The Hearing Heart
           The group of teenagers was watching the young man carry the heavy bags of feed out of the farm store.

            “There’s the ‘dummy’ again,” the blonde seventeen year old boy said to the others standing around.

            “The correct term is deaf/mute,” one of the girls said. “Nobody says deaf and dumb any more.”

            “Well, my dad says ‘dummy’ and if it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.”

            “He may be mute, but he’s also cute,” another girl said, giggling and blushing because she had said it ouloud.

            “Do you want me to fix him up with you?” the blonde boy said, grinning maliciously.

            “He is kind of cute if you didn’t know he was deaf,” her friend said, supporting Caitlyn so Kyle would give       it a rest. She knew once he latched onto something, he wouldn’t let it drop.

            “I think Caitlyn should go out with the ‘dummy’, Kyle said grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the man’s truck.

            Caitlyn pulled back and looked like she was going to cry.

            “Let her go, Kyle,” her friend said, “She was just making an observation.

            “Well, keep your observations to yourself from now one,” Kyle hissed, “Or you might get what you wish for.

            Ruthie Baker watched the interaction take place from inside the book store where she worked after school. The doors were open. It was a beautiful spring day in May. She knew all the kids in the group. They were the popular kids that most of the student body wanted to be like or be liked by. She might have been the only exception to the rule.

            The man they were discussing was Matt Sweetman. Her father had told her that Matt had been a normal boy until the accident. He was ten years old at the time. He and his parents were on vacation when a drunk driver plowed into their car, killing everyone inside but Matt. He had severe injuries and the medical personnel didn’t think he would survive. Everyone was amazed when he awoke from his coma, on the mend, except for a complete hearing loss. The doctors couldn’t explain it. At first they thought it might be a psychological trauma and not a physiological injury. They just didn’t know for sure. From that time on, Matt never spoke again and seemed not to be able to hear a thing. He told them as much when he communicated by writing.

            His old, bachelor uncle had taken him in and cared for his physical needs but that was about all. Matt had withdrawn into his own silent world. Ruth’s father, Zeb Baker, had seen something special in the boy and asked the uncle if he could hire Matt to help out around the house. The uncle was glad to have the boy out from under foot and the extra income would come in handy with two mouths to feed rather than one. Zeb and his wife MaryRuth were glad to help the young boy. Ruthie was a toddler when Matt came to the house to help out. He had been a part of her growing up since as far back as her memory would serve. She loved Matt like a big brother. She was eight years old when her mother had died suddenly. Matt had been there for her with his silent support while she poured her heart out to him. Whenever she had anything important going on in her life, it had been Matt she would tell. He would always listen without interrupting and take it all in without judgment. He would smile at her gently and ruffle her caramel colored hair. It hadn’t occurred to her until her friend told her in high school that he probably was just being nice because he couldn’t hear a word she had ever said. She was shocked at her own stupidity. She had always thought that he loved her and was interested in her and enjoyed her company, when in reality he probably didn’t know, didn’t care and couldn’t get away from her because he was working. Remembering that day, made her want to cry all over again. There was an ache in her chest that hadn’t gone away for three years whenever she saw Matt.

            On that day, three years ago, Matt had come over after a long, severe winter and a wet and chilly spring, Ruth ran out to greet him dressed in shorts and a tank top she had bought recently. Matt stared at her for a long time with a blank look on his face like he had never seen her before. He hadn’t smiled or waved and went to talk to her father and turned around and left. He had never come back to the house after that. She was too scared and embarrassed to ask her father what Matt had said. She thought she had done something terrible to make him not want to ever come back to the house. Her heart felt as if it had been physically crushed. There was a real pain in the middle of her chest. She watched Matt drive away without turning around. Something terrible must have happened to cause his reaction when he looked at her. She went to her room and looked in the mirror. She thought she looked nice. Her shorts weren’t too tight and her tank top was modest. Her hair was clean and bouncy. Her skin was still clear and she looked healthy. She threw herself on top of her bed and cried her eyes out until they held no more tears. She washed her face with cold water and went downstairs to fix their supper. She was the meal maker now that her mother was gone. She had started with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and had begun to cut out recipes and found meals on the computer.

            Zeb had invested in a computer for them both. He said it was good for business and a good tool for Ruth to use for her school work. Zeb and Matt had had their conversations on the computer. Zeb had printed out the paper that Matt had typed the day that he had left his employ. Zeb passed it to Ruth. Ruth wanted to take it but her hands were trembling too hard. She grabbed a dish towel and just walked around to her father’s chair and read it over his shoulder. It had stated simply, “Zeb, I won’t be able to come over any longer. It was an honor to help you out. Thank you. Your friend, Matt.”

            Ruth knew it was something she had done but she felt too guilty to talk about it with her father. How she wished she could ask Matt about it. She could talk to him about anything. She was about to start crying all over again but she had to get through her dinner first. Her father asked her about her day at school. She answered as best she could. Trying to talk around the huge lump in her throat was difficult. After she washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, she took the printed page upstairs with her to her bedroom. She read and reread it trying to squeeze any meaning out of it she could have possibly missed the first ten times she had read it. It was always the same. The words didn’t change and there was no hidden meaning that she could determine. That was three years ago. This school year was about over. She would be graduating in one month and was planning on going to college at the state university, a short drive away. She wanted to study to become a nurse. She had always had dreams that centered on saving her mother and restoring Matt’s hearing. She was always the heroine and everyone was always whole and healthy in the end. She knew life didn’t always work that way, but it gave her comfort to think that it might be possible some day to help others in a way she hadn’t been able when she was little and felt so helpless.