Blind Love, Reunited

Just a friendly heads-up: I typically don't write characters that are saints. Instead, flawed people that are in remarkable situations or circumstances.

The part about LHON was learned secondhand. In the real-life situation that I know of, the guy got to keep the girl from the very beginning (or the other way around, depending on who you ask).

Thank you for the encouragement, MrEmotional. If it is vastly hated, does that make you culpable?

* O~>

Just like in my first interview two weeks prior, I detected a slight wafting smell of lavender as I sat and waited outside the principal's office at Orange Grove High School. The smell of lavender always brought me back to a happier time in my life. It's what Polly always smelled like. Suddenly the pleasant odor was violently replaced with a strong, gagging smell of the over-perfumed principal as she opened the door to invite me into her office.

After finding a chair and sitting down, she said, "Paul, your background check came through just fine and your fingerprints showed up clean earlier this week and are now on file. With that behind us, I'm clear to offer you the job. I have some more questions for you though, and I need to introduce you to the music teacher, but I thought we'd conduct this final interview over lunch. If you have no objections that is."

I lied and said I wouldn't object, though I strongly wished she would shower herself first. I knew that as soon as I got home this afternoon that I would surely have to shower and wash my clothes as her perfume and office odor would leave me reeking of the foul stuff, remembering the aftermath of my first interview vividly.

Mrs. Williams walked me out of the school and drove us to a little cafe down the street. When a waitress led us to a table, Mrs. Williams held my arm in hers, but I wished I could have just followed the sound of her footsteps and used my cane, I would have been a lot more comfortable with that.

The cafe didn't sound very crowded, of which I was grateful for, though on my left, a couple of people sat down at the adjacent table immediately after we sat at ours, and I heard what sounded like a party of four already eating at the table to my right. Mrs. Williams ordered a diet cola while I ordered an iced tea with lemon.

She asked, "Do you want me to read the menu to you?" I declined. I could smell the cheeseburgers from the kitchen, and it was just easier to go with something safe and easy than suffer the indignity of having someone read a menu to me.

"Paul," she started, "I care very much about my teachers. They are like family to me and I care very much about their wellbeing. I am very protective over my people, so I hope you will understand, and not make you too uncomfortable, but I'd like to ask you some personal questions this time around."

Since I have no life whatsoever, I had nothing to lose. I smiled and replied, "You want to know if I'm an axe murderer or not. I have no problem with that. Fire away."

She laughed at my response after letting out a deep breath that she had been holding. She said, "I could ascertain from your background check that you haven't always been blind. What happened? Were you in an accident?"

Oh, I thought to myself, that's how this is going to go. I replied, "Nope, it was nothing like that. I have a genetic disorder called Leber's hereditary optic neuropathy (LHON). Almost dodged it but at 25 years old, about 10 years ago now, it reared its ugly head. Never saw it coming." I was proud of my pun, I used it all the time, but I got no audible reaction from Mrs. Williams.

I did hear a woman at the table on my left gasp loudly. I figured that they were young people, they weren't engaged in any conversation, probably texting to one another while sitting right across the table from each other.

Mrs. Williams was quiet for a bit then said, "I've never heard of that before, did it come on suddenly?"

"Yeah, well, more or less. I was a little better than a scratch golfer at the time and on the first day of a tournament in Florida, I woke up with blurry vision. By day two, I could no longer see the pin, I had to ask my caddy to point in the right direction. On the third and final day, I had to drop out as it had gotten so bad. By the end of the week, I was completely blind."

She let that sink in and asked, "Can't that be repaired? Surgery?"

I sighed and said, "Nope. Permanent. I was born with it and didn't know it. Though men have a higher instance of being affected, it luckily spared my sister and my mother, so I had no idea it was coming from within our family DNA."

I detected that the woman who had gasped earlier was now gently crying. Her table mate, another young woman, tried to console her with a low, "Now, now."

Mrs. Williams let a long silence hang before saying, "That must have been tough. I read in your background that you had a full scholarship to golf for UCLA."

The waitress stopped by and we placed our order. She left and I gave her time to get out of earshot before I responded. "Yeah, well, it was tough, but that's the way life works, right? I did get a degree in business and then my MBA out of it. That and a whole lot of great memories."

"Tell me about that," she asked.

"Well, they were the best years of my life. I had an incredible girlfriend at the time that I was going to marry, bought the ring and everything. While she finished her last year at UCLA, I was going to golf professionally. I wasn't going to be the next Tiger Woods, but I was making a little money at it on tour. You know what though? I didn't really love it. I couldn't wait until the year was over and could be back in California, settling down to the next phase of my life. Starting a family and all. My girlfriend's father had a great job waiting for me and I was looking forward to getting that started. Then, like the saying goes, 'Man makes plans, and God laughs.' That pretty much sums it up."

Now the woman at the table on my left was sobbing. I leaned in to Mrs. Williams and softly asked if that woman was going to be alright. Mrs. Williams patted my hand and said, "Don't pay attention to any of that, she'll be fine."

I sat back up straight, but I'm sure I had concern on my face. I tried to mask it by taking a monstrous bite of my cheeseburger that had just been brought by the waitress, and then a slug of my iced tea. I realized that when my burger was right under my nose, the food's smell overpowered the stench of perfume from across the table. I decided to eat slower.

Mrs. Williams at least waited until I chewed my food before asking her next question. "What happened to the girl?" Oh, fuck. I shouldn't have mentioned Polly in the first place. I don't know what I was thinking.

"Ah, um," I had to collect my thoughts before I said, "she moved on. I hear she's married now and has a daughter. I understand she has a very happy life."

She sounded like she didn't believe me when she responded, "Really?!" There was a long pause before she went on, "So just like that, she moved on? Are you saying she couldn't live with your sudden blindness?" They were questions, but she said them like matter-of-fact statements.

Oh, shit. Why was this woman doing this to me? Did I really even want this job?

"Oh. Um. Actually... she never knew."

"What do you mean she never knew. You didn't tell her?"

"You don't understand. I was suddenly blind. For life. And Polly, um, Pauline, was a remarkable woman. She didn't deserve a life with a blind man. My potential earning power evaporated. I can't drive, I can't do even basic things. What if we did start a family? I couldn't possibly change a baby's diapers. She'd have to spend the rest of her life taking care of a disabled man. I just couldn't do that to her. I loved her too much. I had to let her go. Go on and be happy." The woman at the next table was violently sobbing now. At least most of the rest of the place had cleared out by then.

Mrs. Williams sternly asked, "What did you do." Again, not a question.

At that moment I really didn't care if I got the job or not. "This isn't going to paint me in the most favorable light, I understand, you can disqualify me for the job. I never lied to Polly. Never. But I knew I had to, just that once. I called her and told her I met someone else. I never saw her again." This time my pun even disgusted myself.

"Well, that was cold."

"Yeah, well, it was what was best for her. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, she would get over it, and being the kind of woman she was, good men would line up for her and whoever she chose would give her the life I couldn't."

I was about to push back and lay into my no-longer future boss for getting me to spill the ugly details of my life when the sobbing woman at the table on my left completely lost her shit, violently pushing back her chair and running from the table. Her companion got up and said something to someone, almost inaudible, but I made out something like, "I'll take care of it."

I asked, "What the hell was that all about?"

Mrs. Williams seemed to have gotten back to normal with, "Don't worry about it dear, it's just her own business." Then she asked, "What happened to the ring?"

I was confused, "What?"

"The ring. You said you bought her a ring. What happened to it?"

I just responded, "Uh. It's in the back of my sock drawer," then I abandoned my idea of eating slow, wolfing the rest of my burger down as fast as I could. I was ready for my day to be over.

* O~>

Curiously, after all that, I was offered the job and I took it. Reluctantly. It didn't pay much anyway, part time, teaching guitar two days a week in an after-school program that OGHS had been awarded through grant money. What made the job attractive was that the school was only a few miles from my apartment, and I could walk to and from easily. Hell, I walked more than that on a daily basis as part of my regular exercise regimen.

I actually didn't need the money all that bad. To begin with, I lived modestly. I got a disability benefit as long as I was doing some work, and I had another part time job fielding phone calls as part of a service desk, working for a network of doctors. I could do that job from home. I also had a small trust fund from my grandparents who passed away shortly after I went blind. The only reason I took the job at the high school was so I could be around some people.

It was actually my sister's idea. For years after being disabled, I lived with my sister and brother-in-law, taking care of her kids while she worked from home. I basically just kept them out of her hair. They're teenagers now, and I wasn't really needed any more, plus I figured it was about time my sister should be around her family without me underfoot so despite her protests, I found my own apartment and moved out. She would visit me and we'd have coffee a couple times a week and one day, in a moment of weakness, I complained about how quiet and lonely it was. The very next week she had arranged for an interview at the school. It didn't hurt that my sister was on the school board now.

It wasn't hard for her to convince me I was qualified, I had taught both her kids to play guitar. Just the thought of being among the living again was the real kick in the pants that made me follow through with applying for the job.

On the first day of work, I got to the school with 15 minutes to spare before the last bell and stood quietly at the back of the music room as I had prearranged with the music teacher. When the bell rang, chaos ensued and the teenagers made a mad dash for the exits. I chatted it up with the music teacher for a while, a nice lady who I could tell was older and counting the days until retirement. I didn't want to keep her after class, but she said she didn't mind waiting to go home until my appointments showed up. Eventually my three students straggled in and the music teacher bid me goodnight and asked me to lock up when I left.

Introductions all around were made and we got down to the lessons. One student had a little experience, but the other two had none. All were eager though, and they followed instructions and were respectful. Unfortunately, they all had expectations to be rocking death metal by the end of the class so were a little disappointed with themselves by the end of the lesson. I assured them that, yes, it isn't easy but with practice, they can learn this.

The lessons were 90 minutes long but I could swear that somewhere in the middle of it all, I sensed another presence in the back of the room. Not like I have the sense of Daredevil from the comic books by any means, not even close, but I got a waft of lavender. No sooner did I smell it, I had paused showing them chords, it was gone.

After giving them a study plan and urging them to practice, they left the room with their guitars, and I locked up behind me as I left. With the school empty of students and most of the teachers too, I took the opportunity to walk the halls with my cane, learning the layout of the building as I went along, counting steps, memorizing features in the hallway.

After a couple of laps, I started to make my way out of the building. While nearing the administration offices where I had interviewed, I walked through a distance of two steps that smelled of lavender. I backed up and with my cane confirmed there was a doorway and that it was open. The smell was strong here and I said, "Hello?" I guess on instinct, I whimpered, "Polly? Is it you?"

I didn't get an answer, but I didn't exactly wait for one either. I walked briskly out of the building, or at least as fast as I was comfortable going knowing from experience how much it hurts to outwalk my cane and smash my nose into a door or wall. Outside, I relaxed a little and walked home, trying to convince myself that it was only a figment of my imagination. I really had been thinking about Polly a lot lately, being so distracted that I even clipped a mailbox on the sidewalk that I've known was there from the two years I had been walking this route. I am sure I bruised myself pretty good, not that I would ever know for sure.

Once I entered my apartment, I did something I rarely do by making my way towards the cabinet where I keep some whiskey. Being blind and drunk, I learned the hard way too many times over the first year of being blind that it is a dangerous and painful combination. It didn't matter, I never made it to the cabinet as there was a knock on the door.

I opened the door to the smell of lavender. Fuck. I knew. My voice cracked as I asked, "Polly...?"

The only response I got was an angry, "You fuckhead!" Then I was crushed with a hug that knocked me back into my apartment, a quick kiss on the lips, then being released, the front door slammed. Polly standing before me, breathing hard, audibly crying.

I just stood there. Stunned. Not knowing what to say.

She composed herself enough to speak, "How could you?! How could you do that?! We were soulmates. Nobody had a love like ours in the history of love, and then you fucking tear my heart out. I've never been so hurt. How could you do that to me? To us? Because you're blind?! I wouldn't have cared, I would have been there for you. You should have turned to me, and you didn't. Now that I know, it's like you ripped my heart out a second time." Then she started some mixture of moaning, wailing, sobbing. She sounded like a wounded animal.

It all hit me like a hammer to my forehead. With a lump in my throat I said, "You were there. In the cafe. It was you at the table next to me and Mrs. Williams. And it was you at the school today."

She responded with anger, "Yes, you stupid fuck. I'm a teacher at the school and I saw her interviewing you. I told Beverly about our history and all my unanswered questions, so she called you out for me. Then I followed you home, so I could tell you what I've waited ten years to tell you. I. Fucking. Hate. You. Asshole."

"Polly," I stuttered, "I'm sorry. I never..."

She cut me off with a screamed, "Asshole!" Then she stormed off and jerked the door open, loudly slamming it behind her.

I was so in shock from the encounter that I just stood there trembling. I finally made my way to the cabinet and poured myself a whiskey into a glass with shaking hands. The glass never made it to my lips. I broke down and crumpled to the floor, crying hard, crushed again over the greatest loss of my life.

That all ended when I heard her. She hadn't really left. She said, "So you're just as hurt and broken. I knew it. It didn't have to be this way, asshole." Then she left, at least without slamming the door. I double checked the room just to be sure she was really gone.

* O~>

Over the weekend, my sister, Eva, stopped by my apartment for coffee. I was still shaken up over my encounters with Polly, and of course, Eva wanted to hear all the details. I told her everything, as I always have with my sister, and then she asked to recount my final interview at the cafe which Polly had been tuned into, so I did.

Eva said, "Well, I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, but thought it would be less... um, negative. Drama for sure, but I was hoping it would be good drama. Closure with a hope for a new beginning."

I forgot what a nosy, meddling personality my sister had and I got the meaning. "So you knew she worked at the high school"

She replied, "Of course." Then I thought back to finding my own apartment, it was Eva who found this place for me. Even walking around the neighborhood with me as I established a walking route, one that went right by the high school. It was even Eva who found the opening for the after school music instructor.

I shook my head at her in disapproval. I should have known all along that she had an agenda.

"What?" She was in defense mode now, "I've been keeping tabs on her from time to time, it isn't all that hard to do these days, and the timing was just right."

I didn't say anything so she went on, "You know I thought what you did to her sucked, remember our argument back then? You were so irrational when you went blind, but I supported you after you begged me not to tell her. She, on the other hand, would have supported you through all this without hesitation, you know. You wouldn't have been so alone, you'd be such a happier person right now."

She took a slug of her coffee and went on, "Pauline is a gem. The love you two had was priceless. Mom and Dad just loved her. They hated what you did to her too. Even her parents loved you to death and would have wanted her to support you all the way."

I called her on it. "Cut the bullshit! I made the right decision. She's much happier now than if she had been stuck with me. She has a life for herself."

"Are you sure about that, Sherlock?" I hated when she went into know-it-all big sister mode like this. She continued, "You don't know anything about her life. I think you should talk to her."

I answered maybe a little too angry, "Well she sure as fuck doesn't want to talk to me now. The last thing she did before she tricked me and left my apartment was to tell me she hated me and call me an 'asshole'. And another thing! I've been happy, I wasn't alone, I got to be with you and Rick, and got to be an important part of my nephew and niece's lives as they grew up."

Eva got real calm and said, "Just talk to her, Paul. Calmly, without all the pent up emotion. Just talk to her."

* O~>

At school on Tuesday, I thought about what my sister had said and then decided not to do it. Part of it was resolve for my decision and wanting to give her a life free of me as a burden or even a worry. Part of it was cowardice. Seeing her again, well not literally, had stirred up emotions and put me into a funk again. I missed her. All over again. I had lost so much with one little fucked up piece of DNA.