The Right Romance Story
A knock pulls my attention from the book, Frankenstein, which is on my lap. It's Helen. She doesn't wait for me to tell her to come in. She just walks over the threshold with her arms outstretched like tree branches. She's been coming by regularly for the past month, ever since Annie taught her that objects have meanings—meanings that are words. Helen's fingers brush over my bookshelf, resting upon my bible—the biggest book on the shelf. She pulls it off and makes her way to my bed. The leather Bible slides from her hands and lands in front of me. She clambers onto the bed after it.
"What do you have there, Helen?" I don't like to talk to her when people are around; it makes me feel foolish. We know she can't understand us, but when we're alone, I love to talk, because a part of me feels like she understands something when I speak.
Helen grabs my hand and slaps the bible. I spell B-O-O-K into her hand. She nods vigorously and slaps the bible again. I spell B-O-O-K, again. She slaps the bible once more, harder and irritably. "What do you want of me, Helen? I'm telling you it's a book."
Annie taught the whole family the alphabet, but I'm not yet fluent in it, and I have forgotten the signs for X and Q. The servant, Percy, picked it right up. He and Helen talk daily, about what I don't know; I can't understand with their speed.
Helen grabs the book and shakes it angrily before throwing it to the ground. She stares off at my blank wall. Her eyes are empty, seeing nothing. What lies behind them? What thoughts swirl trapped in her head, begging to be heard? I used to think she was crazy, insane. But Annie came and proved all of us wrong. Helen is probably smarter than all of us.
I reach for Helen's shoulder and pat it. "It will be all right now."
"She wants you to read it." Annie appears in my doorway. I didn't know she was there. She wears her gray day dress, except her sleeves are rolled up and the first button at her neck is undone. Her hair is a mess, hardly being held in its bun. She looks younger, like a young lady rather than a sophisticated teacher. "I was looking for Helen. She ran away right before her bath. I should have known she would be here. Are you hiding any candy for her?" I almost see a smirk on Annie's face. Father, Katie, and I are no longer allowed to bribe Helen with candy. I still do, though, sometimes.
"Me? Of course not."
Helen senses her teacher, and she scrambles for the bible before crawling over to Annie with it in one arm. "Not now, Helen. You must take your bath," Annie says this as she spells into Helen's hand. I watch the disappointment fall upon my sister's face. She looks like a puppy begging for food scraps.
"One story won't hurt." I fight for Helen. Annie looks at me and sighs. I won. She leads Helen over to my bed and sits on the far edge. She opens the book, and it opens like it's being opened for the first time. Annie stares at me, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm not much of a reader," I say, excusing my unread bible.
Annie begins spelling into Helen's hand. I watch with fascination. Helen's face changes with each word in the story, going from surprise to disdain to joy. I scoot closer; I'm curious. Helen grabs my hand with her free one and leads it towards the book.
"Would you like to read to her?" Annie looks across at me. She has bags under her eyes.
"I don't think that would be wise. I'm not fast, and I don't know all of the letters."
"Well you're not going to get better unless you practice."
"I'll practice on my own, not in front of Helen. I wouldn't want to frustrate her with my slow letters." Nor would I want to embarrass myself in front of Annie. I'm two years older, but she has accomplished so much more than me. "You two should get ready for bed. I will see if Katie will take Helen into town with her tomorrow. It looks like you could use a break, Miss Sullivan."
Annie doesn't agree that she needs a break, but she doesn't deny it. I walk them to my door, and they disappear down the hall. Back on my bed, I pick up the bible and open it. I try spelling out sentences, but my hand begins to cramp, so I toss it to the floor, forgetting that it's the Holy Bible.
Katie takes Helen into town after hearing my suggestion of giving Annie time to unwind. It's been nonstop for her for quite a while.
Even though Helen has been tamed, the house is very quiet and still with her gone. Mildred is taking her noontime nap and Father is off doing his own business.
I make myself a cup of coffee and a sandwich and go to the parlor with Frankenstein under my shoulder. Father would disapprove of my book choice. Annie is sitting on the silk couch. I thought she would be upstairs sleeping, but instead her nose is buried in the book Pride and Prejudice. A cold cup of tea sits on the table along with her dark, circled glasses. I sit down next to her, because there is nowhere else to sit. Mildred spat up in the chair across, and even though Viney claims to have cleaned it, I refuse to sit in it.
"I thought you said you didn't read?" Annie looks over at the book on my lap.
"I don't, Miss Sullivan, at least not the bible."
"I see." She nods. "You needn't call me Miss Sullivan. Annie would do."
"Okay, Annie."
We turn back to our books for the next half an hour until Annie speaks again. "Have you practiced your signing? Helen would be ecstatic if she could carry out a decent conversation with you."
"A little, but my hand cramps from making the letters." I hope it doesn't sound like I'm whining.
"You're probably straining too hard. Just relax and allow the letters to flow." She sets her book down and motions for me to start spelling. I try, but I fumble on many words.
"You're over thinking it, James. Just spell."
I try again, but my hand becomes fatigued and it falls to my lap. "You're still trying too hard," Annie berates. She thinks for a moment before saying, "May I?" She points to my signing hand. I nod towards her, and she grabs my hand in her two dainty ones. They're soft like silk compared to mine that are as rough as bark from working outside. She spells out the alphabet with such ease that I am given confidence that someday I will be able to sign fluently.
We spend the next hour working on my efficiency and speed. She reteaches me the Q and X and gives me tips on how to speak with Helen.
"Thanks for the help," I say as our lesson comes to an end. "You're here to teach Helen, and you're teaching me."
"Well you're a good student. Your attitude has come a long way since my arrival, and it's quite impressive." She drops my hand, and for the first time I realize how close we are. Our knees touch, and she's partially turned sideways, facing me.
"So, you like Pride and Prejudice?" I say, trying to stifle the fact of our proximity.
"Who doesn't like a good romance story?" Annie laughs.
"I don't." I lift up Frankenstein and shrug.
"Well, maybe you just haven't found the right one yet." Annie lets out a sigh, and her warm breath hits my cheek. It's tinted with peppermint from her consumption of tea.
I can't really comprehend what happens next. I'm staring into her eyes that are the richest of brown, something I've never noticed because she's always hiding behind those damned glasses. Then she's closer, and I lose focus of her eyes because her lips are on mine, and we're kissing. I've never kissed a girl, but it turns out to be simple. My hand finds a place on her cheek, and hers falls behind my neck. It feels so right, and yet it feels wrong. She's here to be Helen's teacher, not my lover. But her touch is soft and caring, and I relish her attention.
Annie must come to her senses, because she pulls away to smooth her dress out. "That's not supposed to happen," she mumbles. We sit awkwardly for a few moments.
"Sorry," I finally say, though I don't see why I apologized. I shouldn't apologize for something I don't really regret.
"It wasn't your fault, but I think it would be best if we put this moment behind us. You should stick to Frankenstein."
I nod reluctantly.
The sound of the carriage enters our ears. Katie and Helen are back. Annie takes her book and tea to the kitchen. I watch her leave, though I wish she wouldn't. I've never been in love, but kissing Annie Sullivan makes me want to experience it.
I look out the window and watch as the carriage comes closer, following the winding path to the house. But something catches my eyes, making them look downwards. A dark forehead and eyes peer up at me through the window. Percy! He lifts his head higher, and our eyes connect. He chuckles at me before running off to help with the carriage's horses. That little bastard saw everything. If he tells Helen or Parents anything, I'll have his head.
Even though our kiss can't have meant anything, Annie avoids any contact for the rest of the day. Percy, however, doesn't. He smirks when we're nearby and raises his eyebrows. I scowl and stare daggers at him. It gets to the point where I drag him out to the barn by his ear. He squeals all the way, but I don't care.
"You can't tell anyone, Percy. Do you hear me?"
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." He fiddles with his ear. "But why shouldn't I?"
"Because it meant nothing."
"Oh that kiss meant a whole lot more than nothing. It was love, true love." He makes a kissy sound in my face. I whack him on the side of the head and send him out of the barn. But then I realize that I'm not upset because he teased me. I'm upset because he's right. I found my right romance story, and it's with the caring, empathetic, patient, and beautiful Annie Sullivan. And I can't have her, because she already belongs to my sister, Helen Keller, the killer of my romance.
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