Sign Me Up by Dulcie Dameron

12

Parker

the office has flown by. After the trust fall disaster on Monday, Stefan locked himself in his office for two days. That was until he sent us the email about our next excursion. I really thought after what happened with Les, he’d get off this employee morale boosting thing, but it seems to have only been a hiccup.

In the email, he explained that he’d already booked this activity, and he felt as if it was safe for everyone to take part and enjoy a little time out of the office. But then he went on to tell us what we’d be doing.

I almost choked on my coffee when I read that we’ll be visiting an outdoor safari, complete with live animals. And in true Jamie fashion, as soon as she read it, she popped over to my side of the cubicle with a horrified expression. “A safari?!”

I guess it would be one thing if said field trip related to our jobs at the paper, but much like the pumpkin patch fiasco, this excursion, in no way, pertains to writing and reporting. Unless we’re going to record the eating and pooping patterns of giraffes, I’m pretty sure it’s a moot point.

Now the day of the field trip has come, and I’m starting to lose faith that these excursions will help make Jamie fall in love with me. Yes, we’ve been getting more time together, but her feelings seem all over the place when it comes to Mike and me.

It’s clear she misses having a boyfriend, but it also looks like she sees Mike as more of a prospect than me. Can she envision what a romantic relationship would be like between us? I thought we shared a few charged moments in the past few weeks, but maybe I’m just reading what I want into our interactions.

It’s hard to tell at this point.

Especially when Jamie’s head rests lazily against my shoulder as we bump along in the tour bus Stefan rented out for this little excursion.

I crane my neck to see if Jamie has dozed off, but when I look down, she turns her head toward me. For a split second, our faces are just inches apart and her warm breath fans over my neck. It sends an unexpected tremor through me, but when she feels it, she pulls way. Instantly, I regret my body’s reaction.

“Sorry,” she says as she tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear with a timid smile. “Your shoulder was just more comfortable than the window.”

Any time,I sign to her, meaning it.

Before we boarded the bus, Jamie explained that she’d been studying up on animal signs that she could practice today. I laughed it off like a joke, and she swatted my arm. I might have made light of it, but knowing she makes an extra effort to learn Sign Language warms my heart.

I’ll just have to make an effort of my own to teach her the proper signs for each animal we see today, in case her research was lacking. It’s easy for me to imagine just the two of us wandering around alone today. Me, showing her how to make signs with her hands, her speaking to me with her full, pouty lips…

An abrupt stop sends my forehead slamming into the seat in front of me. I make a face and rub the spot, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. What kind of loser embarrasses himself in front of a girl because he was daydreaming about that girl?

Jamie places both her hands on my face and turns my head toward her. “Are you okay?”

No. Not even a little bit, I think. How can I be okay when her brow puckers with such sweet concern and her hands are holding my face so tenderly?

I simply nod, because the more I think about it, the longer I stare into her eyes, the more I realize how hard it’s going to be to tell my best friend how severely she affects me. It will inevitably affect us. And do I really have the courage to blow past the line of friendship we’ve safely built over the past year?

Something or someone at the front of the bus grabs Jamie’s attention and I follow her gaze. Stefan stands, addressing everyone. He’s too far away for me to catch what he’s saying, but by his gestures, I kind of get the gist. I definitely caught the word partners and he’s holding a clipboard in his hands. Is he going to let us choose our partners again?

Jamie’s expression has fallen considerably. She looks like someone just sentenced her to an afternoon of cleaning toilets. I nudge her shoulder and try to offer her an encouraging smile.

She turns toward me with a frown. “He’s splitting us up today. We will each have an assigned partner that we’re tasked with getting to know better throughout the day.”

I’m sure my expression mimics hers as I face Stefan. He offered to have the ASL interpreter come with us today, but I insisted she not. I’m more than capable of taking in the sights and reading signage. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have a job that makes accommodations for my deafness, but sometimes it feels good to just mesh into the crowd. I don’t need someone following me around all day reminding me that I see the world through a different lens than the rest of my co-workers.

Besides, I assumed that I would get to be with Jamie all day and I have no problem staring at—I mean reading—her lips.

People around us start to stand and everyone begins to exit the bus. Jamie turns to me signing, “I’m sorry to tell you that you’re with Lucas.” Her stare goes cold as she finishes with, “And I’m with Les.”

It’s a miracle that Les is still at work with what happened earlier in the week. I would’ve thought he’d be a least a little bitter about getting accidentally beat up by our boss, but he legit returned to work the next day with a bandage on his nose and a smile on his face.

I wrap my arm around Jamie’s shoulders and give her what I hope is a bolstering squeeze before rising and following everyone else off the bus. My assigned partner isn’t my favorite person, but it could be worse. I could be stuck with Jordy, the girl who slaps my arm every five seconds to show me something or get my attention.

The only good thing about being stuck with Lucas is that I won’t feel obligated to be polite to him. And since I can’t hear him speak, I can easily tune him out by turning my head away from him.

When I make it off the bus, I wrinkle my nose at the distinct smell of animals living nearby. My partner—an unwilling partner by the looks of it—is waiting for me toward the rear of the bus with his arms crossed. He looks as excited as I am that we’re assigned to each other.

I make my way to him and raise my chin in greeting. He grimaces in response.

When I turn around to make sure Jamie is taken care of, my foot catches on something hard and I stumble, falling to my hands and knees. Lucas quickly jerks back his foot as I catch myself. The hard gravel of the parking lot digs into my palms and knees. I quickly jump to my feet and glare at the man I’m sure intended to make me look like a klutz a moment ago.

Lucas holds his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s not my fault you don’t watch where you’re going.”

Really? So that’s how this day is going to go? Perfect.

Instead of watching my feet, I’d rather watch my fist slam into Lucas’s smug face, but I also don’t want to get fired, so I refrain. Besides, my dad taught me a long time ago that violence is never the answer. I release a frustrated breath as I swipe my gravel-peppered hands on my pants legs.

A soft hand on my arm guides my attention away from my annoying partner. “Are you Okay?” Jamie asks for the second time in the last fifteen minutes.

Yes, you?

She nods and hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “Better get back to my partner.”

Let’s meet later. I turn my gaze to Les, who’s already snapping pictures of the signs in the parking lot with his smartphone like a tourist. I stifle a laugh for Jamie’s sake, then give her an affectionate chuck under the chin before walking off to join Lucas.

I’m not sure how this day is going to pan out when it’s all said and done, but I’m already over it.

One excruciatingly long hour later, I find myself not knowing a single thing more about my partner. And that’s just the way I like it.

Everything I’ve witnessed of Lucas today proves that he’s a shallow, self-centered guy who makes no qualms about ogling women. And not just overtly attractive women, either. I’m talking women of all shapes, sizes, and ages. It’s like he can’t help himself.

So, I guess I did actually learn one thing about him. His type is all types.

Thirty minutes ago, when we were in the albino alligator exhibit, I caught him trying to strike up a conversation with a young mom who had three kids in tow. Her wide eyes darted between me and Lucas, silently pleading with me to promptly remove him, which I did, much to Lucas’s dismay.

But the incident didn’t stop him from cozying up to the middle-aged staff worker at the eagle exhibit, who was sharing facts with us about the bald eagle. I couldn’t hear her giggle but judging by the way her shoulders shook and her eyes danced as Lucas sidled up to her, she soaked in his flirtations like a sponge.

Of course, my partner took it upon himself to announce to anyone who spoke directly to me that I couldn’t hear them. Each time he’d narrow his eyes my way with that infuriating smug smirk of his too. I don’t mind when a friend or family member does it if I can’t see a person who’s trying to communicate with me, but to go out of his way to tell people I can’t hear them when I’m already paying attention is annoying.

I know Lucas thinks he’s better than me because he has use of all of his senses, but I don’t care. My sensory difference has no bearing on my ability to read a situation. I’d rather have self-awareness—something that Lucas clearly lacks—any day.

I reluctantly follow Lucas into a large aviary that houses birds of all kinds, according to the sign outside, careful to put some space between us. I don’t want any of his poor, unsuspecting victims thinking that I’m with him. I wish I wasn’t.

When we enter the aviary, clusters of people mill around the space, looking up into the tree branches, eyeing the different small birds. I lift my gaze to where a cardinal sits on a branch, cocking its head from side to side as its mouth opens and closes rapidly with each chirp.

What I wouldn’t give to be able to hear the sound a bird makes.

Before I trip into a pit of melancholy, I make my way further into the aviary and see a familiar figure at the edge of one of the groups of people. Jamie.

I make my way over to where she stands, but she doesn’t see me coming. She turns toward a bird feed dispenser and places two quarters into the slot. When she turns the knob, bird seed pours into the metal cup at the bottom, and I wait as Jamie collects it into her palm.

When her hands are full, I step behind her and cover her eyes with my hands. As soon as my hands touch her face, I remember petting that sloth a while ago and hope that my hands don’t smell like a wild animal. I made sure to use hand sanitizer afterward, but still.

Jamie spins around and when she sees it’s me, her face lights up. “I knew it was you. I’m glad you found me.”

I smile wide, beyond glad I found her too. And not just here at the wildlife park, but in life. Just having her around makes everything seem better.

“Here,” she says, lifting the bird seed in her hand.

I hold my palm out, and she pours some inside. I watch, enraptured, as she lifts her hands into the air and a small bluebird lands on her palm. It feverishly pecks at the bird seed, then flits away before another small bird replaces it.

I follow Jamie’s lead and raise my own palm into the air. But instead of a bird gracefully lighting onto my hand, a disgusting squirt of grayish-white liquid plops on the center of my wrist.

I frown at the offending bird poop while Jamie tosses her head back and laughs. The way her shoulders shake sends a bittersweet feeling coursing through me. As much as I wish I could hear the chirp of a bird, I’d give almost anything to hear the sounds coming from Jamie’s beautiful mouth right now.

The sight of her this amused is so lovely it almost makes getting pooped on worth it.

Almost.

Another hour later, I’m walking up to the camels beside a beaming Lucas. Apparently, one of the staff workers in the petting zoo gave him her number and he’s floating away on cloud nine. I, on the other hand, am sweaty and irritable from having to be Lucas’s social buffer all day long.

As we approach the camels, a small group of people fills a platform to my right. When I spot Jamie and Les talking to a worker, I step closer. Jamie keeps nodding at the worker, while Les rubs his hands together like a man with an evil plan. If his shiny face wasn’t exuding boyish excitement right now, I might be a little worried.

After the worker finishes speaking, he steps toward Jamie and helps her into a saddle on the camel’s back.

What? Is she really going to…

I quickly glance around and find a sign that reads Camel Rides, $10. When I look back, Jamie’s already seated on the camel and Les is planted behind her looking happier than a kid at an amusement park. Jamie’s face, however, doesn’t hold the same excitement. In fact, she looks terrified. Her white knuckles grip the saddle horn in front of her, her body stick straight.

I step up to the railing that separates onlookers from the camel corral and whistle to get her attention. She immediately turns her head my way. I wave, offering her an encouraging thumbs-up. Her responding smile is apprehensive and she doesn’t wave back.

Just then, the camel starts ambling forward, making Jamie and Les’s bodies sway from side to side. Jamie’s eyes grow wide as she keeps a tight hold on the saddle horn. The worker leading the camel wears a carefree grin that eases the discomfort I feel from watching Jamie struggle with fear. Even though she clearly doesn’t seem to be enjoying this ride, the worker at least appears capable.

As the camel makes a turn around the paddock, Les waves an arm up in the air like he’s riding a bull. Something about the way he moves must disrupt the camel because it stumbles to one knee, forcing Jamie and Les to lurch forward.

On instinct, I jump the fence and start toward them, but quickly get detained by another park worker who I didn’t see standing off to the side. All I can spare him is a brief glance. I know he’s probably telling me to keep a safe distance from the animals, but that’s not easy when Jamie needs me.

I helplessly watch as their worker frantically tries to right the camel, but the animal struggles to remain upright. By some miracle, Jamie’s rigid body remains in the seat, even though Les is pressed up against her from behind, arms caging her in.

I can’t make out her expression from this far away, but I imagine this situation is doing a number on her anxiety. I struggle against the park worker’s hold, wishing I could be by Jamie’s side to help. When the man detaining me seems to get more upset, I pull out of his grasp and walk backward to the fence, raising my arms in surrender.

A shove against my back draws my attention away from the camel and onto Lucas. His mouth is flapping up and down while he tosses a handful of popcorn into it. He points toward where Jamie is straining to keep hold of the camel. The only word I can decipher between his obnoxious chewing is the word girlfriend.

Deciding to ignore him, I turn back to see if the worker was able to help Jamie and Les. My chest constricts as the scene with Jamie takes a frightening turn. The worker, still trying to pull the camel upright, yanks too hard and Jamie loses her grip and tumbles forward.

Without thinking, I bolt past the worker who kept me back a minute ago and rush toward her. She rolls on the ground as Les hangs on the back of the camel for dear life.

When I get to her, I gently shift her onto her back and take in her dirt-covered face. I quickly run my hands along her body taking a mental assessment of her legs and arms, assuring myself that nothing is broken. She meets my eyes with an intensity I’ve never before seen on her beautiful face.

With shaky hands, I quickly sign, You OK?

She nods and reaches for me. By the time I’ve righted her, Les has safely made it to the ground while a worker leads the uninjured camel away.

I wrap my arm around Jamie and steer her back toward the railing when another worker rushes up to us. Jamie waves him off, but I know better than to think she’s unaffected by what just happened.

It shook her, I can tell. She’s quivering in my arms and leaning her body into mine like she’s depending on me to hold her upright.

When we reach the gate next to the platform, the rest of our work group has assembled to check on Jamie and Les. I loosen my hold as people crowd her, asking if she’s okay. At least, I assume that’s what they’re asking. Most of their mouths are moving so fast, it’s hard for me to keep up. I ease away from everyone and stand back.

I need to make sure she’s not more injured than she’s letting on. But before I get my chance, a woman who looks like the park manager approaches with Stefan and a man holding a medic bag. They direct Jamie to a nearby bench and look her over.

While the medic checks all of Jamie’s vital signs, Jordy scoots in beside her and holds up her phone screen for Jamie to see. Her face drains of all color as her lips part before her hand flies to the bridge of her nose, pinching it tight. I can only guess what Jordy’s showing her, but if it’s what I think it is, it’s not going to be good for Jamie.

After she’s been thoroughly checked, she makes her way to me with a sickened expression. “She got the whole thing on camera, Parker.”

Are you OK, though?I ask. No injuries?

She grabs my shoulders, giving me a shake. “No, I’m not okay. Didn’t you hear what I just said? Jordy recorded my very public, very embarrassing brush with death. My camel debacle. My fall from grace. The single most humiliating moment of my life. Yes, I’m injured. My pride will never again be intact.” Her head falls into her hands, and she shakes it back and forth.

I place my hand on her shoulder and squeeze. She peeks up at me and I sign, Did Jordy also record my rescue? I’m hoping to ease her anxiety with a little humor. I can only pray it works.

She flashes me a small smile and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I suppose she did. Lucky you.” She pokes me in the chest. “In your fifteen minutes of fame, you get to look like a real-life Clark Kent. Pretty soon, we’ll have lines of ladies waiting outside the Gazette wanting the handsome Parker’s autograph.”

Her little lecture does nothing to stop the grin as wide the Ohio River from spreading across my face.

Jamie thinks I’m handsome.