THE DIRECTOR APPROACHES THE TROUBLED TRIO

"What do you think Dickerson wants, Pudge?" Orvie asked me.

I turned to the sound of Bentley's sigh. "What do you think, Bentley, m' dear?"

"Well, he might be wondering who put the Elmer's Glue in Mr. Athelstan's slippers, you think?" Bentley, the "girl member" of the Troubled Trio, was also the most pessimistic.

"That was over two weeks ago." Orvie snorted. "Dickerson can't—"

"Dickerson can't what?" came the baritone voice of the Director of the New York State School for the Blind.

"Oh, sir." Orvie's voice went flat. Damn it, of course we didn't check on whether the Dick's door was open before we began talking. We couldn't have, after all, unless we'd gone over and felt the doorknob, and then he might've asked why we were doing that.

How much had he heard? Orvie can see shadows in very good light, faintly, but he saw nothing, as he was running his mouth. Bentley and I are totals—totally blind, unfortunately.

"Come in, you three. No the Troubled Trio isn't in trouble just now. Though you've been giving me fits for the past decade, long before I was Director…remember when I taught third grade?"

We tittered obediently. Of course Dickerson wasn't so bad. And Orvie and had known him since we came to the school at five—and Bentley since summer before second grade. But why did he want to see us?

"I wanted to see you because you're good kids—basically, and there's a new boy coming to the school. His name is Matthew Murdock. He was recently blinded and I think he's a little unused to things…

Murdock's your age, fifteen, his dad was a boxer or something, but was recently killed, and Matt is an orphan, and a ward of the state, and will be staying at the school year round, like you do, Rupert, when you're not visiting Orville's family, or with Bentley's grandparents."

Ah. A fellow orphan. Although I'm not really an orphan. My family stopped visiting me or letting me visit THEM when they discovered that I was simultaneously not only visually impaired, but a. fat b. " A snotty genius" (in Bentley's words) or c. a homosexual.

Yeah, it was C. Last thing my father said to me on the last visit when I was eleven was "You're such a little faggot." Ah well. The School's been a good family to me. 'Specially Bentley and Orvie…so, this Murdock brat, I guess we should be nice. Or at least civil, right?

MATT MURDOCK, NEW KID

"So dis is it, kid." Solly Weinburgen, Pop's old trainer patted his horny old hand on Matt's shoulder.

"Thanks, Solly. You didn't have to carry my bag this far, really you didn't." How could Matt explain to the grizzled old pug that he'd "felt" the image of the building, practically from getting out of the car? It was almost as if the wind had blown the blueprint onto Matt's face, he'd smelled the year-old paint…and he was in great shape. Embarrassingly great shape.

And of course there had been Stick…Solly had never met Stick, and wouldn't believe it if he had. It was amazing to Solly that Matt had advanced as far as he had with only Trio weeks out of the hospital…Matt barely needed his cane, he was fetching Solly's cigars, going to the bodega…and then Matt had met Stick, who was even less blind, yet totally blind…

Solly's voice interrupted Matt's ruminations. "Kid, I gotta go. You're by da uh, whatcha-callit dy-rector's aw-fice, an' dat's as far as I go. I don't like school. Ain't been in since I quit thoid grade when I was twelve, but it still gives me da creeps. Write if you need cash."

Solly gave Matt a fierce hug and stomped off, and Matt turned his head, envisioning the stocky old man's strut. It was as if the bulk of the guy, the sweat, the sagging skin—Matt felt it in his face. Very curious.

But Stick had said, with a whiskey inflamed breath, "Matt, it doesn't matter how you have these senses, you'll learn as I have, that eyes are just a fuckin' distraction."

Well, maybe so. Matt turned and knocked on the door.

PELHAM DICKERSON IS RELIEVED

Director Pelham Dickerson ushered Matthew Murdock into his office, and shut the door. He realized that he had to close the door more often so he didn't sneak up on the kids. Orvie, Bentley and Rupert—or Pudge, as he was known, grasped their long white canes and stood up in unison. Polite teenagers, blind kids.

"Matt, we're glad to have you." Young Murdock seemed to be a nice looking kid, red hair, fairly tall. And, unlike the newly blind, he seemed to have a bit of assurance about him. Dickerson was relieved at this—a lot of the kids who came into the School who'd just lost their sight seemed so traumatized.

It was a terrible thing to say, but it was much easier on kids who had been blind all their lives, like Orville and Pudge, or early on like Bentley, who was such a pretty blonde girl…shame about the accident. Some playground thing when she was seven.

But Murdock's had been even more shameful—blinded by acid while rescuing a blind man from being run over.

But hey—as Dickerson was standing here wool-gathering, the kids had introduced themselves. This was good. Frankly, the big reason why he'd wanted Matt to meet the so-called "Troubled Trio" was, they were the brightest kids in the school…perhaps a little nerdy—Pudge was a queer, of course—but they were sensitive and seemed like they'd be good companions for young Murdock, who was some sort of honor student.

Now Matt was talking to Orville. "Yeah, I used to skateboard a little. You can do that as a blind person?"

Orvie laughed. "We have a guy here who does it, and he clicks his tongue to create a sort of sound around him so he doesn't fall—and we have bicyclists, also, although Mr. Dickerson won't let us bike outside the walls."

"Well, Orville, all we need is a lawsuit." Good God. Bike outside the walls. Dickerson was all in favor of courage, but these kids—hubris.

"Do you like to write, Matthew?" Pudge was asking. "I edit what passes for a school newspaper here." There was a pause. "And I direct the Dramatic Society."

"Not very kindly" came Bentley's voice. "Pudge thinks he's George Lucas, but he's like a little Napoleon."

After the kids left, Dickerson thought about a glass of vodka, and then thought about his AA meeting that night. This job could really get to a man.