He had been in the bar for a couple of hours and had noticed that there was one girl in particular who was taking a noticeable fancy to him. She sat across the room and occasionally flashed him a comely glance. She was sitting with a group of friends and Aaron only knew of two approaches in such an instance. One, he could walk up to her in full bravado and tell her what she thought, which he had been rehearsing in his mind for the last half hour:

�My name is God. Who are you?� His eyes burning into hers. Her retinas permanently searing the image of this young man into themselves.
�I am Rita,� She whispers. No matter it was inaudible. Aaron can tell her name is Rita now, not that it matters. She is silent and enraptured by this young man�s stare.
Her friends stir and seem to be disapproving, but curious about him. He looks at a female at the table and she melts at his authority. He looks at a male who tries to look back but looks away instead at the bare wall for very apparent reasons.
�Well Rita, we are going to my place.�
She stood obsequiously and began an evening of fawning compliance. They left. No one tried to stop them, even though one of the boys at their table was her official date; he just tried to look as if nothing was going on.

She stood for real now, and Aaron nearly panicked. Was she leaving! Jesus! Don�t leave! But she only went to the bathroom. Aaron decided this was an opportunity to go to the bar.
He was standing in line for some time and, realizing this, decided to give the bar a look around, check her table, see if she was back. He turned around and, quite unexpectedly, found himself looking at Rita. She was right behind him. This did give him somewhat of a start, which he hoped did not show.
�Hi,� She said, and smiled. She was nice. She had red curly hair, which reminded him of his mother, which made him want to kill her. His mother�s curly red hair had been taken by the futile chemotherapy and she was lying in a hospital bed with a malignant tumor, dying. But still, she was nice. As soon as he could recompose what he thought he had lost he repeated back, �Hi.� And tried to look nonchalant and cool. He offered to buy her a beer and she accepted. She, in return, invited him to join the group she was with.
Preferring to sit alone with her, he reluctantly accepted. Being unable to fashion a stratagem to alter his station in power, he could either sit with them, or alone.
He followed her over to their table. �What�s your name?� He asked.
�Panda,� She called over her shoulder. �My name is Panda.� It turned out her name is Panda, or so she said. Sounded like a stripper to Aaron. No one really names their kid Panda, and besides, it sounds like a stripper�s name. Well, whatever, he needed to play it cool now, these minutes were crucial. No obvious second guessing.
�What�s your name?� She asked him just before they reached the table.
�Aaron.�
�Hey,� She said, �How �bout that?�
�How �bout what?� They were at the table now.
�Both our names start�� She thought for a second, �Or rather, they have A�s in them.� She ended up mumbling in a false and immediately contrived fashion.
�Hey!� She hastily turned to her friends, �This is Aaron.� Everyone looked at him, making him self-conscious. He wondered if his fly was down but then remembered that it was Panda who had gone to the bathroom. So his fly was up. The group said a collective, �What�s up.� And although it started with the word, �What,� it was not a question, so Aaron repeated the rhetoric, �How�s it going.� And with that they sat down.
It went well. Extraordinarily well. The whole group, including Aaron, got drunk. They got on famously. But the night was ending. Indeed, the Neanderthal was yelling at everyone and no one to, �Get out now! We�re closed!� And his bellowing was treated in much the same manner as a mosquito bite, as a nuisance, albeit one that cannot be ignored once it starts itching.
�Go home!� The bouncer hollered. And this seemed to be particularly directed at the table Aaron was sitting at. So he subtly, almost imperceptibly, but quite mechanically spelled out, �Fuck you,� with his fingers in sign.
�What was that?� Asked Panda.
�What was what?� Returned Aaron, in truth, unsure.
�All those,� A pause, �Finger things.� And she twiddled all her digits in the air, making everyone laugh.
Aaron looked at her for a second.
�Go home people!� The robot screamed.
�Oh that. It was just signing for �fuck you,�� And as he spoke it, he spelled it.
�Neat!�
�We�re closed people! Go home!�
�Wow,� Said Aaron, �I think they�re closed.� His sarcasm struck the chord and everyone laughed. At the same time, they were all flipping the bouncer off under the table. One of the guys remarked that it was just shorthand for the same thing, and the laughing continued.
It was easy to get Panda to take him home. They were finally alone. Alone, together.

In the car:

�Man,� Said Aaron, �My house sucks.�
Panda wondered for a second if it was a ploy but really didn�t even care. She said, �Wanna come over to my place?� They looked at each other. Then she had to look back at the street. Aaron felt as if he had won a staring contest, which was stupid because she was driving. Nevertheless, he felt suddenly in control and stared straight ahead.
�Yes,� He said.

At her place:

She lived in an apartment in an ugly neighborhood. She had no posters on the walls but did have a few prints. They were all so phallic. Aaron almost laughed because in his own apartment was a print which resembled an enormous vagina.
�Just let me check my messages,� She said. And she walked over to the answering machine and checked them:
�Hi Amanda,� The box said, �Jim here. Listen,� Which is almost all anyone can do to a box, �I have to go to Houston. So look at it this way.� Which is another thing you can do to a box, she glared at it. �I�ll keep in touch.� And that�s the last thing you can do to a box. And this last thing is exactly what she did. She hit the machine.
�I thought you said your name was Panda?�
In order to look at him she had to wheel around. There was a tear in her eye. �It is.�
�Then why��
�Because he�s an asshole!� She screamed.
It was difficult, but Aaron had to do something. �Well,� He said, �Take me home.� When she let him out at his house she said, �I�m sorry, Aaron.� And seemed honest enough.
He lingered for just a second before he closed the car door, �Don�t sweat it,� And he looked right into her eyes and said coldly, �Panda.� And he shut the car door.

He was still drunk. So he had to fumble for his keys. Once he had the right one, he had to fumble with the lock. Once inside, Rita was standing there. She was still awake. �Fuck!� He thought. So he said, �What are you doing�up?�
She wanted to hit him for being an ass. �W-h-a-t!� She spelled.
�N-o-t-h-i-n-g.� He spelled back.
She looked at him and felt like crying. Her face showed her feelings. Add that to the fact that she was very pretty and it made Aaron want to punch her. He couldn�t understand what made her think she had it so bad.
�Who was she?� She signed in letters, �W-h-o w-a-s s-h-e?�
Aaron ground his teeth and screamed, �PANDA!�
�W-h-a-t,� She signed frantically, �W-h-o?�
For the first time in their year and a half long relationship, Aaron wished he had learned how to really sign, so that he could yell at her.
�T-a-l-k t-o m-e!� She signed letter by letter for him. �W-h-o w-a-s s-h-e?�
Aaron threw his arms into the air and screamed. No words, just a scream. It was all the same anyway. She could never understand his pain. He could never really tell her what was wrong. He could never really tell her how he felt. All he expressed accurately was anger. The inflections of his voice were lost. Everything imparting meaning was lost. She stared at his hands, not into his eyes. Everything but the words was lost. Half the time he got the h, p, q, k, and g mixed up and Rita had to decipher what he was misspelling to her. This was cute at first, but as it continued, and it became apparent that he was never going to learn her language, Rita would hide in the bedroom in the middle of the day and cry. That seems like a long time ago now, and she has stopped crying. Having traded it in for the long face of martyrdom.
This was all fine with Aaron. Her deafness had attracted him at first. She will never answer the phone or understand a message on an answering machine. He felt secure and free at the same time. Secure because he had a woman. Free because he had her where he wanted her, and he could do as he pleased. Too bad she wasn�t blind too. Now her deafness was no longer attractive, it had become a nuisance, a mosquito bite.
�T-a-l-k t-o m-e!� She signed again.
Aaron pierced nothing with his scream, �I CAN'T!�
�I s-a-w h-e-r, A-a-r-o-n!�
Annoyed, Aaron spelled it out for her. �A g-i-r-l.�
Rita would have cried, but she only knew what tears looked like. It has nothing to do with being deaf, but she could not feel tears anymore. She had already cried all the ones possible over Aaron. And could now only look sad. Sad and pretty.
The phone rang. Aaron smiled. He walked off, but not for no reason, to answer the phone.
As he turned his back Rita signed in useless full words that he could not see or understand; �Where are you going!�
�Yello,� He said into the phone as he answered it. Rita felt stupid.
�Aaron, this is your father.� Aaron stiffened. �It�s that time son.� Aaron froze. He knew. His father didn't have to say it. He knew.

He could hear it in his voice.

There was a silence.

To everyone.

Aaron spoke, �Mom?�

�Yes. Come home.�

�Yes.�

Rita made out the word mom on Aaron�s lips and saw his face. She was not blind.

**************************************************************

New York City

Redwoods Vacation 2003 Mt. St. Helens 2003

Vietnam and More/ Webcam Pics/ Greenbelt/ When We Were Young/ Beach Party

Bowling & Work/ On a Ski Trip/ Willie & Coe

Washington

Grand Canyon & Redwoods 2002/ More Washington

Anthony

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