Chapter 2

Lynn Sr. spat out his drink in shock, then asked, "Wh-why do you wanna do that, son?"

"Because as much as I hate to admit it, Dad, my home life is getting boring. I do the same routine every day that I've done for at least the last two years. I want to get out and see the world, figuratively of course, and do things to spice up my life a little," Lincoln said. "Don't get me wrong, you guys and Clyde are all great company, but I can't keep living my life in the safe zone. I need an adventure or two to stay sane." Lincoln's sensitive ears, honed from years of being used in place of his eyes, were met with no sound but the TV that was still on, which told him that his parents were thinking hard, most likely using the rumored husband-wife telepathy to discuss the options.

"If that's the way you really feel, sweetie, I don't have a problem with it. Just be aware that making accommodations for a disability like yours takes time," Rita finally said.

Lincoln smiled and said, "Thanks, guys. You won't regret it!" He walked around the couch and gave his parents a hug, then made his way upstairs, where the bedrooms of himself and his sisters were, to tell them the good news. He didn't need his cane for this, because he knew his house like the back of his hand (if he could see the back of his hand). His sisters were waiting for him at the top of the stairs, all ten of them, with bated breath.

"Well? What did they say?" Lori asked. Lincoln had confessed his boredom with his home life to his sisters and grandfather first, and it was his older sister Lynn Jr. who suggested he ask their parents to go to public school.

"They said yes! I'm going to school!" Lincoln declared, and his sisters all cheered.

"Excellent. The next step is to make sure that your potential educators are warned about your predicament well in advance," stated Lisa.

"Yeah, Mom said something like that. And I won't mind if they're not completely prepared. It'll just make things more exciting for me!" Lincoln said.

"That's the spirit, boy-o!" said Albert, walking up the stairs after arriving home from his job as a mechanic/boat repairman.

"Hi, Pop-Pop!" all ten of his grandchildren greeted (not counting Lily, the youngest, who was only just starting to talk).

"Hey, kids! If you'd be so kind as to let me slip past you, I need a quick shower before supper," he greeted in return, towel and spare clothes in hand as he walked to the bathroom.

"I think I'm gonna help Dad cook. Any of you girls want to join me?" Lincoln asked. It was startling how many skills he managed to pick up over the years; he knew his way around the house well enough that he could cook and do most chores unassisted, and if his other senses failed him, he could echolocate with relative ease. He insisted on learning these skills because he knew as well as everyone else that he couldn't rely on his family forever. Sooner or later (hopefully later), he would have to fend for himself in the cruel, unforgiving world.

With most of the girls having homework to do, they all politely declined. With a shrug, Lincoln walked downstairs to the kitchen, where he could hear both his father whistling and a large pot of water coming to a boil. He could also smell the different ingredients and seasonings Lynn Sr. had prepared, and unless his nose was fooling him, his dad was planning some sort of Italian dish. Chicken and tomatoes seemed to be the main ingredients, as well as breadcrumbs, salt and pepper, cheese, and various herbs.

"What are we making tonight, Dad?" he asked.

"Chicken Parmesan over Fettucine," Lynn Sr. replied. "Just a recipe I picked up from a friend of mine. Would you like to bread the chicken and fry it while I whip up the tomato sauce?"

"Sure, Dad, no problem." Lincoln heated up some oil in a skillet, then scrambled two eggs in a bowl. Dipping each piece of raw chicken in the eggs, he coated them on both sides in a mixture of breadcrumbs, Italian herbs, and grated Parmesan cheese and fried them in the oil. He was able to smell when the chicken was done cooking on one side, so he could flip each piece before it burned. He alerted his dad when the chicken was done, and Lynn Sr. poured his prepared sauce in with the chicken. Father and son then covered the skillet and let the whole dish simmer while the pasta drained in a colander in the sink.

When everyone came downstairs for dinner, they thanked Lynn Sr. and Lincoln for the meal. With full bellies and their homework finished, everyone went to bed ready for whatever the coming days would bring.

...

Surprisingly, it only took a week to get Lincoln's accommodations sorted out, so Lincoln could start attending sooner than he thought. Clyde was excited when he heard how his best friend would be attending the same school as him, and he was the one who insisted on meeting Lincoln at the door on his first day. He was a bespectacled African-American boy (not that it mattered to Lincoln), and the two boys were exactly the same height, though Lincoln was slightly leaner and more muscular. The kids in the hall were at least smart enough to give Lincoln a wide berth as he passed by, although his ears picked up some few and far-between rude comments.

One boy, though, got a wicked grin when he spotted Lincoln and Clyde walking together. It seemed at times that his sole purpose in life was to make the people around him miserable, and Clyde was one of his favorite victims. He waited until the pair were just passing him, then stuck his foot into the space between Lincoln's cane and his own feet.

Everyone who saw gasped as Lincoln toppled forward with a yelp, landing hard on his knees and elbows. Clyde glared at the offender as he helped Lincoln back to his feet.

"Tripping a blind guy. Even for you, that's low, Chandler," he said, shaking his head in disapproval. Chandler just chuckled.

"Oh, c'mon, McDoofus, I got tired of picking on you, so I decided to change the pace a little," he retorted. "As for you," he continued, pointing at Lincoln. "I don't know who you are, and I don't care either, but I make the rules around here, got it?"

"Does he look like he sounds?" Lincoln asked Clyde, swatting away the hand that was still brushing him off.

"Yeah, pretty much," Clyde replied.

"Listen, Chandler, was it? I know I'm new here and I'm not familiar with the social hierarchy yet, but that doesn't give you the right to push around me or anyone else. Tripping someone on purpose is bad enough, but I happen to be a person with a registered disability, which makes it ten times worse for you if one of the adults were to find out. Say, the woman I can clearly hear walking up behind you." Chandler whirled around, and sure enough, there stood Ms. Johnson, the fifth-grade homeroom teacher, scowling and tapping her foot. He attempted to explain himself to her, only to have her grab his ear and haul him to the principal's office.

Clyde guided Lincoln the rest of the way to their homeroom, Lincoln forming a map in his mind along the way. Clyde had specially requested that Lincoln's desk be placed next to his own for the blind boy's convenience.

"Hey, Lincoln, how did you know that Ms. Johnson was a woman?" Clyde asked when they sat down. Lincoln smiled.

"Oh, it's just a little skill of mine that I picked up a while back. Turns out you can tell a lot about a person based on the sounds they make when they walk. I can tell what gender they are, what kind of shoes they're wearing, even their approximate height and weight. Though I have been known to mistakenly guess the age and/or gender based on the size of the individual."

"Wow! What else can you do?"

"You'll see as time goes on," Lincoln replied with a smirk. Soon, the bell rang to signal the start of class, and students began to file into the room. Ms. Johnson joined them as well after a few minutes, huffing and puffing.

"Sorry I'm late, class. There was an incident that I had to take care of," she apologized. "Anyway, as you can see, we have a new student joining us today. Lincoln, would you like to come up and introduce yourself?"

"Sure thing, Ma'am," Lincoln said, then stood up and walked to the front of the class. Everyone got a good look at him for the first time, and some of the girls had their breaths hitch. Lincoln was an attractive fellow, with short-ish white hair that was neatly combed, a pair of stylish mirrored black sunglasses, and elf-like facial features. He wore a denim jacket, a close-fitting gray V-neck T-shirt tucked into denim jeans with a black leather belt, and black cowboy boots. The handle of his plastic red-and-white striped cane was firmly clasped in his right hand. "Hello, everyone. My name is Lincoln Loud. Those of you who don't know me personally have probably heard of the reputations of my sisters." This caused a few students to snicker or nod in understanding. "I had an unfortunate accident when I was four, and I've been totally blind ever since. Because of that, I've been homeschooled for most of my childhood. Things were getting boring with my home life, so I asked to be enrolled here for a change of scenery, for lack of a better term. If anyone has any questions, speak up, because I can't see it if you raise your hand. But please, one at a time."

"What kind of accident were you in?" asked a girl towards the back of the room.

"Ah, excellent question. You know how everyone says you shouldn't run with scissors?" Lincoln's ears picked up several replies in the affirmative. He pointed at his sunglasses and said, "This is why. I was cutting out hearts for Valentine's Day, my older sister wanted to play tag, so I took off running with the scissors in both hands. I tripped on my baby sister's rattle, and down I went. I fainted due to the pain and woke up in the hospital a week later without my vision. It took a while to recover, but now my other four senses make up for it. Any more questions?" Nobody had any more questions, so he sat back down so that Ms. Johnson could begin the day's history lesson.

The confident smile never left his face.