Sylvia

MEETING SYLVIA

In the morning, I'm walking back from my local corner shop with a bottle of milk when I see a pretty young woman with a white cane walking quickly to the bus stop. The bus that is there pulls away. "Bugger!" she shouts.

I walk up to her. "What's wrong?"

"Was that the 260?"

"Yes."

"Damn, I'll be late for work. The next one is in 15 minutes, but then I'll miss the connection to my second bus."

"Maybe not, I live a block away. I can drive you."

"Oh no, don't bother."

"It's no bother. I have nothing to do today. What's your name?

"Sylvia."

"I'm Mary. Stay there, I'll be right back."

I hear her object as I'm jogging to my car, but I pay no attention. I start my car, pull around the block and park in the bus zone. I jump out and lead her into my car.

I pull up to a parking zone and ask for her work address and enter it into my phone, which is in its cradle. I proceed as directed by my map app.

"Mary, you don't have to do this. I would have been all right."

"But late," I say. I ask, "What do you do for work?"

"I'm a call centre operator."

"How long have you worked there?"

"Six months."

"Can you see at all?"

"Only light and dark and a bit of motion around the edges. I could see until a year ago. Just after my high school graduation, I got macular degeneration. Within six months I could barely see and now I can't.

"Damn. Rotten luck."

"Yeah, I was thinking about being a doctor but that's out now."

"Aw."

We proceed in silence for a few minutes, except for the directions from my app. I look over at her at a red light. I had only seen her as a person needing help before, but now I see her as a young woman with a pretty face and a lovely slim body, and I start getting interested.

"General Services?" I ask as the app says I'm at my destination.

"That's it."

I pull into the driveway and park in the space nearest the entrance, which is the handicapped space. I figure I'm only here for a few minutes, and she's handicapped, so I don't sweat it.

"What time do you start?"

"9."

"It's 12 minutes to. Can we talk for a few?"

"Okay. Thanks so much. You didn't have to do this."

"No, I didn't have to. I

wanted

to. And I'm glad I did. I like you, Sylvia and I admire you."

"Why?"

"Because when life took away your dream, you didn't just wallow in pity. You took control and learned how to do what you can."

"Well, yeah."

"Many wouldn't have. My mum died two years ago and I haven't done anything but potter with my photography hobby. And another thing, you are very pretty."

"Aw, thanks."

She smiles. "Oh yes, especially with that lovely smile. May I take your photo?"

"Uh, okay."

I get my phone out of the cradle and say, "Okay, big smile, pretty girl."

She grins and I take the photo.

"Perfect. Now, can you read texts?"

"Yes, my phone can read them out."

"Great, may I have your number?"

"Uh sure."

She gives it to me and I send a quick text. Her phone beeps.

"That's me. Now you have my number. You'd better go now. What time do you get off?"

"5:30. Why?"

"I'll pick you up."

"Oh no, Mary you've done too much already."

"Nonsense. I want to. Sylvia, please, don't argue. I'll be here."

She opens the door and climbs out. "Is this the handicapped spot?"

"Yes."

"I can go from here."

I'm impressed that with sweeping motions of her cane she heads right for the entrance.

MY FACE FOR SYLVIA

I watch her effortlessly walk in, imagining how helpless I would be without my sight. I stare at her photo and glow. My feelings are stirred up. Yes, she's good looking and that gets my libido going, but there's a lot more to her. I drive home slowly, thinking about her.

Once at home I search for information on macular degeneration and how blind people organise their lives. I read about cane use, options for using a phone and a computer and other aspects of life.

I look at her photo again and dream of kissing her. I am then sad that she can't see my face. I search again and learn that blind people "see" a face by touching it. I'll make a point to invite her to do that when I pick her up.

Then it occurs to me that although I can look at her photo any time, she can't see me unless I'm with her. That makes me frown again.

I start my coffeemaker and ponder the question while it drips away. I go back to my computer and search for faces and browse the images. No inspiration. I try masks, and an image spurs a thought. What about a 3-D printer?

I try to think if I know anyone with access to one. I scroll through my contact list and call someone I was in a photo class with.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Sonya?"

"Yes."

"This is Mary. We took a photo class last year. Do you remember me?"

"Oh, sure. Hi. How are you?"

"I'm great. Say I'm looking for someone who has access to a 3-D printer. Do you have any idea who might?"

"Well, girl, this is your lucky day! I just happen to be taking a course in it."

"Shut up, seriously?"

"Yes, Mary."

"Wow, um, is there any chance you could make something for me?"

"Yeah, we can use the printer. There's a fee for the time and materials but it's pretty reasonable."

"Wow, this would mean a lot to me. Any chance we could do it today?"

"Lucky again. I'm in the lab from 2 to 4 this afternoon. We're supposed to do anything that takes our fancy. What did you have in mind?"

"My face."

"Yeah, we can do that."

"Oh, I'll owe you big time, Sonya."

"I'll remember that, Mary."

She gives me the address and I'm on cloud nine until then. I almost forget to have lunch.

At 2:00 I meet Sonya and we go into the lab. She has me sit in a chair and sets up a rotating video camera.

"This takes a 360° scan and puts it into the computer. Then we feed that into the printer. Now breathe deeply several times then take in a shallow breath. Hold it, smile, keep your head very still and don't blink." I do that and the camera makes a circular transit.

"Okay, let's look at the image. Yeah, good enough. What is this for?"

I don't want to admit to my real purpose. "It's for trying something out."

"Whatever. Now, all-white is the cheapest. Colour is very expensive."

"White is fine."

"Do you need the full head or just the face contours?"

"Uh, just the face."

"Good, that will be quicker and cheaper. Okay, give me a few minutes to set it up, then I can start it and we can get a cup of coffee while it's working and we can catch up." She fiddles around and then the printer starts whirring and clicking.

"Okay let's go. This will be about twenty minutes."

We go to the café and gab about our lives. I say I'm trying photography, maybe model shoots. I don't mention my pets, of course.

We go back and the printer is just finishing. She removes the result, gives it a quick polish, holds it up to my face and says, "Hey, it looks like you!"

I look at it and say, "Oh thank you so much, Sonya. This means a lot to me."

"You're welcome. Let's see, the cost is $32."

I give her $100 and say, "Keep the change."

"Okay, hey I could use this as my class project. Mind if I make another copy for it? I might do the whole head."

"Why not? I'll be immortalised," I say with a grin. "Thank you ever so much."

TAKING SYLVIA HOME

I look at the copy of my face in the car. I'm amazed at 21

st

-century technology. A sculptor would have spent days getting this done. I drive home and look for a box to protect it.

I drive to Sylvia's workplace and park near the door, but not in the handicapped space. I get out and nervously pace outside the entrance. When she comes out, I say, "Hi, Sylvia, I'm here."

"Oh, Mary, you are too good to me."

"Can I guide you to my car? It's not where it was this morning."

"Okay, here's what helps. Hang your arm by your side and hold it still but not too rigidly. I'll hang onto it and we can walk slowly." I follow her directions and stop her by the passenger door. She finds the door handle. "I can do it from here." She deftly gets in, reaches for and closes the door, and puts on her seatbelt.

I get in the driver's side. I take a few deep breaths before saying, "Sylvia, I read some things about blindness this afternoon. One of the things I read is that you can see my face by touch. I love seeing your pretty face, and I've been gazing at your lovely photo all afternoon."

"Aw, Mary."

"And if you want, I'd be honoured for you to touch my face and see me."

"Really? Most people get creeped out about that."

"I won't. I promise."

"That's so nice of you."

I turn my face to her and bring one of her hands to my face. She brings up the other hand and delicately feels the contours of my face. Her lovely touch excites me, and I gasp a little.

She pulls her hands away and says, "I'm sorry, was that too weird?"

"No, no, Sylvia, that's not it at all. I was reacting to your touch in a wonderful way. Please continue."

She returns her fingers and I smile. She traces the contours of my lips and smiles back. "You're smiling."

"Yes, Sylvia, I am. I am happy that I may have found a new friend."

She finishes and says, "Oh, Mary, thank you. I will try to remember what you look like."

I gaze at her beauty and soak in her strength of determination.

"Actually, Sylvia, I have a gift for you."

"A gift? Oh, Mary, you are too much. What have I done to deserve this?"

I think for a moment. "What you have done today, Sylvia is to show me that when you have an insurmountable hurdle put in front of you, you refuse to let that stop you from living. You detour around it and start on an alternate path to being a complete person. I am so inspired by you. I really am."

"Well, what choice did I have?"

"You could have retreated and given up. But you never considered that."

"True."

I reach into the back seat and get the box. I hand it to her and say, "Now, take the top off but don't reach inside yet." She removes the top and I take it from her.

"Now with your right hand, touch my face again." I guide it to me. "With your left hand, feel what's in the box."

She feels both for half a minute before realising what's in the box. She traces over both and exclaims, "It's you! Oh, Mary, it's like I have a photo of you. How did you do this?"

"I have a friend who made it for me with 3-D printing."

She takes her hands and holds them over her eyes and starts to cry. "Oh, Mary, this is the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me."

"I'm happy you like it."

"Oh, yes, oh Mary, Mary, Mary."

"Let me take it and put it in the back seat."

"No, I want to feel it on the way home."

"Oh, okay."

I ask for her address and put it into my map app. It's only a few blocks from my house. I start the car and drive her there. I look over and she's tracing her fingers over it constantly, memorising my face.

I park in the driveway and say, "We're here."

"Oh, Mary. I can't believe you. You're an angel. Are you real?"

"Yes, Sylvia, I'm very real."

"Will you come in? I want Mum to meet you."

I'm taken aback, not quite expecting that, but I say, "Sure. Um, I'll take the face in its box for you."

I guide her to the footpath leading to the door. She charges forward with her cane, gets her key out and unlocks and opens the door.

SYLVIA'S MOTHER

Sylvia walks into her house and calls out, "Hi, Mum, I'm home." A slightly stocky, butch-looking woman steps into the lounge room.

"Hi, Sylvia. Oh, you brought a guest?"

"Mum, I want you to meet Mary. She helped me out this morning. I missed my bus and she happened to be there and drove me to work. And she picked me up from work, too."

Sylvia's mum looks me up and down, saying in a dubious tone of voice, "How nice of you, Mary."

"It was no trouble, Ms, uh..."

"Ms Jackson."

"Ms Jackson. I had all day free."

"I see."

"Oh, Mum, she's so nice, she even made this for me today," Sylvia says as she turns toward me and holds out her hands to take the box. She gets the face out and shows it to her mum.

"What is it?"

"It's a 3-D of Mary's face. It's like a photo for me. I can feel it and see her."

"How nice," Ms Jackson says, even more dubious, staring at me.

"Well, I'm going to go change out of my work clothes," Sylvia says as she flounces down the hallway.

"Sylvia?" her mum shouts.

"Yes?"

"Can you stay in your room? Mary and I need to talk."

"Okay."

Ms Jackson and I look at each other. Finally, I say, "Sylvia is quite something. I'm impressed that she's learned to be so independent in so short a time."

She gazes harshly at me, peering deep into me. "I

know

you."

"Pardon? You know me?"

"Not personally, but twenty-odd years ago I was you, so yeah."

In my confusion, I blurt, "Uh, what do you mean?"

She sits on one end of a sofa and gestures to the other end. "Sit, Mary, we need to talk."

"Uh, okay." I'm compelled by her directive manner to sit and listen.

"Sylvia is fantastic. She was second in her graduating class, and had great plans to study at university before her sight went."

"Yes, she mentioned that to me."

"I pick up a very controlling vibe from you, Mary, and I'm worried for Sylvia that you are going to exploit her. I sense that you have used people for your own purposes and then discarded them when you got bored. I was that way myself when I was young, and I fear that you are the same way.

"I've been a lesbian all my life, and like you, I have a controlling nature. I sense that you have designs on Sylvia. She's naïve and vulnerable. She's never had a girlfriend or even a boyfriend. I feel she's gone crazy for you after only meeting you this morning. I don't want her to get hurt.

"If she weren't eighteen, I'd forbid her to see you, but if I tried that now, she'd probably rebel and be careless. But I'll tell you right now, Mary, if you hurt her, there will be hell to pay."

I'm taken aback by this attack. "Wow, uh, is there anything else you want to say?"

"I'll wait to see what you have to say, Mary."

"Give me a minute. You've just accused me of a serious crime." I go over what she said and think about myself, comparing the two. I take a breath and respond.

"You are 80% correct about me, Ms Jackson. I will confess that. But may I explain without being interrupted?"

"Please do."

"My dad died about six years ago, and right after I graduated from high school, my mum died. I have no other family. I was alone. Because my dad had paid off the mortgage on the house and I had a substantial inheritance, I was financially set for life. Being eighteen, I was considered an adult, so nobody offered me any emotional support, and I was a wreck.

"I wallowed in pity for several months, then when I decided to start getting out, I trawled the lesbian bars. I found them to be horrible scenes, but my desperation drove me into them. I had numerous one-night stands, sometimes even getting off in the bar's toilet with someone I just met.

"I then met an older woman who seemed like a friend. We became lovers, and then, I guess because I was feeling inadequate, I started controlling her, making her do anything I wanted. I was awful to her, treating her with contempt and degrading her verbally and physically. She seemed to like it at first, but I got worse and worse and she left me.

"I was distraught. Controlling her gave me a thrill that filled my emptiness, if only superficially. Without that outlet, my pain was exacerbated. I cruised for a little while longer before an old friend begged me to get psychological help.

"I tried a few therapists, most of whom didn't understand me but just served up platitudes. But then I found one who got me. After a few sessions, she admitted to me that she was a lesbian dom, and loved to have pets. But what she instilled in me that I had never had before was a sense of empathy.

"She taught me how to think about others' feelings, and to put myself inside them to fully appreciate the effects of my actions. After many sessions with deep introspection in between, I came to understand why control satisfies me so much. But I also learned the extreme importance of kindness.

"I still enjoy controlling, but it is strongly tempered by kindness. Yes, I have pets, but I treat them very well and make sure that they are enthusiastic participants. Now before you panic, I absolutely do not view Sylvia as my next pet. She's a creature I have never encountered before, and as of this morning, she has turned my life upside down.

"I witnessed her steely determination to plough through life despite the obstacle her blindness has presented. She gave me a brief history on the drive this morning, and I am so impressed that in such a short period of time she has gotten a job that she can do well and that she navigates via public transport.

"I have no doubt that she will succeed in achieving success. Today, she has inspired me to look at myself and consider doing something beyond wallowing in pleasure and living off my inheritance.

"After dropping her off, I went home and searched for information on macular degeneration, to get a sense of what she's gone through. I remembered her skilled use of the cane, and I learned several things about how blind people work around their inconvenience.

"One of those was how they see others' faces, by feeling with their fingers. Today I contacted someone I had taken a photography course with, and it turns out that she's taking a course in 3-D printing. She was able to scan my face and make a plastic replica so Sylvia has the equivalent of a photo of me.

"I know this has all happened quickly, and I'm overwhelmed by the effects that Sylvia has had on me. But even though this is new emotional territory for me, I'm head over heels for your amazing daughter.

"Please trust me when I say that I consider her very precious. I would never hurt her. If I ever did, I would want you to whip me to death."

I sigh heavily, having exhausted my store of thoughts and my emotions. We look at each other. Her look is a bit softer as she says, "Well, that's quite a story, Mary. If that's all true, then I understand you a bit more. But I reserve the right to be sceptical."

"Yeah, I get that, Ms Jackson. Yes, I'm somebody who doesn't hesitate to ask for what I want. But I promise you that I have learned my lesson and won't repeat my callous ways of the past. And I feel like something deep might develop between Sylvia and me. She's not just a fling for fun."

She sighs deeply. "I guess we'll see. I've been so protective of Sylvia, especially this last year. She is growing up, though, and she's not a child anymore. It's hard to let go, though. I suppose you want to talk with her now."

I smile and say, "Yes, I'd like that very much."

I get up and walk down the hallway.

OPENING UP TO SYLVIA

"Sylvia?" I call out.

"In here."

"May I come in?"

"Of course."

I open the door, go through and close it behind me. Sylvia is lying on her bed in a tracksuit, her head resting on a pillow. She's feeling the copy of my face and then she sets it on her bedside table.

"What were you and Mum talking about? You were out there a long time."

"It's a long story."

"Obviously." She pats the bed beside her and says, "Lie beside me and tell me all about it."

I hesitate, thinking that telling her everything will frighten her off. But her insistent demeanour and her pleading face force me to relate the whole story.

I then say, "I've told you all this, Sylvia, because I want to be completely honest with you about who I've been. But I also want to say that as of today, meeting you has started changing me. I'm not sure who I'm becoming now, but it feels wonderful and exhilarating."

I stop talking. She has been gazing at me, trying to take in what I've said.