The Smell of Brown

I wake up in the comfort of my bed, soft silky sheets against my skin and the smell of a fresh morning fill my senses. I listen to the birds chirping outside my home without trouble and taste the cold air on my tongue. I sit up and rest my upper half against the bed frame, rubbing my eyes groggily. I feel the sensation of opening my eyelids, only to return to the normal dark void of vision.

I reach my hand out to the side table, searching for my walking stick and grabbing it frantically when it sways near the edge. I adjust its length to its fullest and get out of bed, walking to my closet with the tool in front of me. I put on a new shirt, imagining its color and design in my head. Maybe blue, filled with perfectly placed polkadots or straight lines with an even amount of space between.  

I rack my head back to reality, not wanting the daily depression of the absence of color to come back. I leave my room and go to the bathroom, hearing my parents argue downstairs with muffled voices. They rarely fight, so I concentrate on their voices in my silent mind. 

“What if he doesn’t like it, what if it has a negative impact on him!” my mother quietly exclaims.

“Linda, I think this is the best thing we can do for James. And if it doesn’t work, we can just send it back, okay?” my father replies.

“Fine, I’ll give it a week and then we can decide,” she ends the conversation.

I furrow my eyebrows, wondering what this “it” being sent to us will be. I enter the bathroom and face the mirror, only seeing a shadowy darkness instead of an unknown face. I grab my hairbrush off the shelf and brush through my thick hair. I place my hand in its tangled curls and feel its soft strands. When I am done, I brush my teeth, leaving the world to go into my restless mind.

When everything is dark and you can’t see a world around you, you stay hidden in your mind. You think about the world, what you’re missing, but also what you hear, smell, feel, and taste. When I lost my sight at six years old, my other senses heightened. It was like I could hear the still air and feel my parent’s presence. The whole world inverted to an unrealistic atmosphere where I didn’t know the right direction.

When I finished, I went downstairs to meet my parents for breakfast. 

“Hi honey,” my mom said. I could hear her holding something back, and I assumed it was what she was talking about earlier. “We need to tell you something, it’s for your 17th birthday tomorrow.” I smile and shake my head.

“Yes, as a gift,” my father parts in. “We are getting you a service dog!”

My smile quickly drifts off my face. “Like, a dog for the blind? A lead dog!” I say, allowing the surprise to haunt my voice. 

“Honey, we want to see the impact this dog will have on our life. Your life! So, we are going to accept this dog for a week and then see if it will be a permanent adjustment to our family,” my mom responds.

“Okay, fine!” I say, leaving it at that until we leave for the service animal training center an hour later. My father drives as I silently sit in the back, thinking as usual. I fidget with my closed up walking stick, waiting and waiting for a slow halt of the car. When it comes, I open the car door and adjust the stick in front of me. 

We go inside the building and my ears are hit with sudden barks and cries from well-trained dogs. I smell wet dogs, and scrunch my nose, but shake it off my face when I feel the presence of another person.

“Hello, you must be Linda and Keith Robertson, I am Jessie. And this must be your son James. My name is Jessica, but you can call me Jessie. I’ll be taking you to meet your new service dog and oversee the initial reaction and introduction,” an assumable young woman says. I smile at her precious voice and nod at her words. 

My family and I follow her into a separate room, and I notice another presence in the room, but this time a smaller figure with four legs. “This is Darcy, a chocolate lab who is two years old. She has been in the training program all of her life and has just been approved to become a lead dog.” 

I instantly get down on my knees and wait for the dog to come to me, but it doesn’t. “James, Darcy has been trained to follow commands, those of which I will teach you today. Tell her ‘come’ when you want her to come to you.”

“Come,” I say, as the dog slowly walks to me. My hands meat soft ears which I uncontrollably pet with ease. Over the next hour, Darcy and I bond while Jessie teaches me commands to use. As every minute passes, I grow a liking for both the dog and the teacher, as we joke and talk with one another. I try imagining the color of her hair and eyes, but when I think of her in my head, I picture a brightness which lightens my heart from the everlasting darkness.

Once we finish, we leave with Darcy who lays her head on my lap. I have learned to walk with her and have grown a starting relationship, which is key for a successful service animal. When we arrived home, I brought the dog inside and straight for my room where she adjusted to the new setting. I lay on my bed with a smile, but the darkness fades into my mind again, leading to tiring thinking. Darcy jumps on my bed and nestles up against my chest. I smell her soft fur and listen to her tail weakly wagging. 

A chocolate lab, huh, I think. Then I think about the scent of Darcy, a sweet, happy smell that uplifts your heart in your chest. I wonder what the smell of brown is. Or the sound of red. What does blue feel like? What does yellow taste like?

From that day on, I imagined the world in colors I could comprehend. Emotions came on strong as well, what I felt towards Darcy was love and devotion, not in a romantical way, but a trusting relationship. Without her, the darkness that stayed within me would last forever. And, once every week, I had to go into the training center in order to receive personal training myself, therefore seeing Jessie. And she saw me for me, a person, just like her, only with the inability to see.

I dreamed of my future, with her and Darcy, and the life I could’ve had if I didn’t get that precious dog.

Oh, I think. What a wonderful scent, that smell of brown.