Whisper (7 page)

I wonder what Keisha's job might be. What job could a deaf teenage girl get? But it's hard to get a word, or a sign, in.Finally I manage to ask.

‘I work in a cafe,' Keisha signs. ‘I love it.'

‘How do you do it?' I ask. ‘I mean, how do you know you'll get the customer's orders right? Or explain things to them?'

Keisha mimes handwriting. ‘It works fine,' she signs.‘Everyone in town knows I'm deaf, so they're used to it.'

I realise I'm staring at Keisha. She's so … I don't know.She's just seems so fine about being deaf. It's as though getting her customers to write down their orders is no big deal. That's just the way it is.

‘You're lucky that you're allowed to work,' Erica signs, looking at me like she wants me to agree. ‘Mum reckons I've got enough on my plate without working as well. But my clothes are crap and she never buys me new ones.'

I'd like to ask Keisha more about her work, but she's pulling a magazine out of her school bag.

‘I want something like this, only cheaper,' Keisha signs.

She shows me a page of celebrities who have been marked out of ten for their outfits. She points to a photo of a blonde, skinny model in a summer dress that probably cost thousands of dollars.

‘They only gave her a seven!' she signs, throwing her hands up in disgust. It's funny seeing Keisha get all worked up about the ranking of some celebrity in a magazine.

‘This is nice too.' Erica leans over Keisha's shoulder as Keisha points to some model wearing a tiny pink dress.I'm worried Keisha's about to move on to the actress in the next photo, who has scored a measly three for her tie-dyed bikini top, denim short-shorts and stilettos. I agree with the judges on this one. I'm not a fan of the look
or
the girl.

I wave my hand in front of Keisha's face, because I have a feeling this could go on for a long time. ‘Where are you going?'

‘North f-i-e-l-d', Keisha signs.

There's a wobble inside me and I feel my chest tightening.I can feel the panic growing and spreading, taking hold of me.

Northfield. Northfield.

I have to put my bag down. I have to sit. I make my way to a bench seat at the side of the corridor.

I tell myself I will calm down. I tell myself it's all in my head, which means I can stop it. It's happened before, and I survived those attacks. The first one was after reading Harry's note about my ears. The second one was after the fight with Nadia.

But those attacks were nothing like the one at Northfield.I've never told anyone what happened there.

Keisha and Erica are on another planet. On their planet, there is still enough air for them to continue talking and signing about dresses and models and shopping. I am feeling dizzy, like I've been spinning around and stopped suddenly.Everything's blurred, and I feel like I might throw up.

I can calm down. I can breathe.

‘Are you OK?' Erica asks. She and Keisha are standing in front of me. I don't know how they got there, and they still look fuzzy to me. They might have floated over.

‘You've gone pale,' Keisha says.

I look down at my hands. They're quivering. I hold on to my thighs to steady them.

I can't talk yet. I can't sign yet. I breathe. Long, deep breaths.

Keisha sits beside me. Her hand is on my back. Erica is crouching in front of me. Her eyes are wide. She is slowly coming back into focus.

‘Should we get a teacher?'

I don't think I'm going to vomit. I risk a shake of the head.I free my hands and look at them before I sign. The shaking has settled. I breathe until I feel I can use my hands without the girls noticing.

‘I'm fine now. Really.'

Keisha's hand leaves my back. ‘You scared me,' she signs.‘Are you asthmatic?'

I nod. I lie. But people who have panic attacks are not quite right. People who have asthma can't help it.

‘You look better,' Erica signs. ‘Don't you have an asthma puffer?'

I nod and point to my bag. It's another lie. ‘But I don't need it.'

I'm getting enough oxygen now, though sometimes my breath comes as a shudder, like it does after a big crying session. I'm exhausted. But it's over.

‘Want us to take you home?' Keisha signs. ‘We can go shopping another time.'

Erica gives her a look. A ‘how about we
don't
take her home and go shopping like we planned?' look.Keisha ignores her.

‘No,' I sign. ‘But thanks.'

‘Then why don't you come with us?' Keisha asks, and as soon as she's finished using her hands to sign she rubs my back again. I wish she wouldn't. It's bad enough that I flipped out in front of them. I just want them to forget what happened. I just want to be left alone.

‘I can't come. I've got my nephew's birthday party.'

‘Are you an auntie? That's crazy. How old is your nephew?'Erica asks.

‘Turning seven,' I answer. ‘You want to see a photo?'

I go to my bag to get my phone and also to escape the back rub. I show them the photo of Harry and Oscar that I have as my wallpaper.

‘So cute!' Keisha signs.

I can feel myself relaxing a bit. I'm so relieved that the panic attack is over. The girls don't seem to suspect anything and, more importantly, they haven't figured out what started it.A teenager who doesn't want to go shopping is even weirder than a teenager who has panic attacks. I'm secretly relieved I have Harry's party to go to. Otherwise I would've had to make up some story about not liking big shopping centres or something, and I don't have the energy for that right now.

We all walk together to the tram stop. Keisha and Erica make sure I'm OK before they cross the road to take a tram in the opposite direction.

‘Have fun,' I sign to them when they get across the road to their tram stop. Like it wasn't a big deal, what just happened.Like I don't care where they're going. Like it doesn't push any buttons.

‘You too,' they sign, as my tram slides between us.

Felicity and Ryan's house is gorgeous. It's large and angular and modern, with lots of windows.

The front door is open, and there are balloons all around the door frame. Mum walks in first, carrying a birthday cake with musical candles. The candles make a robotic, toneless kind of music – I remember that.

Dad trudges in behind Mum. He hates crowds, and we all know there will be one. Flawless wouldn't consider it a proper party otherwise. He turns to look at me.

I cross my eyes and poke out my tongue. He does the same.

There's no-one in the house. We pass into the kitchen so Mum can put down the cake. There are bowls of pita crisps and platters of dip on the bench. On the kitchen table is a neat pile of presents, most of them beautifully wrapped.I know that after the party, Flawless will supervise the unwrapping. She will write down what was from who and get Harry to write thank-you notes within a week.

‘Hi, guys,' Flawless says, coming in through the back door.She looks amazing, kind of like a weather girl on TV. She's wearing a bright blue dress that crosses over her chest, and high heels studded with sparkly pink flowers. Her nails and lips are the same shade of pink.

‘Oh, how sweet, Dem,' she says, looking at the present in my hands. ‘Do you want to put it with the other gifts?'

I finger the present I've brought for Harry. It's wrapped with glossy pages from a magazine, stuck together with masking tape because I couldn't find the regular sticky tape.It's an action figure. I don't want to put it on the table. I want to give it to Harry myself.

Flawless opens the fridge to get something. While her back is turned, I stuff the present into my bag. I'll sneak it to him when I get a chance.

I'm looking down, so I feel the tap-tap of striding heels before I see them.

Felicity's mum. It's always entertaining to see her.Her hair is platinum blonde, the skin of her face pulled tight. Today she is wearing a red pencil skirt and jacket, and she's towing a man about Ryan's age behind her. The poor guy looks like he's surprised to be here, being led along by this older woman.

Dad always gets a bit fidgety when he sees his ex-wife. I see him shove his hands into his pockets. ‘Hello, Vivian,' he greets her.

Vivian air-kisses Dad, completely ignoring my mum.Mum has a funny expression on her face, as though she's eaten something that's gone off, and has nowhere to spit it out.

Vivian gives Felicity a stiff hug. I realise it's a goodbye hug, though the party has only just started.

Felicity watches her mother as she leads her boyfriend down the hall and out the front door. Vivian tosses her head, and her hair shimmers like hair in a shampoo commercial.

We follow Felicity out into the backyard.

It's all happening out there. On the left, there is a marquee with a bar and high tables with stools. Felicity must have hired it all. There seem to be a lot of adults sitting around for a kid's party.

On the other side is a jumping castle with a giant slide.Nearby a pretty woman dressed as a fairy organises a row of children waiting to get their faces painted.

My legs are being hugged. I look down and see that the hugger is a lion.

‘Raah,' Harry says, showing me his claws.

‘Raah,' I say out loud, hugging him back. ‘Happy birthday, Fierce Lion.'

I crouch so that we are face to face.

‘Wow,' I say, ‘who are all your friends?'

Harry bites a lip, surveying the kids. His face brightens when his eyes land on a little boy who is eating fairy floss and watching other kids come down the slide.

‘There he is!' Harry says, turning so I can see his face as he speaks. ‘That's A-l-f-i-e.' Harry doesn't know much sign, but he has learnt the alphabet, for me. ‘From my class,' he continues.

‘Oh,' I say, ‘that's great!' But I'm wondering who the other kids are if they're not Harry's friends.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up.

‘Hi, Dem,' Ryan says, giving me a kiss on the cheek as I stand. His shirt is the same blue as Felicity's dress. She likes things to match.

‘How's my favourite sister-in-law?' he signs as he speaks, and even though he gets favourite wrong, holds up the wrong fingers, I like that he's trying.

‘You mean your only sister-in-law,' I sign, and he gets it.He should. We do this all the time.

‘Same thing,' he says, completing our ritual.

‘I'm good thanks,' I say. ‘Started at the new –'

Felicity grabs me by the arm and pulls me over to where she is standing with another woman.

‘This is M-a-g-g-i-e S-c-o-t-t. She works with Ryan,' she says, signing at the same time. It takes a while for Felicity to finger spell her name. I guess I should be glad the name isn't longer. Maggie Scott looks at Flawless's fingers, obviously fascinated. ‘And over there are her lovely children, L-a-r-a and M-i-a.'

Flawless points. Lara is dressed as a fairy. Her little sister is in the process of having her face painted as a butterfly.Which makes her a caterpillar, I guess, logically.

I feel a flash of anger. These kids aren't even Harry's friends! Felicity has let Harry invite one lousy friend from school. It's all about Felicity having a chance to show off her perfect house and her perfect life to Ryan's work colleagues.She's using her seven-year-old's birthday party to network.It's so selfish!

Maggie seems to be having trouble with her heels.She turns towards me, but one gets stuck in the grass.

‘Maggie, this is my little sister, Demi,' Felicity continues.

‘OH HELLO!' Maggie says, easing a heel up and out.‘HOW ARE YOU, DEMI? IT'S VERY NICE TO MEET YOU.'

Maggie is speaking loudly. I can tell because there's too much space between her words. Her mouth is open and round like a laughing clown at a fun park. It's something people sometimes do when they are really uncomfortable taking to someone deaf. It can actually make people harder to understand. I've learnt to lip read when people are speaking normally.

‘GOOD THANK YOU,' I say, speaking too loudly and slowly, mimicking her.

I can tell Felicity gets it. Her raised eyebrows are for me, imperceptible to Maggie. Her champagne glass is drained in the next mouthful.

‘Maggie is a criminal lawyer,' Felicity says, facing me directly. She turns to Maggie. I can guess what she's saying even if I can't see it properly. Maggie confirms it.

‘OH REALLY!' she says to me. ‘EVEN THOUGH …?' She stops. Changes direction. ‘HOW VERY BRAVE! AND …' She lifts her glass to her lips so the last word is obscured.It might have been ambitious or ridiculous. I only see the ‘ous'. I guess the words are pretty much interchangeable anyway.

I wish Felicity hadn't told her.

I wish I could come back at her, say something biting.

I wish I could say that I'm deaf, not
retarded
.