ve heard it...” He sighed. “I’m sorry again.”
She reached across the table and touched his hand. “It really is all right. I can hear it in my head from reading it. The rhyme and rhythm is amazing.” She looked up. “Lucas...”
“I’m sorry.” He blinked back tears. “I’m frustrated,” he said. “I’m realizing that some things you’ll never fully experience. It’s like trying to explain a sunset to a blind man. I feel sorry for you.”
“Don’t, Lucas. It’s very sweet of you, but feeling sorry is the last thing I need. Hearing is only one way to experience the world. It’s not the only way and not even the best way.”
Lucas put his hand on hers; then he withdrew it. Sharon looked at her hand, touching his and pulled hers back.
“At least you care,” she said, “at least you understand. You’re sensitive, Lucas ... and I mean sensitive in a good way. And, at least you try to accommodate me. It means a lot. Not everyone does.”
Lucas reviewed his typed Calc notes. math notes done will email he typed into an instant-message window. Then he sent the document.
got em came Sharon’s reply, followed by Lucas im bored.
Bored?
yeah not sleepy but too late to go out. u like board games?
like what he replied.
chess
too complex he answered.
how about backgammon came a message from her.
dont know it he replied.
i love backgammon sometime i teach u. checkers?
checkers is my speed
i belong to online game site she answered. i play w my mom. we can play online
k
here is link... Lucas accessed the site. create login and start game w sharon_g21
He created an account and soon was looking at a checkerboard. He clicked on a piece and moved it. The door opened and Gary waltzed in, holding his arms in the air.
“Alicia again?” Lucas asked.
“Yeah...”
“Library again?”
“Naw ... we went for a drive.”
“In that beater of yours?”
“It is not a beater,” Gary replied.
“That ‘88 Taurus? It is too a beater.”
“It is a gentleman’s vehicle,” Gary protested, “with an ample back seat.”
“Why don’t you just get a room?”
“It would give her the wrong idea. What are you doing?”
“I’m playing checkers with Sharon.”
“Checkers? With deaf chick?” Gary looked over his shoulder. He pointed to a man on the checkerboard. “Move here to block or she’ll have your ass.”
“Shit!” Lucas made the move. “I hadn’t seen that.”
darn came an instant message from Sharon. you blocked me
“See?” Gary said. “You’re getting hot with her aren’t you?”
“She’s a pal -- a buddy,” Lucas replied. “We’re just friends.”
Gary shook his head. “No such thing, Lucas. It is impossible for a man and a woman to be just friends ... it’s against nature. Unless one party or both are gay, that is...” He eyed Lucas. “You’re not gay, are you Lucas?”
“No, I’m not gay.”
“Good thing. For an instant I was getting the willies. Is deaf chick a lez?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“Sooner or later...” Gary held up his forearm, bent his wrist and made a fist. “ ... sex will rear its ugly head.”
“No it won’t.”
“It’s unavoidable, Lucas.”
“We have an agreement ... an understanding. Damn! She’s got me cornered.” I resign he typed into the instant message box.
“Think what you like.” Gary stripped down and climbed into his bed.
two out of three? came a message from Sharon.
k
The board reset and Lucas made a move.
“How long are you going to be clickety-clacking on that crappy keyboard of yours?” Gary asked.
“We’re playing for two out of three.”
“Then let’s hope deaf chick makes it quick. I’ve got an eight-o’clock tomorrow.”
Lucas stood with Sharon near the lectern in one of the large lecture halls. “Nervous?” he asked.
“No, I’m not nervous. I’m scared shitless. I’ve never had to speak in public before.”
“You’ve given this talk in Seminar.”
“Yes, but that was only our class. This is the entire department -- juniors and seniors, grad students and faculty.”
“Consider it an honor,” Lucas replied. “The prof thought your talk was good enough for the general seminar.”
“This can be a tough room. Remember last week’s seminar? Some of the questioners were merciless.”
“That was because the guy was ill-prepared. He deserved it. You know this material, Shar.”
“My hands are shaking.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “My heart is pounding.”
“Pull it together. You can do this. I’ll be here for moral support.” Lucas regarded the hall as the audience began to filter in. He picked up a stack of papers. “I’ll start distributing these.”
The seats were about a third filled when one of the profs closed the door.
Sharon stood behind the lectern. “Hi,” she said into the microphone. “My name is Sharon Glover...” She pointed to her ear. “I’m deaf ... in case you didn’t already know. Some folks think my speech is hard to understand, so I’ve printed out my talk and my friend Lucas is distributing it. Also, clipped to my talk are some index cards. If you have a question, please jot it down on the card and Lucas will collect them and bring them to me.” She glanced around the room. Attendees were passing her handouts to those seated behind them. Lucas brought the surplus to the lectern and then stood to the side, watching the audience.
“Okay, then,” Sharon continued, “here we go. The title of my talk is, Non-Heme Iron Coordination Chemistry.”
She began her presentation. Lucas scanned the crowd for anyone holding up an index card. One of the grad students held up a card and Lucas delivered it to Sharon.
She interrupted her talk. “I have a question,” she said and read from the card. “What is the difference between a heme and a non-heme iron compound?” She rolled her eyes upward in thought for a moment. “Let’s start with what heme means...”
Lucas nodded in approval at her extemporaneous explanation; then, she continued with her material.
Others held up more index cards. These he collected and handed to Sharon.
Finally, she concluded her talk. “Are there any last questions?” she asked. One of the profs held up a card. Lucas carried it to her and she read it. “Thank you,” she said with a smile. “Thank you very much.”
The hall began to empty. Lucas approached her. “You nailed it, Shar. I’m so proud of you. What was that last card?”
She handed it to him. It read, “Excellent talk 10 of 10.”
“You should feel good about yourself,” he said.
“I do. I couldn’t have done this without your help and support, Lucas.”
“So, how did you do?” Sharon asked Lucas as they sat together in the Union. Sitting on the table was a paper, folded in half.
“I haven’t looked at it,” he said.
“You have to look at it.”
“I bombed this test. I know I bombed it. Dr Chatterjee said he’ll throw out the lowest grade. God, if I bombed this it’s like I’ve wasted a time-out or something.”
“Didn’t you do the problems the way we practiced them?” she asked.
“Yeah ... Shar -- I have no confidence when it comes to Calc. None at all.” He pushed the paper toward her. “You look at it.” She picked it up and opened it. “Is it a C?” he asked.
Sharon pointed her finger upward. “A C-plus?” he asked. “B?” She continued to point upward. “B-plus?” He grabbed the paper from her. “Ninety-three ... an A- minus. I don’t think I’ve ever received an A on any Calc test ever.”
“Congratulations,” she said. Lucas emptied his coffee cup. Sharon looked into hers and swirled it. “Lucas...”
“What, Shar?”
“Homecoming is coming up.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Would you come with me to the Homecoming dance that Friday?”
“Dance? I don’t dance, Shar.”
“Dancing is fun,” she replied.
Lucas regarded her. “How can you dance if you can’t hear the music?”
“I can hear some of it. If it’s loud enough I can feel it.”
“Yeah, and it’s always loud enough. When I go to one of those things, by the time to leave my ears are ringing. It’s the one time I’d envy you.”
“They’ll have a local band -- the Cryptids. I hear they’re quite good.” She looked into his eyes. “Lucas -- I’ve done things you’ve suggested, and I’ve had a good time. Why don’t we do something I’d like to do?”
He nodded. “Fair enough, Shar. Okay -- we’ll go to the Homecoming dance.”
“Good,” she said and then drained her coffee cup. “Now we have a lab to get to.”
“Tuesday is lab day,” he replied. “Analytic lab in the morning and O-chem in the afternoon. I think I’m exposed to so many solvents in O-chem that I float back to the dorm.”
“The purpose of this lab,” the instructor announced, “is to give you an appreciation of modern analytic instrumentation. You will be determining the pH of an unknown using titration. All I will tell you is that all the unknowns have a pH between ten and thirteen. Once you have completed your work, you may use this pH meter to check your results. Find a partner and take an unknown. Make sure to record which unknown you selected on your lab report.”
Cheryl
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