Abby ran through the door after the man, but it was dark outside and she couldn’t see anyone at first. Then, there was movement under one of the tall lights, so she started running again. He was filing past the cars two aisles to the right, a good distance away already, and she hoped she could catch him.
It was a handy thing in nearly all situations, of course, but if ever there was a time to have a voice!
Isiah hugged the line of parked cars, watching for taillights ahead and the imminent glare of headlights behind. Unexpectedly, it was one of the first principles he had learned after losing his hearing. Namely, always being mindful to put himself in the best position of safety. It didn’t just apply to moving cars, either, but to all aspects of his life. He had been mugged once long ago, when he could still hear, so now it was even more important that he know how to protect himself. It was the reason he trained Jiu-Jitsu four times a week, and learned about concepts like situational awareness. Why he first visited a shooting range, and eventually decided to carry.
Abby assumed the man would hear her approaching footsteps, and then she would wave his credit card in the air and he would understand why she was chasing him. Except, even as she got close, he didn’t seem to notice. Now, she tried a noise she really didn’t enjoy making—Aghhh! Aghhh!—and wasn’t about to repeat it when it seemed he couldn’t hear that either. Barring her weak shadow catching his eyes as it swept across the asphalt under the fluorescent lights, it seemed she would literally have to grab a hold of him just to get his attention.
Isiah thought he saw something flitting along the ground as he neared his car, but when the slightest turn didn’t reveal any headlights he assumed it was the result of one of those oddly timed blinks, when your eyes tell you something happened in the instant they were closed. He pulled his keys from his pocket, preparing to feel for the button that would unlock the door, and instead felt a hand on his shoulder.
The man flinched at Abby’s touch.
Twisting, Isiah knocked the hand away as he reached under his coat.
Abby knew she had startled him, and it seemed he meant to strike her.
Isiah’s hand was already on his gun as he turned, crouching slightly, and then…
Nothing happened. Isiah saw that it was a woman, unarmed and a bit terrified, her hands up in surrender. She held something in one of them, and the pieces quickly fell into place.
“Oh god, is that mine?” he said. He’d been told his speech remained perfect, though he could no longer hear it.
Still wide-eyed, Abby nodded, slowly holding the card out to him.
Isiah took it, read his name there, then shook his head. When he turned to the woman again, she seemed much recovered. “Sorry. Why didn’t you say something?”
Abby frowned, patted her throat, and shook her own head. Then, she replicated her hasty grunting noises from a moment before—Aghhh! Aghhh!—and pointed to her ear, demanding he explain how he couldn’t hear even that.
The realization struck him, and Isiah began to sign. “Am I forgiven now?”
Abby’s eyes lit up, and then she laughed, a noise she did enjoy making, but one that she now understood the man could only imagine. She signed back, “Isn’t this the most perfectly fucked up situation?”
“I’m I-S-I-A-H.”
“I’m A-B-B-Y.”