Chapter 2

There they were, three men watching me from the edge of the field and, I suddenly realized, calling me. Of course I didn't hear the calls but I saw their mouths moving and their arms waving. They were close enough that I could see their faces, close enough that I knew they weren't shouting in anger, but only calling me, presumedly calling out a question or greeting. More curious than afraid, although of course way, I beckoned them closer.

For a moment they looked at one another, then headed towards me, their long strides crossing the distance of the valley between the mountains of trash and vegetation. I put down the crate and adjusted my visor, which had slipped down while I was pulling weeds. As I stood watching their approach, I tried to ready myself for anything they might throw at me -- literally. My right hand fingered the large knife I always kept on my belt or elsewhere on hand. I had been attacked before, albeit years earlier, and I was always ready to defend myself. The knife also came in handy in many practical endeavors, like killing animals or cutting open boxes I'd find digging through the trash.

In a few moments the three men were upon me. They were a magnificent group, the one immensely tall with hair of flames, the other two, seemingly twins, with spiky black hair. All three wore practical, non-descript outfits, rough-lived black jeans and T-shirts. The twins' arms were covered in tattoos and all three of them had ears studded with jewelry. When they came to a halt before me, we eyed each other as if we were two groups of animals meeting in a field, which literally we were.

The redhead spoke. From his facial expression I could tell he'd asked a question. Since I had never spoken or been trained, I didn't have much ability to read lips, but despite that I could make out one word I'd learned to recognize -- "you." (This was something I must have learned very early on in life, since as far as I knew I'd always been able to associate those particular mouthshapes with someone talking about me.) I presumed, based on the fact that they'd called me before and I hadn't responded for some time -- they could have been calling me for a long time before I even noticed them -- that he was asking me if I was deaf. "Are you deaf?" had always been a frequent question, I assume.

Of course now that the question was being asked, as usual I couldn't answer it except by employing the universal language of gesture. Taking my hand off my knife, I pointed to my ears and shook my head.

They gave each other puzzled looks. Next the redhead took a step or two forward, so that he was almost within arm's length. My hands were relaxed in front of me. Just from seeing his expression, I didn't feel I would be needing my knife. He looked at me seriously and brought his hand up and pointed to one of my ears. He then shook his head and asked me another question. This time I was sure the question was "Are you deaf?" and so I nodded vigorously and covered my ears for emphasis.

As this dialogue progressed I felt myself becoming excited. I hadn't seen any other people in so long and the ones I had seen certainly hadn't been friendly. This man seemed open, caring. He was talking to me the way my mother always had, using gestures and lots of patience.

Next the redhead pointed to my head and then he nodded a couple of times. In that gesture I sensed several questions: Can you understand me? Does you head work? Are you OK? To all these questions and some others, unvoiced, I nodded and then smiled. In the context of what I was used to, the entire situation was very curious -- strange men appearing and then simply just talking to me -- but at the same time, I was feeling very comfortable. I didn't get the feeling I would be mistreated. It seemed these men were only curious and friendly.

It was at that point that my questioner then very deliberately stepped even closer and, raising his hand very slowly, gauging my reaction, reached up and lifted off my hat and visor. Unbound, my full white hair fell loose around the sides of my face. My eyes, I'm sure, flashed pale and pink, a sight that never fails to induce a reaction.

I watched the man's amber eyes as he stared at me in total wonder -- before he went even further. Again moving slowly, he stretched out his hand and stroked the hair from my temple to my ear and then ran his fingers down my cheek, where he let them rest it for a moment, just lightly, as if he was appreciating me.

That touch was a revelation. I had been alone for a couple of years and the last touches I had received certainly had not been made in friendship, but rather in cruelty. Those were the touches of assault, robbery, and rape. This was something entirely different, a touch of understanding and affection. It reminded me of my mother. Despite eventually having to abandon me, she had always done what she could for me and she had always touched me, running her fingers through my hair, telling me I came from the moon.

Yes, this redhead... was different. He wasn't going to attack me, I knew. I saw promises in his eyes.

He turned his head to glance back at his companions. They nodded. He looked back to me and asked, it was clear to me, if I would like to come with them. Of course I couldn't tell what he actually said but I knew from his gestures. I just knew.

I considered matters. By my own wits I had managed to make a good life for myself in the dump. I had shelter, ample food, and safety. I even managed to have clothes, salvaged from the trash, and a store of other useful items, all stored away in my shelter.

Still, I was lonely, and until I saw these men, I hadn't even realized it. In just a few moments I'd gone from being totally absorbed in pulling weeds to feeling excited and tingly at the prospect of making some friends. Could I leave my good life behind and follow these strangers to who-knew-where?

These considerations took but a few seconds but I think it must have been a second too long, for with no warning at all, the redhead took the last step forward, closing the gap, and planted his lips on mine. All at once I knew that wherever we were going, there'd be a lot more than beans and tomato plants to enjoy.