Doug Larsen - The Content of Their Character

“Tell me about it. I could be having a beer and debugging a program right now. Instead, I hear about a TV program on virtual reality, go to find you to tell you about it, and end up in a rumble! You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?”

“Yeah, but who else will laugh at your jokes?”

Jim laughed, and we waited until the security guys came in and took away our captive.

The police finally arrested the guy, and took Rachel to the station to make a statement. Jim headed off to the library, and I sat in the apartment and tried to calm down. I was still shaky, but exhilarated at the same time. Maybe I should take some judo classes. If I could fit them in my schedule.

Someone knocked at the door. Instead of calling out, I went to answer it. The fight had made me a little bit wary.

“Who is it?” I called at the door.

“Rachel,” she sang out.

Delighted, I opened the door. “Hi! How are you feeling?”

“Oh, a little shaky, but otherwise fine. Where’s Jim?” she asked.

“Down at the library,” I said. “What’s up?”

She cleared her throat nervously. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me down in the storeroom.”

“I was glad to do it,” I said honestly.

“It was really scary,” she said seriously. “You can’t imagine the relief I felt when I heard your voice.”

“It was just lucky Jim came along, too,” I said, feeling myself blush with pleasure.

“I saw you coming after that jerk before Jim showed up,” she said. “You were very brave.” I felt her hand on my arm, and then she kissed my cheek. Without realizing it, I had slipped my arm around her waist.

I froze, not knowing if she would object or not, but unable to let go. This was something I’d wanted for as long as I could remember.

I waited for her to pull away, but she didn’t.

“Rachel,” I said, my voice trembling, “can I feel your face?”

“What?” she asked uncertainly.

“Feel your face. It’s something we blind folks do, to really get to know someone better.” I felt my face flaming with emotion as I talked.

“OK,” she said, sounding a little unsteady.

I didn’t let go of her waist. I used my other hand, and traced how her hair framed her face, and followed the delicate arch of her eyebrows. From the angle of her face, I could tell she was looking up at me. I felt the curve of her nose, and the soft fullness of her cheeks. I traced her mouth, feeling her moist lips slightly open. She stood very still, and I might only have imagined the trembling I felt. I gently brushed the smoothness of her silky neck, and felt where it met her shoulder. One of my fingers stumbled across the pulse in her neck, and felt it pounding at high speed.

“I was right,” I said, feeling dizzy. “You’re beautiful! I knew you would be.”

“I’m glad you think so,” she said, her voice shaking.

My hand rested on one side of her chin, and I wondered if I had the nerve to try to kiss her. My blood pounded in my head as I hesitated, and then she brought her arms up around my neck and pressed her lips against mine.

I almost staggered backwards in astonishment, and then recovered and returned her open-mouthed kiss. I put both arms around her waist and pulled her to me, and she responded by hugging my neck even tighter. Her lips were soft and firm and electric, and my brain buzzed in disbelief that I was the one receiving such a passionate kiss.

After a long, long time, we stopped and leaned back in each others’ arms.

“Wow,” she said with a shaky laugh.

“Wow,” I agreed. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages.”

“Me too.”

The impact of her statement sank in, and with an enormous feeling of joy, I leaned down to kiss her again.

She met me halfway.

After quite awhile, there were footsteps in the hall, and then Jim’s voice came.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

We broke off guiltily, and I answered. “It’s just me and Rachel, Jim.” My voice was husky with passion.

“It’s fine, Jim,” Rachel said breathlessly. “We’re just talking.” Her face was very close to mine, and we hadn’t let each other go.

“Oh?” Jim asked, uncertainly. “Oh!” he added with sudden understanding. Humor and happiness flooded into his voice. “I’ll just be downstairs for awhile, to let you kids keep on… talking.” He walked away chuckling, and then burst into a chorus of “Isn’t it Romantic?”

Rachel and I leaned against each other and laughed as quietly as we could. After awhile, I found my hand beneath her chin again, and this time I had the nerve to guide her mouth to mine.

We were supposed to be playing chess that night, but it wasn’t much of a game. Jim was creaming me. I sat in a fluffs’ fog, wafted away on the music of Ravel that Jim had put on the disc player, and relived the evening’s events over and over and over.

“James!” Jim’s voice cut into my reverie.

“Yeah?”

“I was checking to see if you were still with me.”

“I’m here. I suppose I ought to concede the game.”

Jim laughed. “Considering I just announced checkmate, maybe you should.”

I ruminated a minute. “I didn’t know you had a recording of Ravel,” I said.

“I usually don’t play it,” Jim said. “But tonight it seemed appropriate. Congratulations, James.”

I felt myself getting warm all over again. “Thanks. I still can’t believe it.”

“You’ve been in love with her for ages, haven’t you?”

I was startled. “Was it that obvious??”

“Believe it. I was just wondering when you two were going to get together.”

I smiled happily. “And my reality helmet is coming right along. When I get the thing patented, I’ll be in a position to be able to get more serious about our relationship.”

“Why wait?”

“Well—I’m blind, Jim. She’s not. I have to be able to show that I’m worthy of her.”

“Patents don’t show that, James.”

“I know, but you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. You’re selling yourself short. You’re a great guy, and she’s crazy about you. She’s always been crazy about you. There’s nothing technological or economic about her feelings toward you. You’re selling her short, too.”

I chewed on that for a long time. “Well, I don’t know…” I trailed off as we heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I called.

“It’s Ken,” my nephew Kenny’s muffled voice said.

“I forgot about him,” I said. “Come on in,” I called, and then turned to Jim. “It’s my nephew—the one I told you about. He’s here to pick up some software manuals.”

Kenny’s footsteps sounded in the hall, and then stopped dead.

“Er—hi, Uncle Jim,” he said abruptly. His voice radiated surprise, disapproval, discomfort. Anger, even.

“Hi, Ken. How’s it going?”

“Um—who’s this?”

“Oh, right. You two haven’t met. Ken, this is my roommate, Jim. Jim, this is my nephew, Ken.” Jim knew all about Ken, but I was just being polite.

“Hi, Ken,” Jim said.

“Yeah.” Ken snapped. “Uncle Jim, what are you doing?!”

“Doing about what?”

“This guy’s black! You’re a white man, living in the same room as a black guy!”

Miraculously, the answer leaped into my mind immediately. I aimed my head in his direction and pretended not to understand. “What’s ‘black’?” I asked, managing to sound puzzled.

Jim came in right on cue. “What’s ‘white’?” he added.

Ken made a strangled noise. “Oh, yeah, right, very funny. But I’m not going to sit around here and see my own uncle, living with a monkey!”

It was amazing how easy it turned out to be. “Kenny, you idiot,” I said in my strongest voice, “I don’t have any idea how you can think you’re superior to anyone. You don’t have the intelligence God gave gravel. You’ve accomplished nothing in your life. You have no redeeming personality traits whatsoever.” I picked up a can of roach spray and pointed it at him. “You’re a good-for-nothing asshole. Now get the hell out of our room, before I spray you like the cockroach you are.”