Author's Notes: This story is based on true events. I have changed some situations around for a better flow and changed all the names to protect those involved, but that's it.
Thanks to those who helped make this a much better read. You know who you are.
All participants are 18 or above.
*****
"Uni will be rough," my former English teacher had cautioned me. "There will be no special treatment for you. You'll have to give 110 percent. But I know you can manage." She had hugged me back then and went back to the bar for a refill of her beer glass. My girlfriend, Sarah, shot me a long, hard look.
"What?" I asked her. Hanging around the Abiturparty wasn't my idea of fun either. Most of my friends were too busy for a proper goodbye, it was too loud, too crowded and the idea that my school days, generally smooth sailing, were over and I was to attend University was a huge, looming spectre. My teacher's words weren't helping at all. You see, I'm nearly blind, with about two percent of eyesight remaining. In my case it means usable vision out to about ten feet, in colour and on both eyes. I can read printed material, if the script is large enough. Going from an environment which was tailor-made for people like me into the wilds of University, with their huge auditoriums and possibly dozens, if not hundreds of people attending the same course wasn't something I really looked forward to.
"I was wondering if she wanted to kiss you goodbye," Sarah hissed. "You two were awfully comfy."
"Don't be ridiculous," I told her, killing the rest of my Coke. She had been extra-jealous the whole evening through, little barbs flying each time when I tried to say my goodbyes and I ended up in a hug or a smooch to the cheek. By now, we'd been together for about two years and I had always been faithful. Her jealousy was totally uncalled for and so unlike her. Normally, Sarah was a sweet, caring girl and the main reason I was still in Marburg, a small university town in Hessen, Germany.
I had been at Blindenstudienanstalt Marburg, a boarding school for blind and visually impaired kids, the last seven years, up until I finished my Abitur. Directly afterwards, I had applied for English Literature and Media studies at Marburg University, starting in the winter semester 1996/1997.
My parents hadn't been very happy when I confronted them with my wish to stay in Marburg instead of returning home, to work at my father's place. In fact, they refused to support me with any kind of money. Maybe they thought I'd eventually give up and crawl back home. So, instead of renting a room in a Uni dorm, which would have eaten up what little money the government paid to support students, I moved into a sleazy apartment building. I had no intention of going back home.
And then it was Monday, the first day of University. I had spent the weekend learning the route to the Language Tower, the building which housed, among others, the English faculty and classrooms. From the bus stop, it was a ten-minute walk along the bank of the river Lahn. But the last leg of the way, finding the classroom for my Reading Comprehension class, I had to do the hard way since the building had been locked up for the weekend.
Amongst droves of other freshmen, I made my way towards the Language Tower, my cane leading the way. Once inside, things got very crowded. Either the other students hadn't seen blind people before or they just didn't care, but finding "my" classroom turned out to be a major chore. No one seemed to have time to stop and help me, and I got jostled time and time again. Fearing for my cane, I folded it in half, so that no one would trip and break their necks, which made things even more complicated, because now it wasn't that obvious that I was blind. I used my ears more than my eyes, following a bunch of people animatedly chatting about what they were expecting from their first couple English courses.
Keeping close to them, I found the stairwell leading up to the English faculty and made my way towards the classroom. Most of the seats were taken when I came in, leaving only the seat closest to the professor's desk. I flopped down onto the chair and checked my watch. It was ten past nine and the professor hadn't appeared yet. Good. I wanted to leave a decent impression, that I was able to get my shit together as well as any sighted person.
"Excuse me, mind if I sit here?" The voice yanked me from my thoughts. It had a hint of a Saxon accent and was very smooth, silky almost. I looked up. The voice belonged to a gorgeous redhead, easily six feet tall, her red curls halfway down her back. She wore mostly black with bits of purple. Most seats were taken by now, only the one next to me remained empty.
"Sure, be my guest," I said, indicating the empty chair. She sat down and I could see the friendly smile playing around her lips. Things got a little crowded as she wriggled out of her bag's shoulder strap and placed her bag under the chair. I got a whiff of her perfume, a slight note of patchouli.
"Sorry," she said, again looking straight at me. Her eyes were emerald green. Cat's eyes, burning with intensity. Then she closed her fingers around my hand. "I'm Sylvia."
"Nice to meet you," I said, changing my grip to a more traditional hand shake. "Chris."
"The pleasure is all mine." Her purr sent shivers down my spine. I wondered what that gorgeous woman saw in me. I had just turned nineteen and was, visually speaking, hardly exciting. At five-ten and a hundred thirty-odd pounds, I was a hand shorter than her. Granted, I had broad shoulders from all the sports they had us do at Blista, my old school. I wore my hair long, to show my devotion to my favourite music. If she liked heavy metal, too, that might have helped. She sounded like she had just found the man of her dreams, and I hardly felt like I fit the role.
"Good morning, class," a distinct voice with a strong Oxford accent said in English, pulling me out of my thoughts. A small man with a ring of white hair around his bald pate, wearing a pair of glinting round spectacles, had entered the room and put some items onto his desk. What he lacked in stature, he made up with attitude. His voice was loud and demanded respect.
"I am Professor Kaiser, your instructor for this course. Before we begin, a few ground rules. Class starts at nine-fifteen, at which time I will check for attendance. Anyone who comes in later will not be noted down on the attendance sheet. We are all adults here and as such I'm expecting a measure of responsibility. Next, all talking will be done in English, no exceptions. Practice makes perfect after all. Use of dictionaries is allowed and encouraged, but I hope by the time we'll wrap this up in six months, you'll be fluent enough to get your points across. And don't expect any slack from my colleagues either," he said grimly when some students groaned.
"Pussies," Sylvia whispered my way. I nodded in assent. Why would you go studying English when your command of the language wasn't up to scratch?
Professor Kaiser went on, "This course is labelled as 'Reading Comprehension', but I think since we're all new here, we should use this occasion to get to know each other a little better. Who wants to go first?"
Silence greeted him. From my vantage point, I couldn't see anyone raising their hands. But then, I could hardly see past Sylvia or the professor.
"No volunteers?" Kaiser looked pointedly around the room. "Well then. You there." He pointed. "Stand up, man."
I heard a chair scrape across the floor. "Umm. Hi. My name is Markus. I am twenty-one years old. I am from Marburg and I want to be a teacher."
"With his attitude, his future students will laugh him out of class," Sylvia whispered. I had to fight to keep a straight face.
"Thank you. Who's next?" Kaiser looked around. Sylvia shot me a fleeting smile, then raised her hand.
"Please, by all means," Kaiser said. Sylvia gracefully rose.
"My name is Sylvia. I'm twenty-six and originally from Dresden. My last lover moved here to work with a few friends so I joined him." She sounded a little bitter. "It didn't work out. So, instead of going back home, I've decided to stay here and continue with my education. My major is Law and I'm doing English just for credit. Besides English, I speak German and Russian and I love to dance." She spoke fluently, without any hesitation. I liked her slight accent, neither British nor American. She sat down again.
"Now you," Sylvia said, challenging me with a smile.
"Why?" I whispered back.
"You'll have to eventually, and I'd like to know my seat neighbour a little better. Humour me. Please."
