Page 48 of Give Me a Sign
He nods several times and turns to me. “My favorite one.”
Lilah:Okay, favorite color?
Isaac:Green. And yours is purple.
He looks up and points to my hearing aids, purple hair tie, and several of the bracelets on my wrist.
My hand shakes as I sign, “See, you do know me...”
I quickly second-guess myself. Why did I reference that night? But... is that a faint blush rising on his cheeks? He looksaway from my eyes and buries his face in his phone to type something else. I’m somewhat relieved when it’s just another question.
Isaac:Now the most important: Cubs or Sox?
Lilah:Go Cubs go
Isaac:Whew, we couldn’t share this tree otherwise
Lilah:But that’s not a Cubs hat?
I point to the baseball cap he’s wearing, which despite being the same blue color, has a cursiveLon the front, rather than aC. I’ve been curious about it all summer.
Isaac:My Dominican team, los Tigres del Licey. I go to games when I visit my grandparents.
Lilah:Very cool. You know Spanish?
Isaac:Trilingual, what up
So he lip-reads not only one spoken language but two. Meanwhile, I opted out of foreign-language classes because the listening components proved impossible. I’m impressed and must be staring at him in amazement because he nods to ask “What?”
Lilah:Dang you’re so smart. Yet we’re here texting because I’m not good enough at sign yet.
Isaac:You’re picking it up fast! Sometimes it helps to have a break
Lilah:Yeah but I feel like I should already be fluent and it really bothers me that I’m not
Isaac:Even in the beginning you were already signing with me. So many people I know at school don’t even bother to try, they just talk to me by writing.
Lilah:Which is what we’re doing right now...
Isaac drops his phone to his lap again and grins. “Okay, let’s sign. What’s up?”
“Eek,” I say, dropping my phone as well. Okay, but what to sign? “We are in a tree.”
“Big tree,” he signs, blowing out his cheeks to denote size. “We are————in a big tree.”
I shake my head. Wait, didn’t Ethan just use that one? If I had to guess... “H-i-d—”
He nods immediately before I can even finish the word. “H-i-d-i-n-g, hiding.”
“We are hiding in a big tree,” I sign. He’s signing English for my benefit, but I appreciate him shifting methods with ease. “Lots of bugs.”
“Perfect for you, Bug.” He smiles, using my sign name.
“Not perfect if they bite me.”
“Need bug spray?”
“No, no.” I mimic spraying a canister, then hold my hands out to gesture the puffs of aerosol going into our faces in this small space. I briefly close my eyes and stick out my tongue dramatically while signing “Dead.”
