Author's notes: Yeah, I missed a week again. I actually signed up for NaNoWriMo this year though the odds that I'll actually finish are slim to none. The good news, however, is that I finally started that in-continuity Daredevil novel I've been thinking of writing (with actual action, a mystery and, oh yeah, a plot!). I'm also writing some DD for the Theatrical Muse community on LJ, as of two weeks ago, so check out my Matt Murdock character at mmmurdock(dot)livejournal(dot)com!
Chapter 21
Matt had a lunch date of sorts with Adam, the blind whiz kid who obviously liked computers enough to actually major in computer science. Matt couldn't really think of anything that lay further from his own interests, but the guy had sounded normal enough on the phone. Maybe he should try to put aside his pre-conceived notions about those who were more tech savvy than he was. Not that he wasn't reasonably good with his hands, or at figuring out how things worked. It was just that, as far as computers went, it was like deliberately looking for something that was hard to do when there were so many other things that were easy.
Normally, Matt would have felt a little worried about meeting someone he'd never met before in a public place. If he didn't have a scent or a specific sound to go on, it was difficult to pick someone out in a crowd. After all, he didn't respond well to descriptions of the "I'm the blond guy in the red shirt" variety. Picking out another white cane user would be a breeze by comparison since it was a sound he knew all too well. Oddly enough, he'd never particularly minded it. In fact, most rhythmical and predictable sounds were quite soothing. And, if it weren't for the obvious gawk factor, he didn't really mind the cane itself either. Though he very rarely actually needed it for mobility purposes, it was a little bit like having a very long extra finger that could be used to touch things, and even get information that was hard to come by otherwise, such as changes in texture.
When Adam came around the corner, the sound of his cane wasn't what gave him away. He was talking to someone else, and Matt recognized his voice from the previous evening. The person Adam was with must have spotted him, because the two of them quickly headed over to where he was standing.
"Hey, I guess you're Matt." Adam quickly found Matt's hand and shook it.
"Yeah, that's me." Matt said it almost apologetically. He did feel awkward pulling this guy out of whatever his regular routine was so he could pick his brain for a half hour.
"I'm Adam, obviously. And, this is Brian. He's the singer in our band."
"S'up?" Brian said, going for cool and jaded.
"You have a band?" Matt tried not to sound too surprised, but that revelation was certainly not what he had expected.
"Yeah, I play the bass guitar. It's just us and a couple of other guys. We've played at some clubs and stuff."
"What kind of music do you play?" If Matt had been able to see, maybe their wardrobe would have given them away, but nothing else did.
"Well, it's sort of like a cross between Alice in Chains and Pearl Jam," Adam said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, but it's totally not, like, derivative or anything. We have this totally unique sound. You should come check us out," Brian added, obviously not comfortable with Adam's comparison.
"Well, yeah, we're definitely fresh. Though Brian's got this freaky Eddie Vedder voice that's just awesome."
"Who?" The name was familiar, but Matt couldn't place it.
"Uh, the lead singer from Pearl Jam…?" Adam said, sounding almost as if Matt had just revealed that he'd never heard of George Washington.
"Oh, right…"
"Hey, sorry about if that came out the wrong way, we're just really into the alternative scene. I forget that not everyone is, you know."
"No, that's… okay. But sure, I'd like to hear you play some time." Matt wondered if listening from outside whatever club they were playing at would be good enough. Being under twenty-one wasn't the only reason he didn't go to those places.
"Well, I gotta run. Later, Ads" Brian rushed off and left the two of them standing outside the computer lab.
"So, you want to go inside?" Adam asked.
"Yeah. Thanks for doing this by the way. I hate having to ask, but I'm in kind of in a tight spot here." Matt followed Adam through the door to the back of the room where the lone accessible computer was set up.
"Really, it's not a problem. Besides, you're probably better off asking me than some sightie who doesn't have a clue, right? Oh, and I say that respectfully," Adam said jokingly. "No, 'effing' clue."
Matt could sense Adam's exact location when he went to sit down, and pulled out the chair next to his. "Yeah, I guess so." He could hear the power button on the computer being pushed, and Adam bent down to get something out of his bag.
"So, here's the manual. That's the Braille version. I'm sure there's an audio version out there somewhere, but I hope this is okay."
"Thanks, this is great." Matt was relieved to get his hands on some solid information.
"Borrow it for as long as you need to, and I'll just show you the basics okay?" Adam was still waiting for the computer to start up. "So, I take it you've met Gina?"
"Yeah, she seems okay."
"Oh, yeah, Gina's cool. She handles all the VI students, so I just assumed."
"How many are there?" Matt hadn't really considered whether or not he was the only one until he'd been advised to call Adam.
"Well, we don't have like a secret club or anything so I'm not sure, but I think there's a handful of 'partials' and then there's me. And now you, I guess."
"Yeah, well it's lights out over here, so…" Matt figured that at least this guy would be offended by an innocent joke.
"Me too. Well, technically, I've got light projection on the left side, but that's not much to call home about. But hey, I'm not complaining."
"Were you born blind?" Matt didn't want to pester Adam with the same kinds of question people used to bug him with, but he was curious.
"Sort of. I was a preemie. You?"
"No. I had an accident about four years ago."
"Holy shit!"
"What?" Matt hadn't anticipated Adam's stunned reaction.
"Man, that's gotta be rough."
"You're going to feel bad for me too?"
"No… no, I'm just saying. I've never known any different, that's all. I'm just assuming it's gotta suck to have it and lose it, you know?"
"Yeah. It did. I got used to it."
"Okay… Well let's get this going. What kind of computer have you used before?"
"I don't know, some old PC."
"Well, welcome to the 90's. From here on out, it's all about GUIs."
"What's a 'gooey'?"
"That's just how you say it. It stands for graphical user interface. The sighties love that shit. Not that it's new or anything, Apple's been doing it for years. I'm just going to assume you've heard of the Macintosh." From the sound of it, Adam wasn't sure he had.
"Yeah, I have." Matt said, not hiding his annoyance. He did know a thing or two even though it was mostly abstract. Where he grew up, people didn't have computers in the home, and he'd never actually seen a Macintosh back when he still could, though he was vaguely aware that the landscape was changing.
"Anyway, it's not just text anymore, it's a bunch of icons you click on. And drop-down menus and stuff like that."
"I've sort of heard about that."
"Okay, well it's a major pain in the ass if you ask me. The nice thing about it is that you can have more than one application open at the same time, but that's about it. Accessibility on these things is still crap, but apparently this school decided to upgrade everything so all the DOS computers went out the window. I'd even suggest asking them if they have any of those older things around. I have my own stuff, I wouldn't normally bother with this thing right here." Adam patted the side of the monitor.
"So, what do I do?" Matt was wondering how any of this was going to be helpful at all.
"Hey, I didn't say you couldn't get this baby to work. These computers are all running Windows 3.0, and there's software that just came out this spring that does work, especially if you just want to use it write a paper or whatever. Now, the bad news is that if you're just used to DOS, you're going to have to relearn everything."
"Well, that's just great. Damn, I hate computers."
"Don't say that. They can sense your fear," Adam joked. "But yeah, the eighties were gold. The way things are going right now, the market is changing really fast and we're getting seriously screwed. But, I'm sure it'll get better eventually."
"When do think that will be?"
"I don't know, but it's all ones and zeros really, when you think about it. I guess that's why I like doing this stuff. It looks chaotic on the surface, but there's this really neat simplicity underneath, you know?"
"Yeah, I guess I can sort of get that."
"So what do you wanna be when you 'grow up'?
"I'm gonna be a lawyer."
"Nice. I already know a future doctor, can I add you to my list of useful people to know?"
"Sure. But law school feels really far away at the moment. I guess I'm going to have to get this thing to spit out my first paper before I start thinking about that."
"You'll be fine. And, you're going to love it here, I promise. You made it this far, right?"
"You mean I survived my first day?"
"No, I meant getting into a high-ranked university. Obviously."
"Right." Matt hesitated for a moment. "Can I ask you something?"
"What is this? A heart to heart?" Adam bit his tongue when Matt went quiet. "Sorry, I'm being a jerk. What's on your mind?"
"Don't you ever get tired of, I don't know, people just being idiots?"
"Yeah, sure. But what are you going to do about it? Some people aren't, some show some kind of potential for actual intelligence, and the rest you ignore and then laugh behind their backs."
"I just don't like dealing with it, you know?"
"What, people? It's pretty unavoidable. And the thing is, people can go through their whole lives and never talk to a blind person. There's a reason most of them are completely clueless. Then there are the people who are beyond stupid, and those are just sort of funny. Well, unless they happen to be in charge of hiring you or something."
"You know, I really try to find the humor in people talking really loud and all that, and it's not that hard. But it's everyone being uncomfortable that's just… I don't know what it is, but it's not funny."
"Okay, I get that this is probably harder for you since you used to be 'normal' and all that, but you need to get over it. Come up with a strategy or something because there's no way around it. And if you're not comfortable or whatever, just fake it 'til you make it."
"Fake it?"
"Unless you're cool with who you are and stuff and then you don't have to. Are you?"
"I don't know." It always came back to the same thing. Who the hell are you, Matt Murdock? Matt still didn't have an answer. The more he kept thinking about it, the more it eluded him. For a second he wondered what Adam, who didn't have any special gifts, would think of him if he knew the truth. Would he consider him a fraud, an insult to all the blind people out there who didn't have any heightened senses and who couldn't feel where things were?
"I thought you said you were."
"Yeah, I know what I said. What I meant was that I'm… I guess the word would be 'independent'."
"Right, so you can get across town, you just don't like how people look at you?"
"Sort of. But it's more like I don't like having to ask for things. I don't like being an inconvenience. I mean, I'm sorry I had to ask you to come down here and do this. I'm sure you have better things to do."
"Yeah, it's an inconvenience. But I really don't mind. Most people don't. Seriously. The only one who has a problem with it is you apparently. I know something you don't, and I'm helping you out because I can. Sighted people can see stuff we can't. Some of that stuff is sort of good to know. It doesn't mean anything. I'm not better than you just because you don't know the difference between an Atari and a typewriter."
"Geez, thanks…"
"The way I see it, sighties are like these really accessible information kiosks. I do whatever I can, and I do it really well. But if I need to ask for something, I'm going to. If you're not going to do that, it's not fucking independence, it's just stupid."
"I see your point."
"Do you? Because if you're only going to do things where you're guaranteed never to have to ask for help with anything, then… Well, it's stupid, okay?"
"I never thought about it that way."
"Now, how about we get to work on your paper? This I'll do for free, but the therapy is five bucks an hour."
"Okay, deal." Matt smiled, oddly relieved that Adam wouldn't put up with his bullshit. Because, he was starting to see it for what it was.
ooOoo
Foggy tried to read the first chapter of the book on American government, but it was really hard to get into it. He kept glancing over at Matt who was busy doing the same thing by very different means. Finally, he had to stop what he was doing and just watch. "That just looks incredibly cool."
"Really?" Matt wasn't really surprised; people always seemed curious about Braille. He stopped what he was doing and reached for another of Aunt Grace's cookies. They were getting a little stale, but still tasted good.
"Can I touch it?" Foggy reached for the page nearest to him when Matt pushed the book over in his direction.
"Sure, knock yourself out."
"I just don't get how you can do it that fast." He felt the line at the top of the page, and it was hard to imagine how the encoded information could be picked up that quickly.
"Well, it was sort of like learning to read the first time. In the beginning, you have to do it one letter at a time, and then you start to recognize the shape of whole words and with enough practice, you just get the hang of it."
"It's still pretty cool."
"I guess it's a pretty decent party trick. The annoying thing is that you can't really do anything else at the same time. Like eating." Matt popped the last piece of cookie in his mouth and wiped his hands on the napkin next to him.
"These cookies are really good. Your aunt made them?"
"She's not really my aunt. She's this old woman who lives in my building, and everyone just calls her Aunt Grace. She sort of looks out for everyone else."
"Neat."
"She used to look after me sometimes when I was a kid and my dad was out late. She's always been like a grandmother. Her husband died in World War II and then she had a son who died as a teenager, back in the fifties. It was leukemia, I think."
"Man, are there no happy stories from Hell's Kitchen?"
"Some." Matt laughed at what Foggy must be thinking. His own life, despite his extraordinary gifts, hadn't exactly been carefree. "I hope I'll have a happy story. It's not over yet, you know."
"No, I guess not." Foggy smiled and looked at Matt who had been in a remarkably good mood all afternoon. Then it hit him again, as it had from time to time since their first encounter; the magnitude of what Matt had gone through and how it had to affect everything he did. Foggy thought of all the things they'd done over the last few days and how Matt had been around for all of it, yet seen none of it. It had to be strange to live like that..
"Besides, Aunt Grace is such a fun person. I really like her a lot. You even forget sometimes that her family died and everything. But she used to have these tin soldiers around that her son made that I loved to look at when I was little. I thought it was cool that kids back then made their own toys and stuff."
"Yeah, my dad used to have those too. He never let me touch them or anything, kept them down in the basement."
"Yeah, Grace wouldn't let me touch hers either until after I had the accident. Then she gave me five of them to keep. I was too old to really be that interested then, but it was a very nice gesture. I get what she was trying to do."
Before Foggy got the chance to respond, there was a knock on the door. Foggy lit up. "You think that's her?"
"It should be. Unless you have someone coming over that I don't know about." Matt smiled and got to his feet to get the door.
"Nope. But, do you think maybe they have an adopt-a-great-looking-exchange-student program? I could go for that, do some community outreach."
"Hmm, what's your pitch going to be?"
"I could teach them English and where to find really good fast food. It's the complete American experience."
"Complete with a massive coronary." Matt opened the door, and the scent of the person on the other side hit him immediately. She smelled of Big Red chewing gum and Dove deodorant. There was also that great natural girl smell that most members of the opposite sex seemed to have. "Hey!"
"Hi! I'm Angie." Her voice was a little more upbeat than it had been on the phone. It was quite deep but still feminine, and Matt liked the sound of it. If was going to have to listen to someone reading things to him several hours a week, he wanted that someone to sound like Angie. "You must be Matt."
"Yeah," Matt smiled and put his hand out. "I bet the shades gave me away, huh?"
"Uh, no. I just…"
"Don't mind me. We were just goofing around." Matt backed out of her way and closed the door. "This is my roommate Foggy."
"Hey," Foggy said from the kitchen table, "you want a cookie?" He smiled at her and held the box out. Angie was quite average looking but had a great and rather infectious smile.
"No, that's okay. I'm trying to cut back." She patted herself on the stomach and laughed. "So," she turned around to look at Matt, "how do we do this?"
"Hm, well this is sort of my first job interview too. Have you ever done this before?"
"Been at a job interview? Yeah." There was a smile in her voice.
"I meant this job specifically."
"No, never." She shook her head and sat down on the chair that Foggy had pulled out for her. "Is that a problem?"
"No, not at all." Matt joined them at the table and folded up the book he had out. "There's not much to it really, I was just curious."
"It was Molly down the hall who tipped me off. I live downstairs but I hadn't seen the note, and we know each other from high school. So, anyway, she knew I was looking for something sort of extracurricular. That's it."
"Okay." Matt nodded, not really knowing where to start. "Well, Molly seems cool."
"Yeah, she comes off as really flaky, but she's smarter than people think."
"I'll leave you guys to it then." Foggy said, feeling a little like the fifth wheel.
"No, you stay. We'll go in the other room." Matt got back up and Angie followed him. He sat down on his own bed, and instructed his guest to take a seat on Foggy's bed before noticing that it seemed like his blankets and bedspread were all in a pile. "Did he make his bed?"
"No," Angie let out a nervous laugh. "I'll just get this chair here."
"Oops, sorry about that." Matt smiled and decided it was time to get down to business. "Well, I basically need someone to read certain things to me. I have my own books for all my classes, but as far as doing research for papers goes, I'm pretty screwed. It's the same thing with certain assignments that might be on something that's not in the book or the hand-outs."
"Okay, I think I get the idea."
"Yeah, like I said, it's pretty straight-forward. If I have to go to the library I'd also need you to help me find the right books." Matt could technically read most things fine by himself if he had to, so the information gathering was really the only thing he needed help with. On the other hand, that might not be such a small task and it was one of the things that made him a little worried about what law school might be like.
"So, I'll just meet you there then?"
"Yeah, I think that would work. I don't really know how many hours a week we're talking about here, since I've never been in college before."
"Well, I'll just try to work around your schedule."
"Another thing is that I'll probably have to hire another person too. Just in case one of you is sick or out of town."
"I understand. I was sort of guessing that might be the case anyway."
"Great. I guess we should get one of Foggy's text books so you can try reading something. I really like your voice, you know."
"Really?" Angie sounded nearly ecstatic and Matt almost blushed. He realized how that probably sounded coming from a blind guy. Maybe she thought he was hitting on her when he was really just trying to give her an honest and fairly relevant compliment.
"Yeah… Well, it's important if I'm going to listen to you for hours. Would you just grab something that looks like a text book off his shelf?"
"Okay, how about The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir?" Angie tried to sound perfectly serious, but Matt could tell she was kidding.
"Yeah, right." He laughed. "What else is up there?"
Angie laughed too. "Hey, I'm serious."
"Really?"
"No. Sorry. I'll just get this one… History of Literature. Does that sound dull enough?"
"Yeah, that sounds perfect."
"Okay," Angie opened up the book, and the first question immediately arose, "What do I do with pictures?"
"Hmm. Well, describe them if they're relevant. If not, just skip them. I trust your judgment."
"You trust my judgment?" Angie smiled at him. "I already like you better than my parents."
"I know what you mean." Matt smiled back. He liked her. She didn't seem weirded out by any of this. Being treated just like anyone else on a first meeting shouldn't have been remarkable, but it was. Sadly.
"Okay. Chapter one, the history of the written word…" Angie finished reading the first paragraph before glancing up at Matt who looked liked a president being fed the latest press briefings during a crisis. She laughed and stopped. "How was that?"
"That's great, but you can go faster if you want. I've got quick ears." Matt paused. "What's so funny?"
"I'm sorry, you just looked really serious, like I was telling you bad news or something."
"Well, I guess that's just me listening intently." Matt blushed. "If this was for real, I'd probably be taking notes while you're reading. And I hope it's okay if I tape you?"
"Sure. As long as I don't have to listen to it, you can tape me all you want." Angie hesitated for a moment. "So, do I get the job?"
"Yeah, consider yourself hired."
"Awesome! Now what? I guess you need my number, huh? And do you want to set up a time?"
"Okay, one thing at a time." Matt smiled at her enthusiasm. The pay wasn't much but Angie acted like she'd just landed her dream job. "First, I'll get your number." He walked over to his desk and sat down on the chair and pulled out an index card, put it in the slate and got ready to punch in the dots. "Whenever you're ready."
"Uh, 355-2903." Angie craned her neck to see what he was doing. "Okay, call me stupid, but I had no idea you could write Braille like that."
"I didn't use to know either so don't feel bad."
"Okay, I won't."
"Alright, I guess that's it. How about if I call you tomorrow after class? We don't have too much going on yet."
"Sure, that's fine." Angie went for the door. Foggy was lying on the couch and immediately sat up to brush a couple of cookie crumbs off his shirt.
"How did you do?" Foggy asked. He wouldn't have asked if he hadn't been completely sure.
"I passed," she said jokingly.
"Good for you. He runs a pretty tight ship you know."
"I bet he does." Angie laughed and turned around when Matt came out behind her.
"Are you guys talking about me?"
"Yeah, I think he's trying to scare me off," Angie said.
"But I'm so nice," Matt smiled in Angie's direction. "But you'll find that out."
"I'm sure I will. Bye, you guys."
Foggy waited for Angie to close the door. "We should ask her to go bowling with us."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, it's the only sport I'm reasonably good at, and I thought we could ask her to bring Molly."
"Wait, who are you and what happened to Foggy?"
"No, I'm still me. You would have to ask."
"Uh huh."
"If I asked, they would never go."
"Don't you think they'd be more suspicious of a blind guy asking them to go bowling?"
"No, they'd be intrigued to find out how you do it. Speaking of which, how do you do it?"
"I never said I did it well, remember?"
"So you'll ask?"
"Sure, what the hell. Bowling huh?"