Von hier an blind

[General]

"Auf weidersehn, Kat!"

"Tschus, Ari!" The blind young woman waved goodbye as she stepped backward, clad in white shirt, grey waistcoat, and that faded navy blue greatcoat she had always been tall enough to wear-she must have been born five foot ten and grown from there.It was uncharacteristically cold, or else the young woman would not have been able to bear the heavy clothing. The formal effect was spoilt a little by the pair of darkwash jeans she was wearing, however. Dark hair thrown behind her well-cut shoulders, the tall girl meandered somewhat up and down the street while trying to find which pocket sjhe had left her collapsible cane in. Pulling the thin metal rod out to its full length, she extended it outwards, trying to recall where the bloody bus stop was.

Whenever Aribeth moved somewhere new, she spent time, familiarizing herself with the corners, where veerything was, how many paces away. However, since she did not spend much time in Hugeloberseite (definetely a spot of natural beauty, which she could no longer discern) hence why she was using the demeaning cane which she so loathed. It marked her out as some sort of invalid, and that was something she could not stand-she knew she was blind, and there was no way around it, but it did not mean that she had to be nannied all the time, which was a natural reaction to most people. She had Miroslav, and Lukas. If ever she needed something or a guiding arm, they would be there. They were indeed a close-knit family, and it was due to those thoughts that Aribeth was distracted and walked into the bus stop. "Merde..." Swearing in foreign languages was always fun, she thought, while waiting for the bus.

[Rev. D. Wayne Love]

It was a nice day for a walk.

James walked casually towards the bus stop. He wore a white suit complete with pocket watch and silver cufflings.

It was a very nice day for a walk and James used the airs pleasantry to inspire his thoughts. He liked to plan his time, to organise and prepare for whatever the day would bring.

He reached his desired destination and took his place amongst the small gathering. A man moved uncomfortably close to him, standing at less than an arms length, mumbling into his mobile phone.

"Entschuldigen Sie bitte haben Sie die Zeit?"

James was torn from his awkwardness by the young man's request. He fumbled for his pocket watch, pulling tentatively on its chain. As if to mock his efforts the other man, finished with his call, took a step forward.

"Quater letzten acht" He said, reading off his phone.

"Danke" the young man said before moving on, leaving James with his hand akwardly stuck in the small pocket. As if to make it worth his time he pulled the silver timepiece out and inspected its decorative surface.

It read twenty past eight.

He tucke dit away just in time to catch in the side of his vision a woman walking in the bus stop. Whilst others reactions were to snigger or gasp, he immediately rushed forward to her aid.

The woman seemed to curse as he came close.

"Excuse me, are you alright?" He said in a deep, formal tone.

He noticed then woman was blind. He paused as the woman seemed to notice his presence.

"Bist du verletzt?" He said in a German accent so tried, it bordered absurd.

It was at this point the bus rolled into view.

"The bus is just coming miss. Let me help you on board." He said slowly, as he used his presence to not so uch help the girl - she seemed more than capable - but to command others to respect that law upheld by the principled that the disabled should not be hindered in their travels.

"Let me help you." He said more intimately.

[General]

Aribeth had always been a woman fond of formalware, and had she been able to see James, she would have complemented him on his taste, although white suits in informal situations always made people look like drug bosses. However, she was not able to see him or the bus stop, hence why her quiet swearing carried on in a variety of languages, including Libyan, until the gentleman came to her aid. Her first reaction was one of typically unconfident bashfulness, so like Aribeth, then gratitude. "Danke, herr." The english accent was clear. "I am quite capable of speaking english, and thank you, sir." She slammed her hand down on the cane, collapsing it and shoving the compacted version into her pocket, the same pocket with her bus card. Keeping the left arm in her pocket, she extended her right.

For once, she decided she was going to let herself be helped. usually she would have shied away, but...a lady is allowed to change her mind. "Take my arm, sir. My name is Aribeth Snow, and I cannot carry on calling you sir. What is your name?" As she spoke, the bus rolled up, and the young woman made ready to draw and display the disability card. Unlike in the UK, EU disability cards actually gave you some practical aid. This, she decided, was helpful, as she waited for the young gentleman to continue his rare-by virtue of it being kind-behaviour.

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[Rev. D. Wayne Love]

"What is your name?"

James took her hand gentley in his own craftsman hand, and led her to the bus.

"My name is James Fitzgerald, you can call me James off course. I study at Sudbayern Internationhochschule. Watch the step." He helped her up to the step where she showed her card to the the driver. James went ahead before directing her to a seat. He sat down, saying nothing for a moment before realising his mistake. "May I take a seat?" He said gently so not to startle the girl.

*****

The Day Before...

The car sped down the road.

Rob sat in driving seat, one hand on the wheel the other holding a cigarette. He wore a black cowboy inspired outfit, complete with hat and wrap around shades. The radio was booming and he enjoyed the beat along with his fag.

"Woke up this morning, got yourself a gun. Mamma always said you'd be the... chosen one..." He took a puff, before thinking back to the last couple of hours. "Shit..."

He reached the airport and strided casually in. He walked up to the closest available spot.

"yes sir, what can I do for you?"

"Yeah, I'd very much like to purchaise a ticket doll."

The woman, a little turned off by the man's get-up, repleid.

"Where would you like to go.. sir?"

"Anywhere's good enough for me" He said, clearly in a rush

"Surely you have a destination in mind."

"Show me where the wind's blowing."

"Sir?"

"Anywhere, anywhere... Just not bloody Canada... Or Africa.. Yeah"

"Well I have a number of recommended destinations. Would you like a look?"

Rob drew his shades down a notch, looking at her with half-sober eyes.

The girl's smile immediately fanished and she frowned at him.

"Fine, I'll get you a ticket." She started typing into the computer. "Any luggage?"

"Only what i got on me"

"Any liquids, sharp objects, etc, must be dicarded before boarding the flight."

"Yes maam."

She printed off the ticket.

"Passport?" Rob handed her it. She handed it back with the ticket. "Here's yor passport and a ticket to Munich. It's lovely this time of year, you know I went there with my two brothers last June..."

"If this ain't gonna lead to the Mile High Club you better save it." The frown became a scowl. Rob answered it with a decayed smile, as he set off. He was met by a large woman.

"Excuse me sir, but you can't go any further without discarding your liquids."

"I ain't got any."

"Let me see your ticket and passport." She scanned it. "On you go."

Finally Rob got to customs. He pulled a tray and emptied his pockets. Lighter, pack of cigarettes, keys, harmonica, gum, tissues, cheap mobile, mp3 player, a black leather wallet with a picture of a red skull with an afro and one unused condom. He also removed his shades, feeling naked in the clear light, as well as his hat.

He stroked his greying hair, looking around half expecting someone to recognise him.

He got his stuff together and moved on.

He had a 2 hour long wait, browsing stores. He bought a Hank William's CD for £10.

When he finally found himself on the plane, sitting by the window the irony of the last three hours hit him.

"It's not like it used to." he said to himself.

The plane touched down in Munich and he quickly made his way out of the airport. He stood for a moment breathing in the new air, before taking out his cigarette pack. On the front is an eviscerated human heart, rank and swollen by fag abuse. 'SMOKING LEADS TO A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH'.

He takes one out, lights it, takes a few puffs and chucks it, before getting into a random taxi.

"Where you want to go?" The man says in a strong German accent.

"Pub" he says in his Texan-mocking accent.

The Present Day.

Now Rob found himself running down a random street. He had no memory of the night before, which was probably a good thing. All he kew is that his lungs were about to explode.

The bus was just taken off.

"Stop!!" He cried, slowing down due to exhaustion.

The bus didn't stop.

Rob reached the bus stop and exclaimed loudly.

Hell I don't even know if that were the right bus. Everything's in bloody German He thought to himself. He turned to an elderly woman.

"Do. You. Know. When. The. Next. Bus. Comes? Ya." He nods. The old woman stares at him blankly. He tunrs away. "Bloody Germans don't understand a word of English. Why that woman give me a bloody country that don't speak bloody English." It was at that point the woman replied.

"Bus to town comes in 15 minutes." Before walking away from the stunned Rob. He was sure he heard her sweet German voice mutter.

"Bloody tourists."

[General]

Very good work, Aribeth. Finish the quarter and grab a drill.
'Sir. Come on you damned...is that a knot?
Ari? Sir, Ari's had an accident!
What? Holy shit, call an ambluance, Lance, get down to the MR! Aribeth, what happened?
Ari, it's going to be okay!

Aribeth shuddered slightly as horiffic memories surfaced for a moment. The blood, the glint of the metal...it was fair to say that the 16th June was not a good day, and every anniversary (and the days aroundit) were not enjoyable, during which the young woman retreated even further into her shell. Not tht she was overly outward anyway-even being so outgoing as to offer her arm to anyone was extreme for her standards. Originally, she had planned on just linking arms, but this gentleman had lightly grasped her hand. When was the last time somebody had done that? She wasn't even that intimate with Lukas or Miro. Still, it was nice to be able to be held in whatever way by somone and for it not to be some sort of sexual advance.

She listened as he mention the Internationalhochschule, and decided to mention her own position there. As he sat, she spoke in the melting-pot accent which could only be described as pan-european. "Oh? I'm finishing my education there at the moment as it happens. That, and I've taken courses in advanced langauges. Planning on being an EU interpreter, but somehow I doubt that my-" She took on a sarcastic tone "-Visual impairment," and then dropped it again before continuing. "Will get in the way." It was true, career options were somewhat limited to the blind. The traditional organ playing was out of the question, Aribeth was both musically disabled and loathed organs, and any employer would run as far away as possible from giving her a real job. Maybe as a PR move she'd have token employment, but no real work.

And God, did it get on her nerves.

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[Rev. D. Wayne Love]

"Oh? I'm finishing my education there at the moment as it happens. That, and I've taken courses in advanced langauges. Planning on being an EU interpreter, but somehow I doubt that my-" Her voice took on a sarcastic tone that made James grimace, "-Visual impairment," She released him, "Will get in the way."

He suddenly realised she was finished and tried to quicly compose an answer. It was odd, speaking to a blind woman. James was so used to be read; scrutinised by figures of high pedigree and standard. Instead he couldn't help but falter. When he spoke it felt, even to him, that he was choosing his words very carefully.

"... Do you really? You must be quite the linguistic. I myself am in my final year, studying" his own tone became montomous with sarcastic formality "Electronic & Electrical Engineering with Business Studies" His tone became more casual. "Basically, I plan to carry on my father's... legacy and help him with the running of the family business." He paused "He makes trains, well maintains them really. We're like a giant garrage I guess, fixing just about anything, from a humble timepiece" he picked out his own, blushing slightly when he relised she couldn't witness it "to a jet fighter."

He paused, doubting if this girl would thank him for introducing her to the world of engineering. Another thing he noticed was that blind people were hard to read themselves, so instead he simply tried to keep converstaion going, determined not to deny this girl the use of her remaining senses.

"Aribeth Snow is an odd name if you don't mind me saying... Where does it come from?"

[General]

The bus went on to Kleine Munchen, but through a very long path going through what seemed like every hamlet in south Bavaria. Hence why the journey would be about an hour and a half, sometimes two hours due to the small bit when the bus went onto a major road. Aribeth, on this trip, realized she had made a mistake, changing the grammatical failiure she had made. “I apologize-I was not clear, my meaning was lost somewhat in a poor choice of words. What I meant was that the fact I am, as the political correctness police you have you say, visually impaired will likely block by way to a career of any sort. Those hypocrites insist that every option is open to people of all walks of life, then want me to sit at home all day vegetating and living off benefits.” It was then that her newfound partner enquired about the origins of her name. Aribeth thought for a moment, before answering. “It is a corruption of the Welsh Arybyth, which died out a long time ago. Indeed, I have never met a person who shares my name, and due to it’s rarity, the only reference you will be likely to find is to a character in a computer game. Snow is my family’s name, which I assume has something to do with the fact that we traditionally travelled through the colder parts of the British Isles. We do still travel around, although currently I’m staying with my brother and cousin. Miroslav, my brother, never did enjoy the moving about much. He recently became a reservist, having been a full member of the Bundeswehr prior. Lukas, whose father we live with, plays for Bayern Munchen, which you cannot be here long and not hear of.”

It was annoying; to say the least, to share a name with a computer game character, but it could have been worse. There were some poor children named ‘Daz’ or ‘Coke’, which were absolutely shocking. Even worse was the fate of the late Michael Jackson’s children, one of whom was named ‘blanket’. Having listened to James’ summary of his work, she replied. “Impressive. My father was a mechanic and driver for the Bundeswehr, although I doubt you want to hear about that. Where are you living at the moment? Karl’s house is just outside of Sudensseit.” Both large, due to the fact Lukas was making hundreds of thousands, and nice, due to both design and family atmosphere.

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[Rev. D. Wayne Love]

"Well you shouldn't let others force you to choose a path you are not destined for. That's an interesting history you have. My name is not Fitzgerald, origionally that is, my grandfather was the late Bruno Leberecht. Don't worry, I'd never really heard of him, but I did hear he was quite the influetial businessman. My family live throughout Germany, refusing to leave. I instead chose to travel. I lived in England mostly, then travelled through India, regions of Africa, South Korea, Japan, even Outer Mongolia... Went by so quickly though, but I met all sorts of interesting people who did interesting things. Then off course I lived in Amerca for a while, but that's the time something very sad happened which I don't like to talk about very much." He felt foolish. "You must excuse me. I've been so busy with my work I haven't had company which doesn't require nailing" he blushed, "I mean.. Well I guess I'm just attracted by people who are different, no offense, it's just, well I've never met a blind woman before.." James heeded the voice in his head and led a long pause.

"By the way, I'm just staying on campus as it were. I have a small agreement with the powers that be. It allows me to continue my work as I'm always so busy. I sometimes visit an old friend who stays by the river and spend some weekeneds there." He leaned forward to catch a glimpse of some of the countryside. It was nice, but James, as much as he enjoyed working on them, found it hard to stomach long journeys, especially on such primative transport.

He didn't know what it was, but Aribeth unnerved him. He was usually in control of himself. It wasn't physical attraction. That was very rare with his breed. All he knew is that he needed to remove himself from any eventual situation, so he could follow the series of inner laws and protocols before he could establish what might be a long lasting friendship. Friednship meant trust and he did not have faith that keeping secrets was a universal principle shared by all.

Everyone is born different. He thought reflectively.

[General]

Aribeth was a linguist; this meant she needed a good grasp of the human voice, it's nuances, and because she was blind she needed to be able to analyze implied meaning, or concealed meaning or implication, in an instant. It was helpful during conversation (obviously-that WAS the intended arena of use). It also helped Aribeth detect a note of discomfort in James' voice as he spoke about his travels, especially in the pause, a well-placed silence that spoke a thousand words. As he continued, Aribeth noticed that her leg was slightly wet. She was sitting on her greatcoat, and the bus had shut windows, so why was it wet? There was a smell of rust, a tingling on her left cheek, and her left eye was stinging...oh bugger. Moving to face him again, timed just rightly at the end of his little speech (she ignored the slightly hurtful blind comment, sicne there was no malice intended) and spoke.

"Excuse me, James, but do you have a tissue of some sort? If I am not very mistaken, I am bleeding from my right eye." It would have made a very good photo, doubtless-apparently, Aribeth was somewhat photogenic.

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[Rev. D. Wayne Love]

James gasped in akward horror

"Sheeebaa." He then instintinvely pulled a violet handkerchief from his pocket. "Here you go" He didn't give it to her, but instead began to clean her up, first dealing with the overflow then, then holding the cloth over the wound. "Hold it here." He moved her hand to push the handkerchief on her eye. "Does this happen often?" He enquired almost casually, like a doctor out of theatre speaking to a patient who's leg has fallen off. "Let's clean you up now." He picked out a white tissue and put to her mouth. "Spit please, unless you'd like my germs?"

When she did so he gently wiped the dry blood from her pretty, but troubled, face. "I'm no doctor, but I think you should be fine, so long as you don't go poking your eye." he smiled, letting a faint chuckle paint a mental image in her mind. At least that was what he intended.

He sat back and took in a breath.

"So, beyond random bleeding, what do you do for recreation?" The adrenaline of the shock seemed to have calmed him down. Even so he still held to the guidelines of casual conversation.

[General]

It was no surprise to the young woman that James was a little surpised at what she referred to as an 'ocular stigmata', a play on stigmatism. It was due to the fact that occasionally blood flowed toward the eyes and broke through a clot, leaking out of her eye. It was bloody murder, trying to clean them, but it had to get done. Back home, she could have got her mother to help her shower, and neither had any qualms with it; they were very close, and were both women, (and despite Aribeth's...prediliction for women, she did not get aroused by her mother...that would have just been odd) btu most of all Aribeth was concious of the fact she needed help for certain things. However, she could not ask her brother or cousin to do it; that was just, similarly, odd, and her uncle had already been more than accomodating, so far as to modifying the house slightly to give Aribeth a hand (although she had insisted that he did NOT install a stairlift). Still, she had to become independant, so she saw it as a challenge, not a hindrance. That was her attitude to life-see everything as a challenge, never see it as a problem. (The irony was apparent, and it did make her life, in her more private moments.)

As James cleaned her face, Aribeth's elegant fingers stroked James' comparatively large hand, entirely incidentally, and the blind young woman failed to notice until it drew away, apparently of it's own force. She blushed, embarassed, ever a shy woman, and instead of holding the tissue she had spat in to her eye, she quickly folded it into a perfect square (one of her more esoteric talents) and put it under the light brown strip, giving just a brief chance for James to see the horiffic sight of her ruined ocular organs-with added blood. It was, however, brief, and when Aribeth released her thumb the strap flung back, elasticated, and held the tissue in place. While her hands were behind her head in a desperate attempt to tighten the loosening band (for once, it was not the fact she was blnd impeding her; it was hard to do things behind one's head anway, and her three middle right fingers were now slick with blood), she spoke, reacting to James' question about her hobbies. "I take exception to that, James!" She gave up, exasperated. Aribeth turned, pointed quickly to the messy knot, as though to suggest that he reconcile by trying it properly.

Answering him while waiting for him to do it (and apologise-the woman was always right, an enjoyable steroetype for once), she spoke in that soft, many-accented voice she was so gifted with. She could have been a singer if she'd practised. "This is not recreation-it does hurt, you know! Er...well, I go to my cousin's FC Bayern (a team nobody could be in Germany for more than two minutes and not hear of) football matches-obviously, my brother has to commentate for me, but other than that...erm...occasionally, I go to the nightclubs up in Munchen, since the nightlife in and around Kleine Munchen is one shop open after 8. The rest of my time is probably spent with family and friends. Miroslav and Lukas, my brother and cousin, are probably the dearest people in the world to me. I don't know what I'd do without them. For a start, they're the people I live with-and Lukas' father, and they've moved mountains to make me comfortable. It's...well, quite flattering, really. Now...tell me about yourself. Start with what I can't see."

[/center]

[Rev. D. Wayne Love]

James failed to notice the caress, so focused was he on helping her. It was a strange thing. He had experience with helping people, being in the right place at the right time, but he often found it difficult to read people’s intentions. He knew what people needed, not what they wanted. As for him, both concepts were beyond his indecisive grasp.

The quick glimpse of the wound was disturbing, such a contrast to the rest of the picture. He pretended not to notice, looking at his feet. When he noticed she was having trouble complied to make amends.

“Forgive me, I was speaking out of term. Let’s see..” he took the band in hand and swiftly tied in a knot, pulling an ounce too hard, but not too tight. “It does look sore…” He gave her a reassuring stroke that started from that top of her head and left her face at the chin. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t sensual, but held the common courtesy and affection one has for a pet post-operation. “But I’m sure you’ll be fine. Please, if there is anything I can do, just ask. I like to think myself as quite the fixer. Not that you can fix people, or that you’re broken – because you’re not – I just like to help… Selfish I know.” He withdrew into himself a little. He couldn’t help but think of his past. He didn’t like to, for looking into ones past – depending on the life one has led – can often feel like looking back at summer during the autumn. It only reminds one of the coming winter.

There is no greater sorrow than to recall in misery the time when we were happy. James couldn’t help but congratulate Dante on his prophetic talent.

He realised then he hadn’t really been listening. He had caught a few facts – Miroslav and Luke – but had lost himself in the obliviousness of Aribeth in her darkness. How aware was she of the world around him he thought. How did she imagine he looked? Handsome, graceful… old?

“Now...tell me about yourself. Start with what I can't see."

He let out a nervous laugh.

“Umm.. Well, I…” He stopped dead, thinking, composing before starting again. “I’m 23, 5ft11, average weight I think.” He patted his tummy to be sure. “I have blonde hair, blue eyes, no scars, no tattoos, but I do have a small mole on my side.” He gave a chuckle. “But I guess that’s not what you meant. I don’t know, were you born blind?” He paused to check himself. “I mean no offense. No, there’s not much to say about me, not much to see, or hear, or… taste I suppose…” He puzzled himself, before stretching. “I’ve already mentioned my work, I’m rich I guess, but you don’t seem too bad off yourself. I’m involved in charities, so I’m obviously a sinner, I don’t smoke, but I am particular to the odd brandy. I don’t get up to much these days – because of my work – but I do get the odd picnic riverside. I have some friends; some family some real.” He sighed. “I used to play the piano” He said tragically. “Not that I was any good off course” (a man who boasts is a man who bluffs). “I miss my sister, oh I never mentioned her did I? My sister’s called Nina, Nina Leberecht. She lives in England with her husband. She’s only 19, but I guess their in love. I always found it hard to believe people when they try to convince me it’s love. Such a precise thing. Well, she’s a musician, plays violin mostly, won a few competitions, but no one’s really recognized her for it. Well except for polite old men.” He emphasized the last sentence with a hint of sarcasm. “I always wanted to escape that world, with all its walls and facades. Oh I’m sorry, I’m thinking out loud as it were. It happens from time to time. I believe my grandfather was quite the philosopher, you must forgive me.” He bowed his head apologetically, for himself more than her.

The bus stopped to take on more cargo. James looked outside. The trees, tinted with spots of yellow and red, were blowing in a gentle breeze. A leaf swooped from its perch, landing gently on the earth. James turned to Aribeth as the bus moved on.

“Pardon?”

[General]

Aribeth did not notice the little tug too hard on her head; when one is used to sensory isolation, the other senses become a little duller. Her hearing, however, was sharper than a dog's; an adaptation to her 'condition'. God, that term was awful. It was a conservative, offensive, patronizing, boorish, moronic, stupid, detestable term and she made a point of kicking whomsoever used it to her in either the bollocks or the shins. It reminded her of David Cameron-the Conservative Party's do-gooder asswipe, who was going to be running the country for four years because the public wanted to blame Labour. Yes, she kpt up-tp-date with the entirety of pan-european politics, which was not easy. Then again, what was? She had to read Private Eye online with a narrator program, and it meant she was unable to appreciate the accompanying satirical cartoons.

She was puzzled by what seemed to be James' surprise, and replied whenever he needed one. "Sore? What do you mean?" Or great, now she was going to have a rash too. Te next reply, however, was not as forthcoming, easy, or short. She became visibly unnerved as she portrayed the events that robbed her of her sight. "No, James, I...it..." she inhaled, trying to calm herself (and failing quite spectacularly). " I was 14, so...it was some time ago, a few years now. I was in an American school, California. The land of sun and too little rain...sorry, I digress. Anyway, I was in a woodwork lesson-a former hobby of mine. My father always says I should have been a furniture designer. I had just finished...well, I was finishing the last curve of a clock body with a rotary saw bench, and..." Aribeth seemed in pain, and her eyes burned while she recalled her experiences. "...the blade shattered. The shrapnel hit me in the eyes and the bridge of my nose, and by the time I woke up I was blind." Aribeth stopped abruptly. If she carried on she'd break into tears, and on a packed public bus that was the last thing she wanted.

She depressed a button on her watch with a delicate finger. It spoke in a monotonous tone wioth the same voice used by Stephen Hawking. "Four. Thirteen." She had left Katrin's at three. so she must have been on this bus forty minutes or so. "James, when we get back to Kleine Munchen, do you have to go straight away? I thought you might want to have a cup of tea or whatever your particular liquid of choice is. The house is completely empty, Miroslav is on a brief holiday in Munchen, Lukas has training with Bayern, and Karl is working as one of the coaching staff." Please, let him say yes. Aribeth had somehow linked with James. His next few sentences would tell her whether that was mutual.

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