An Unseen Path

Emma felt the warmth of the sun on her face. She stood on the soft grass at Bear Grove Park, and took a deep breath of the crisp spring air. Being matched with a running guide that day was her first step on the road to running the Springfield marathon.

A sound of footsteps drew nearer. She was prepared for the fact that sighted people could be awkward in these situations. The Run Together foundation had given her his basic info, at least that was something to work with.

“Hello Andy,” she said, with a joyous optimism, as if she had heard fabulous things about him.

“Uh, hi!” He sounded more tentative than she hoped. 

“Have you ever been a visually impaired running guide?”

“This is the first time.”

“Well, you’re in good hands.” Emma giggled. Not taking things seriously helped others relax around her. “We’re going to be spending quite some time together. We’re going to get to know each other well.”

“That sounds good.”

“Good? Not amazing, or fabulous?” Emma challenged him.

“Those too.” He had a deep voice. She liked that. She wondered if he had blue or brown eyes. As for her own, retinitis pigmentosa had taken her vision at age 15. But she still spent a lot of time thinking about what other people looked like.

“You got any hobbies, Andy?” All she knew from his info was that he was a senior at Jacksonville High School

“Not really. Music?” he said. “Sorry, this wasn’t my idea. I didn’t want to come here.”

“So, why are you here?”

“It’s complicated.”

This wasn’t going anywhere. Emma thought it was time for a reset.

“I smell donuts in the lounge. Let’s go in and get something to eat before we start.”

Emma had memorized the path, the number of steps, the texture underneath her feet, every turn, from where she was standing to the lounge. She carefully made her way while Andy followed. 

Once they were inside, and he smelled donuts and coffee, Andy scurried off, leaving her alone in the dark. It happens. She stood there not moving

He soon returned. “Great donuts!” She could hear the food in his mouth.

“Can you get me one, Andy?”

“Which kind?”

“Chocolate old-fashioned.” 

She felt a whirl of air brush against her as he moved away.

“Now, slowly place it into my hands.” This is what she said when he was back again..

She felt the paper plate and delicately began to eat without dropping anything. The donut melted in her mouth; it tasted amazing. At least she still had taste, and touch, and hearing. Smell, that too.

When they were back outside, Emma began her carefully prepared introduction on how to be a visually impaired running guide. “Let’s try running together.” She grabbed his reluctant arm and pulled it in toward her. He resisted. “If you have to be here, you might as well cooperate. Now, I’ll hold on to your forearm and run behind you. You protect me.”

He did as he was told. “Is this right?” he asked, jutting his elbow out behind him.

“Perfect,” she said, holding on. “Let’s try moving very slowly, while you call out what you see coming, and count down how many steps it is.”

She felt him lurch to one side, and then another, and she followed. Soon they had found their rhythm, two people awkwardly jogging as one. Most people have a hard time trusting others, but over the last two years, Emma had learned to rely on strangers she couldn’t see. They almost never let her down, except for a few times that she didn’t want to think about. She didn't want to think every sighted person could be so cruel. But, thankfully, when she had been abandoned and lost, the AI on her mobile phone could help. It could slowly explain her surroundings to her until she got her bearing. How the visually impaired dealt with the outside world before mobile phones she couldn't imagine.

The paths in the park were smooth, and Andy directed her through a few gentle turns. She struggled to not speak her thoughts outloud about AI and everything else, but she had to stay quiet. You see, blind people talk all the time when they are together. This would take some getting used to.

“Curb coming up in 3, 2, 1,” Andy said. 

Emma braced herself and felt her foot hang in the air before hitting the pavement underneath.

“Good job, Andy. When in doubt, call it out.”

Next, Emma introduced Andy to running with a tether, a foot long elastic band they both held onto. She could feel from its pull where he was. They could run faster than when she was holding his arm. 

“Don’t be surprised If I bump into you once in a while.”

They picked up the pace, and soon Andy was gasping for breath as he called out turns and changes in the pavement.

“Out of breath over there?” she asked.

“A little.”

“Let’s take a rest.” They stood in the soft grass. She took off her shoes and felt the grass and the pebbles and the twigs between her toes. “You might get something out of this too. And, this is going much better than I expected.”

"It's going ok."

"You don't share much. You're like a building without windows."

"That's a funny thing for you to say," Andy chuckled, the first reaction she's gotten out of him so far. “It’s actually not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“So why did you need to come here to run with someone like me?”

“At school, someone called me weird, and I punched him. So, community service. You can't see my T-shirt but I'm kind of a manga fanatic.”

“Well, it sounds like he deserved to get punched. And I don’t think you’re weird at all,” Emma said. “Especially not compared to me. Sorry to hear about the community service.“

“Thanks, and I think the same about you,” Andy said. “Why do you want to run a marathon?”

“I love running. The sense of freedom,” Emma said, an also carefully prepared reply. Nothing could be further from the truth. She hated running. But, after Bethany in her class at the Illinois School for the Visually Impaired ran the marathon, and wouldn’t shut up about it, she needed to catch up.

Emma had an idea. Running guide training was to be held once a week on Wednesday, but if you don’t ask, you don’t receive. Her motto recently.

“What are you doing Saturday?” She could use Andy to see a few sights she normally doesn't get the chance to. And, there was a place she had in mind. One she hadn’t been to since she was 12 years old.

The next Saturday morning, Andy found himself at the Henson Robinson zoo. Emma held onto his elbow while he guided her around the different categories of fauna. She breathed in the musky smells of the animal enclosures-they were wonderfully exotic to her-as Andy described what the animals were doing.

“The lizards have red tails, and are clinging onto tree branches, ”

"What shade of red? Like in the crayon box."

"Brick Red," he said. "and on the gravel, some yellowish green snakes are just lying there."

“Lying in wait, for some blind animal to appear!” Emma laughed.

They moved to the primate area to see some more action. The chimpanzees’ piercing screeches echoed through the cement enclosure.

“Oh no, the monkeys are…” Andy gasped.

“Doing it?!”

“Yeah.”

Emma burst out in uncontrollable laughter. It reminded her of how awkward her first experience was. Elbows and knees poking everywhere. Running was actually a lot simpler.

She had noticed an unusual smell on Andy, something industrial.

"You smell like you came from a factory today."

"Oh? That must be motor oil. I was working on my motorcycle this morning."

"Take me for a ride sometime?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. But I'll think about it?"

Next Wednesday, when they met at the Bear Grove community center, Andy was a lot friendlier than the week before. About halfway into their training run, Emma tripped on an obstacle. She would say an unseen obstacle but that was every obstacle for her. When she stood up, she touched her cheek. Rough grit covered one side of her face. A stinging pain soon made itself felt.

“Are you ok, Emma?” his voice sounded worried. She wondered how bad her face was.

“I’m fine.” Emma said tersely. She couldn’t pretend to be happy after falling on her face.

“I’ll be more careful.”

After the fall, he was then overly careful about calling out each change in the pavement to the point of becoming annoying. And the fall had killed their vibe. They didn’t seem to have anything left to talk about. Andy robotically called out obstacles for the next 20 minutes, and the rest of the session was uneventful.

The idea of running a marathon blind was dumb. This was the idea going round and round in her mind. When they stopped, she felt the pull on the tether as he stood far away from her.

“From your silence, Andy. it feels like you’re not really into this?”

“I am,” Andy said. His voice was in the least enthusiastic tone she could imagine.

“If you’re just doing this for charity work, and, you let me fall down,” Emma said. “Why don’t you just leave me alone and find someone else?”

She could hear his feet scuffling. He didn’t say anything for a long time. The silence, and blackness, just went on and on. Emma was tired of leading every conversation.

One of the worst things about being blind was not being able to see people’s faces during an argument. You don't know if they are holding their head down in defeat, or sneering in contempt. It was depressing. Emma just wanted to go home.

“Take me back to the changing room.”

“Ok,” Andy said. “Turn 90 degrees to the left.” She felt a tug on the tether. “Now, 50 steps ahead.” 

“Thanks, Andy," she said, as she let go of the tether and felt her way into the changing room.

She texted Andy the next day and apologized.

The weeks went on like this, running together on Wednesdays and going to new places on Saturday mornings: shopping malls, amusement parks, the beach, a movie (Andy whispered in her ear what the actors were doing the entire film).

On a Wednesday morning in late June, the weather much warmer by then, in addition to his faint odor of masculine sweat, there lingered a new aroma. A cologne, she couldn’t quite identify which one.

“Good morning, Emma. You look great today,” Andy said. “Um, sorry, you know what I mean.”

“Thanks and aren’t you in a good mood today?”

“We are running so much better. Last week, we managed to do five miles in 45 minutes.”

After their successfully uneventful run with no collisions, they stood in the shade under a tree. She could hear the rustling of the branches above her. Andy said, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all week.”

“I think about you too, Andy. Our runs and adventures have been so fun.”

The was a long silence, she could hear him breathing.

He whispered. “I think I love you, Emma.” 

She wasn’t expecting this at all. “I like you too, Andy.” She admitted to herself she had thought about him. His scent and his voice were attractive. But he lived in a different world from hers, one that she couldn’t experience. She recalled what her first ISVI counsellor, Joan, had taught her: to embrace being blind, and to embrace the blind community. Her long pause had certainly given Andy the answer, not the one he was looking for.

Emma reached out and touched his face. There was a tear dripping down his cheek. She pretended not to notice.

“I like you a lot, Andy. But I think we are very different. And I already have a community of people like me," she said. “Maybe you’re feeling this way, because you’ve never been needed in the way I need you.”

“Maybe…”

“What you’ve been doing for me has been so great. I do need you. And appreciate you.”

“But…” Andy seemed lost for words.

“And women love to hear about guys doing charity work. Text me when you have a date and I’ll give you some pointers.” She embraced him, rubbing his shoulders and then letting go. 

“But…”

“See you next week!” She knew additional explanations wouldn’t make this any easier. Turning around, she headed toward the women’s changing room, a path she had memorized long ago. She felt a tear dripping down her cheek now too. She hoped no one would see it, especially not Andy.

That Saturday, Emma cancelled their trip to the botanical garden and made plans with her friend from ISVI.

In the following weeks, Emma and Andy continued to run together, but things had changed between them. There was a new sort of tension that hadn’t been there before. On the other hand, Andy was slowly opening up about himself and even learned how to tell a joke now and then. Maybe a woman has to be unattainable for a boy to relax? Emma didn't have the answer, this was all new to her too.

Over the next few months, she came to know Andy better than anyone else in her life. She could tell him things she wouldn't dare to tell even her closest blind friends. With this new understanding between them, she found herself texting him about things like the gossip at school, funny jokes she had, people she was angry at.

Every month at ISVI, Emma had a catchup with the school's counsellor Joan. The one who talked to her for hours two years ago when she had just lost her sight. She had sunk into a despair so deep, that carrying on didn't feel possible at the time. But as Joan promised , everything became easier over time. She remembered the first time she laughed. It was about four months later, and thought: I think I can make it.

"Joan, is it ok to spend a lot of time talking to and texting someone who can see?"

"You've been doing so well at ISVI and I've been happy to see your progress Emma. When I told you to embrace the blind community, that didn't mean to not also embrace the sighted community," Joan said. "People like me. And, your new friend, is it a boy?"

Emma smiled tightly. She didn't want to lie, but realized not answering also said something.

"If he treats you well, and doesn't disrespect your disability, there's nothing to stop you from being the same type of friends as anyone else."

"Thank you, Joan." Emma's mind buzzed with excitement. The journey to the Springfield promised to be an adventure. Running 10km would push her limits, but she was determined to finish. And Andy would be there to guide her on every step along the way. As she stepped outside, the wind rippled through her hair and the world felt newly alive and full of potential.