Together: A Novel Of Shared Vision Part 12

"Nervous?" she said. "I understand. But, Brenden, I promise you can trust me. Nothing will happen up here, except maybe you'll fall down, and that's not so bad."

"Okay," Brenden said, taking a deep breath, "let's try again."

This time when he pushed off and his speed increased, the memory of all his years flying down mountains began to filter back.

"Your first turn will be left, Brenden," Kat called. "Ready? And turn. Now I'm going to get you into a rhythm. And turn.

And turn. And turn. Traverse the mountain. Traverse the mountain. Stay in that direction. Come up a little bit toward me. Good. There's a little b.u.mp coming. Feel it with your knees. And turn. And turn."

Brenden let out a whoop of joy as the two young people began to float down the mountain.

Five turns later, Kat said, "Okay, Brenden, it's clear. You're on your own. Ski, Brenden. Ski!"

The powerful young man leaped forward, his speed doubling, maybe even tripling. His turns were perfect as he felt the fall line of the mountain flowing under his feet.

Now it was Kat's turn to be excited.

"That's awesome, Brenden. Awesome. I'm right here. Right on the back of your skis. Go. Go. Go."

And he did. For the first time since his accident, Brenden was truly at one with his body, even freer than when he held Nelson's harness. This was independence, he thought, and yet the girl was back there, and they were sharing it, and she-she was wonderful.

"We're near the bottom now," Kat called. "I'm coming up on your left. Put your hand out, and I'll catch it."

Brenden s.h.i.+fted both poles into his right hand and with his left arm extended caught Kat's arm, and they seamlessly glided toward the chair lift. Arriving in the line, Brenden couldn't help himself. He took Kat in his arms and kissed her on the cheek.

"Thank you," he said, meaning it. "Thank you so much. I feel alive again."

His throat was tight. His eyes were full. As they got on the chair for the next ride up, the girl let him pull himself together.

Eventually she said quietly, "Brenden, I want you to know something. That's the greatest moment I've had since I came to Winter Park. Watching you, being involved with you today, makes me understand why I want to be a teacher, except that I don't feel like I was teaching you. I feel like-"

"We were sharing?" Brenden said.

"Yes," Kat said. And knowing that it was extremely unprofessional, she took his hand and squeezed it.

They came down at the end of the day, exhilarated, to find Mr. and Mrs. Barnes luxuriating in front of a fire in the lodge with some kind of hot chocolate and schnapps.

"The drink of skiers," Barnes said. "European, but it works just as well on those of us of African descent. Have one. How'd ya do?"

The big man could hear Brenden smile. "Kat was awesome," he said.

The girl interrupted. "Hey, you weren't too bad yourself, pal."

Now Brenden turned his smile on her. "No," he said, "we were awesome."

After drinks it was time to head home.

"Will you be back again, Brenden?" Kathleen asked, her tone sounding hopeful.

"I'll be back," he said, "even if I have to walk."

On the ride home, Brenden was quiet, trying to understand what had just happened to him. He had experienced freedom, and yet much like his work with Nelson, he had enjoyed this affirmation because of a relations.h.i.+p with a mountain G.o.ddess named Kathleen.

He was surprised that he felt no guilt over his lack of feelings for Lindsey. But then why should he? That was over. What he had just experienced made him know that life held promise and limitless possibilities.

chapter nineteen.

For the first time in his life, the big dog was completely fulfilled: purposeful in his work, joyous in his play, and bonded with a love for his new master that had no bounds and grew with every pa.s.sing day. Brenden and Nelson were on a new and exciting adventure, and the dog greeted every experience with the same thought: What are we going to do now?

Brenden took Counselor Barnes's advice and continued his interns.h.i.+p at St. Joseph Hospital with the goal of becoming a clinical psychiatrist. He wasn't sure what area interested him. Maybe working with kids. Maybe with disabled people. Maybe as a therapist. But he knew that his life made him empathetic to those with problems they believed they could not overcome.

Charlie and his mother, working separately, investigated areas all around the medical center where Brenden could set up housekeeping. They decided that what was most important to the new team was to be able not only to navigate the hospital halls comfortably but also to live in a neighborhood setting that would allow them access to everything they needed to be independent.

When Brenden thought about how far he had come over the last few months, he was amazed. He had gone from considering ending his life to now beginning to celebrate the possibilities of a future so full of promise it was simply breathtaking. And what were the important factors in bringing him to this place? First and foremost, he knew with absolute certainty, he had gotten here because of Nelson. The dog was flawless in his work, and his commitment and companions.h.i.+p gave Brenden the confidence to believe that anything was possible.

Brenden constantly heard doctors and patients alike commenting on the beautiful animal, and he was delighted to notice that most of the comments came from female interns that he was learning to size up according to their voices. He found that blondes tended to speak in higher pitches than brunettes. Height was easy to determine according to the angle of the sound. He was delighted to find that he could hear a smile.

"That's right," he told his mother. "A smile has a sound."

He was amazed at how much he could determine about a girl's physical attributes. Girls with long hair tended to shake their heads often to get their flowing tresses out of their faces.

Voluptuous women, he noted, tended to sit forward or be slightly round-shouldered because as little girls they were probably embarra.s.sed by their early development. He could identify the leggy ladies because he could hear the sound of them frequently crossing and uncrossing attractive gams. And he could pick out any girl who was an athlete just by the way she walked.

As he worked with Nelson, he came to understand that his senses were becoming wondrously alive. The potpourri of smells that he now took in on a regular basis was unlimited and actually helped him to discern how far he was from one of his favorite eateries. As for food, his taste buds were sharpening every day. If he didn't make it as a clinician, he probably would have a future as a successful chef. Now that was an interesting picture.

Had his hearing actually become more acute? He decided it had not, but he was turning up his potential to listen to everything. A new consciousness was developing in Brenden, and he liked it. He now did not live his life on just one sensory level. Oh sure, he still missed his sight, and certainly the memories of things like color and people's faces were beginning to dim. But his sensory capacity was turning on and tuning up, allowing him to use all of his newfound abilities to their utmost.

Life was exciting again, made possible by his newfound awareness and by the confidence of his best friend-a black Labrador retriever with remarkable intelligence, total commitment, and a spirit for living that touched Brenden's heart every time he put on the harness.

Brenden was once again engaged in learning, and this pursuit of knowledge and a new establishment of purpose placed him on the same track as the dog beside him every step of the way.

"We're both growing up," he told the animal, scratching him in his favorite spot just behind the ears. "We're pretty lucky to have found each other, boy."

The dog must have agreed, because he raised his head and placed it on the man's knee.

There was a bus stop outside Brenden's apartment, and it was easy for him to take the bus north to Cherry Creek Mall for any major shopping he had to do, or to his mother's house for a home-cooked meal, something every starving student needed once in a while just to keep body and soul together.

Nelson loved those journeys because he got to play with Gus, now his best canine friend. Brenden and Mora could tell how much the two animals missed each other because whenever they got together it was party time. They would often lie head-to-head, their noses touching.

When he wasn't on rotation in the hospital, Brenden could be found on the corner of Evans and University at a great bar called Pete's University Cafe. This required Nelson to make a rather difficult angle-crossing busy University to the far corner-but once the dog understood that Pete's was where his master wanted to go, the rest was easy. Nelson was in his glory, and Brenden was once again engaged in an independent life.

When Brenden looked for an apartment, the most important element, besides access to St. Joseph Hospital, was to have an area where Nelson could enjoy just being a dog. Good fortune found them an apartment right next to Observatory Park, one of Denver's most beautifully pristine areas. From their home on the corner of South Columbine and Warren, the pair walked east on Warren for two blocks, which led them right into the park. Brenden had become adept at cleaning up after his friend, and he felt a certain sense of satisfaction knowing that even in this most basic function, the team was complying with city rules and the environment. The dog loved it when his master brought a tennis ball along at quiet times and broke the rules a little, relieving the dog of his leash and harness and playing a spirited game of pitch-and-catch. Brenden figured that everyone who had a dog did it. And anyway, he thought, Nelson deserves a little exercise and freedom just as I do.

Brenden was indeed exercising his own need for freedom not just in his daily routines but also on weekend adventures, when he and Nelson took the train to Winter Park on Sat.u.r.day mornings so he could ski with Kat Collins.

Each week Kat picked them up at the train and then dropped Nelson off at the kennel, where he stayed while they skied.

Brenden could always read Nelson's vibrations whenever he encountered new people. The young man found himself looking to his friend for reactions with every acquaintance they made, as it became clear that the dog's instincts about human beings were better than his own.

Dogs can always tell when people really like them, and it was more than clear to Brenden that Nelson loved Kat. He had never seen Nelson behave more ecstatically toward anyone other than him. And to his delight, the girl responded in kind. Each week they dealt fifteen minutes into the schedule so that Kat and Nelson could have an elaborate greeting and a little one-on-one time. The energetic black dog would melt under the firm but gentle hands as she scratched his chest and murmured sweet nothings into his soft ears.

Something was developing between Kat and Brenden as well. He felt it every time they were together. Their conversations flowed easily. They laughed at the same things, took an interest in everything the other did, shared the physical experience of skiing, and, as in his relations.h.i.+p with Nelson, bonded in the excellence of their team process.

They had not crossed the line between student and teacher. Not yet. Why was he hesitant? Brenden wasn't sure. It might be carryover from his relations.h.i.+p with Lindsey. Lindsey broke his heart, but with this young woman, with Kathleen Collins, he felt that such a thing would never happen. There was something so good, honest, and true about her. So why hadn't he asked her out? Put the moves on? Taken a chance? He decided it was because she might turn him down, and he wasn't ready to accept that kind of rejection. Not yet.

It was Tuesday, and Brenden sat on the end stool in Pete's Bar with Nelson safely tucked in against the wall. Her distinctive perfume told him she was there before the touch on his shoulder and her nervous, "Hi, Brenden. It's-"

"Hi, Lindsey," he said before she could get her name out.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

"It's a free country," he said.

The young woman gracefully climbed up next to him, her hand automatically taking his in that old familiar way that never failed to send charges of excitement pulsing through his body. He didn't remove his hand from hers, but he immediately registered that much had changed. The feeling wasn't the same. Time and a broken heart anesthetized him to her charms, or was it something else that had done it?

Lindsey ordered a beer and he heard her take a long pull. "So how have you been, Brenden?"

"You mean how have I adjusted since I walked in on you?"

"Brenden, I tried to tell you that didn't mean anything. He didn't mean anything. It was just something that happened."

"You know what I've learned over these months spent in the dark, Lindsey? I've learned that you can be blind to a lot of things, to who people really are, unless you take a real good look. I've figured out that you're not a bad person, and I know you didn't mean to hurt me. You're just self-absorbed. Actually, I don't think you're capable of sharing love with anyone unless everything is on your terms."

"Wow," the girl said, her tone changing. "That's pretty tough, Brenden. What right do you have to judge me like that? You weren't the only one who had to accept the fact that you were blind. It was tough on everybody-your mother, Charlie, me, everyone who loves you."

"Stop it, Lindsey," Brenden said, pulling his hand away. "You never really loved me. You loved the idea of me, who you thought I was going to be. And when life changed, you couldn't accept who I had become. Your boy toy was broken, so you decided to throw him away rather than try to fix him. Isn't that about it?"

The girl struggled to regain her dignity. "You know what, Brenden?" she said, her voice rising. "You can be pretty mean, really, pretty mean."

Brenden turned his blind eyes directly toward the sound of her voice. "I'm sorry, Lindsey," he said quietly. "You're probably right. Let's figure we just weren't really meant for each other, okay? Let's just wish each other good luck and move on with our lives."

He extended his hand, and after a moment, the girl took it.

"You've got a good handshake, Lindsey," Brenden said. "It says you're going to get everything you want in life. You'll have it all."

"Not everything," Lindsey said. He heard her climb down from her stool. "Good-bye, Brenden."

"Good luck, Lindsey," the blind man told her, meaning it. In seconds, the girl was gone, her scent following her out of the bar and out of his life.

chapter twenty.

Brenden loved the hypnotic sound of the train wheels as they clickety-clacked their way west, headed for Winter Park Mountain.

It was early on Sat.u.r.day morning, and the cars were full of raucous people, laughing and excited about the day of skiing ahead. Conditions were fantastic on this first week in April. Springtime had come to the Rockies. They called it "bronzing time," when you could ski in jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt with the sun beating down on your body.

The weather report suggested the possibility of a spring storm bringing another foot to the mountains, and that had everybody excited.

"May be a powder day," people were saying. "Yeah, boy, a powder day."

Nelson lay next to his master's feet, his rear under the seat, his head occasionally coming up to touch the man's knee.

Brenden was in higher spirits than at any time since his accident. That chance meeting with Lindsey the other night had lifted a load from his shoulders. He knew-he clearly understood-that he had been infatuated with her but that they had not truly been in love, not in the way people needed to love in order to build a successful relations.h.i.+p. They had been-and he smiled thinking about it-in l.u.s.t.

So what was he feeling about Kat Collins-this mountain girl who exuded so much goodness and enthusiasm? He thought that he was now ready to explore possibilities, and instinct told him that Kathleen Collins might be feeling the same way. They had talked about previous relations.h.i.+ps-the good, the bad, and the ugly-and they had learned that their views were very similar when it came to what each wanted in a partner.

So how would he cross the line? That was the problem. And the nervousness in the pit of his stomach told him that he really wasn't as secure as he might have thought. What if she turns me down? What if she isn't really interested?

Automatically, he patted the big dog at his feet to gain confidence, and the animal, sensing his friend's nervousness, licked his hand as if to say, I got your back, Master. Don't worry about a thing.

That day the skiing was awesome. At about two o'clock, the snow started to fall. First in soft, lazy flakes that floated down from high, dreamlike clouds, and then as the storm dropped into the valley and the clouds settled over the Continental Divide, the intensity built as the wind rose and the flakes became smaller, thicker, and faster.

Kat and Brenden had just completed a rundown Mary Jane Trail on the back side of the mountain and arrived at the chair lift with the girl studying the sky.

"I think we'd better call it a day, Brenden," she said, above the wind. "This is getting pretty serious."

"Aw, come on, Kat. It's just a little snow, and anyway this is probably my last run for the year. You guys close up here next week. Let's just have one mote. There'll be n.o.body up there, and you'll be able to let me ski on my own."

"All right, Brenden," Kat said reluctantly. "Just one more."

"Last run," the chair lift operator told them as they got on. "We're closing the lifts after this. It's getting too tough up there, so make it quick, and get off the mountain."

By the time they arrived at the top, the conditions had worsened by at least 50 percent. Brenden registered the concern in Kat's voice.

"Listen," she said, "I can't really see where we're going. I mean, I can see the sides of the trail with the tree line, but b.u.mps and terrain changes, I can't read them in this flat light."

Having been sighted, Brenden understood exactly what the girl meant, and yet the touch of danger excited him, challenged something inside him.

"We've skied this run a lot. It's an even fall line, and if you just keep me centered, I think I can actually help ski us down."

Kat's laugh held a hint of nervousness. "Oh, you mean the blind leading the blind?"

"That's about it," Brenden replied. "Let's go for it."

Brenden's senses were heightened as they began the descent. He read every nuance of the snow as his skis glided silently through the powder. Keeping his turns uniform, he kept them moving, ghostlike through the storm. Turn and release. Turn and release. Turn and release.

Over the next fifteen or twenty minutes, there wasn't much talk between the two young people, but in their working together, in their sharing, a real sense of partners.h.i.+p was expressed, and they both knew it.