A Good Memory of a Blind Kid in Chicago - Writers Forum

mybluehell · 08-31-2007, 11:41 PM

I remember that kid in the subway, maybe about a year ago now.

I distinctly remember feeling absolutely helpless, like he must have felt. I think I had a lot more empathy then.

After having just left my then-girlfriend’s office building, we had just gotten some lunch; I walked the half a block to the subway station. I slipped the pass into the electronic card reader on the turnstile, and saw the kid with his wand, or cane, or whatever they call it.

I knew immediately he was blind, even though he didn’t have the glasses we normally associate with blind people. I could see his eyes clearly.

I was just about to get on the escalator, down to the waiting platform, when I heard a loud smack. Bone on metal. It made me cringe. I still remember that vividly.

Turning to see what had made the sound, I saw him with this awfully painful face, rubbing his forehead vigorously, standing in front of the metal arch of the turnstile. Even though I knew I had to catch the train, I ran up the few steps of the escalator, pushing past a couple people, and fighting against the opposing direction of the escalator stairs.

“Hey, you alright there man?” I asked, kind of laughing, though it was a completely empathetic laugh, so he would think I was neither giving him pity nor making fun of him.

He moved his head to find me for a moment, and then caught where I was in front of him and told me he was okay.

“I’m trying to find the social security office, no one will help me.” He was still lightly rubbing his forehead.

“Oh, well why are you getting back on the train? It’s just a few blocks away.’

“Shit! Really? Some guy told me I had the wrong stop. People are so mean in this city.”

I looked him in the eyes, wondering if he could see me at all, since he seemed to have some vague recognition of my location. He was about my age, and I couldn’t help but feel horrible. I always do around people with disabilities, but this guy especially. He was skinny, about my height, and had blond hair that looked like it was reasonably well taken care of.

“Yea, this city is notorious for having a plethora of assholes.” I was going through the directions in my head, trying to figure out how to explain it to him. Then I heard the train I was supposed to catch approaching in the tunnel below.

“Hey, I’ll take you there. It’s not hard at all.”

“Oh thanks man. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was headed that direction anyway.”

So I helped him up the stairs, almost two flights, then out into the great open of downtown Chicago.

“Hey, do you mind if I grab on to your arm? It makes this a lot easier.”

“No…go for it.” I tensed up a bit at the idea, but then relaxed.

I could only imagine what it must be like in such a place for someone who is blind. So much stimulus, but you can’t see any of it. So many cars, smells, sounds, people, rushes of air from around every corner, but no sight to put it all together.

“So, if you don’t mind my asking, have you always been blind…or…” me with my foot in my mouth.

“No not at all. It only started happening about two years ago. I can still see light, but that’s all it is. Just blotches of light. Sometimes I can see a faint glimpse of a face, or object, but I wonder if it’s just my mind playing tricks on me.”

“Wow, I can’t even imagine.”

“It’s not all bad. You learn to get used to it.”

“I guess you’d have to, huh?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

I introduced myself to him, grabbing his free hand and shaking it as we walked along the busy sidewalk. He seemed a bit stunned at first, but then relaxed and shook back. Although even then it seemed unnecessary, since he was firmly holding my other arm anyway.

We got to the Social Security building where two security guards informed us, rather rudely, that we had just missed the closing and that we’d have to come back on Monday, since Friday was a holiday.

Leaving the building, “It’s okay. I think I can remember how to get there from the subway now.”

So we walked back to the subway station where I helped him avoid hitting the metal arch above the turnstile again, and we both had a laugh about it. He was just so good-natured and all around pleasant. He had a girlfriend, he informed me, who had stayed with him through all of the medical procedures he’d had to endure.

“That’s amazing. She must be really special.” I secretly wondered if he remembered what she looked like. I wondered what it was that caused his blindness, but decided not to ask.

It occurred to me that it could easily be me in that position. With all the idiotic and haphazardous things I’d done in my life, I sincerely believed that it could have been me.

So I sat with him for a while, then ran out of things to talk about. It was growing increasingly uncomfortable for me. Not because I cared at all about the people around us, but more because I felt so horrible for wanting to ask all these questions I knew I shouldn’t ask.

“Well, hey man, I think this is my stop coming up here. Are you going to be alright? You know what stop you’re supposed to get off of right?”

“Huh? Oh, yea. I’ll be fine. Thanks again for your help.”

“Yea, don’t mention it,” me feeling like an ass.

In truth my stop was still about five stations away, and his was even further. But I moved to another seat not too far away from his. And I just watched him for a bit. His head was bowed like he was looking at the ground, but I imagine it was so people wouldn’t see his eyes. He had his cane folded up neatly on his lap, and he just swayed with the rest of us on the train.

That feeling came over me again, that rush of “this-could-be-me”. As uncomfortable as it made me to sit with him, nothing to say, it made me feel even worse having lied to him for no good reason. We could both certainly use some friendly conversation on this ride.

“Hey, sorry man. I guess I spaced out and thought that was my station. Where is it you said you were going?”

“Forest Park.”

“Oh no kidding. I’m going to Oak Park, that’s only one stop short of yours. Mind if I sit back down?”

“No, no, please do.” He rearranged his cane so the seat next to him was clear and I could sit.

I told all of this to my girlfriend later, who seemed pretty impressed with me, but I wasn't looking for kudos. I wasn't looking for anything. That kid was just really inspirational to me in a lot of ways. But I forgot all about it until just recently. Now it's nice to have it written down so I won't forget.