Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
How cool is that? Whether it was from my age or strictly my ignorance of the subject, I was blown away by the technology available to him. “I’m sorry I don’t know more about this, but I’ll learn,” I promised. “I hope I didn’t say something wrong.”
“Not at all,” Sterling replied with a wave of his hand. “You’re just trying to help and I appreciate it. Please don’t feel bad for not knowing something, and you can always ask me anything, Beck.”
The nickname sent a shiver down my spine. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or Professor better. But then again, anything would sound great coming from Sterling’s lips.
“Okay guys, I’ve got your Cokes and a basket of garlic bread for you,” Marco announced as he returned and placed the items on our table. “Have you decided what you’d like to eat?”
“You go first, sweetheart,” I told Sterling, mainly just to try out a nickname of my own.
His lips spread into a wide smile before he answered, “I’ll take the chicken fettuccini, please.”
“Good choice,” Marco said before turning to me. “And for you, sir?”
“I’ll try the cheese ravioli.”
“Excellent. I’ll take your menus and get that order put in right away.” Once he collected our booklets, he was gone again.
I watched with curiosity as Sterling placed his hands flat on the table and scooted them forward slowly, until his right hand touched his glass of soda, and his left hand found the basket of bread. Then he nodded to himself and pulled his hands back. He wasn’t wanting either thing yet; he was just learning where they were.
“I do have a couple of questions if that’s okay,” I admitted, and Sterling nodded again.
“Of course it’s okay. Let’s hear them.”
“Well, I know that some restaurants have Braille menu options. Is that something you use?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know how to read Braille. I was never interested in learning; partly because I lost my sight after I’d learned to read regular text, and I didn’t want to start all over. But also because there is so much technology available that Braille isn’t used as much anymore; I’ve got voice-activated GPS and internet, a phone that reads texts to me, audio books, and descriptive movies and television. Actually, only about ten percent of blind people use Braille."
"Oh wow," I replied as I took a piece of bread from the basket. "That's interesting." I had no idea; I thought the patterns were more widely used.
"I do use patterns of my own, though."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I can't see to choose my clothing, but I can tell what some pieces are because of the way the fabric feels. But to tell the difference between two pairs of jeans, for example, I've had buttons sewn into the back waistband; a small button means that the jeans are light colored denim, and a large button tells me that they're a dark color."
"That's genius," I replied seriously, but Sterling waved me off.
"Nah, I've just learned a few tricks over the years."
"Well I still think it's incredible," I insisted, receiving a smile. "I also think it's incredible how you use your other senses to judge your surroundings. I've always heard that if a person loses one sense, their other ones get stronger."
Sterling bobbed his head left to right. "I wouldn't say they get stronger, necessarily. It's more like the person who loses one sense becomes more aware of their other senses. They learn to use them better."
"That makes a lot of sense…no pun intended." Sterling chuckled at my dumb joke. It did make sense, though; I could see my surroundings, so I may not stop to take notice of their smell or sound. I tended to take those senses for granted because I had my sight.
Which brought up another question; the question I'd had on my mind since our meeting, but had been too nervous to ask. But I also didn't want Sterling to think I didn't care. I was curious about his story because I cared about him. So, I took a deep breath, hoped that I didn't cross a line, and asked, "How did you lose your sight?" When Sterling's smile waivered, I quickly added, "You don't have to answer that."
"No, I knew this was coming and I want to answer. It's just a little difficult to talk about." He slipped his left hand beneath the tabletop, and I knew he was petting Cooper because I heard the dog's tail thumping gently against the floor. Sterling was drawing comfort from his friend. I wanted to support him too, so I reached across the table and took his other hand, receiving a squeeze of appreciation.
He began with a sentence I wasn’t expecting. “I told you that I went to school at North Point. Since you know about them, you probably know that they offer a lot of sports; football, baseball, basketball, golf…pretty much anything you can think of.”