Easy Eyes

A man who has lost his sight misses the world more than a man who has never experienced it; at least that’s what Jafari says. Wesley was Jafari’s nephew and for the past 3 years, his caretaker—albeit, Jafari preferred him to identify as the former.

Jafari was sitting in the patio, staring out towards the beach he couldn’t see.

Wesley recalled their conversation years ago when he started as caretaker.

“You know how I lost my eyes?” Jafari asked.

“It was an accident when you were coaching football, wasn’t it?” Wesley noted the scars around Jafari’s eyes but didn’t dare to comment.

Jafari scowled, “That’s about 25% of the story. And it was basketball.”

“Well…” Wesley shrugged—an impulse he realized Jafari would not notice, and added, “I could’ve guessed there’s more to it. I don’t know.”

Jafari sighed, “Yes, I was trying out a new device. A virtual reality thing. It would allow you to track everything a player does on the court. They’d have little micro-cameras on their uniform. You could see everything they see. Analyse their movements, how they react. All that. It was ground-breaking stuff. But. The thing had faulty batteries. It exploded on my face halfway through the test.” He stopped, took a breath and continued, “I lost my eyes. The chemicals and the physical trauma did it. I lost my eyes.”

“What’s your vision like now?” Wesley asked.

“It’s like a blur. A haze over my eyes. I can still make out some shapes. I can perceive light. But there’s no clarity.”

Jafari rubbed the scars. 

Wesley was silent. Jafari had already told him not to say sorry. He’d heard it so many times it had become annoying. There was nothing to say.

Jafari puffed, “That’s how I got this nice beach house. I was gonna sue them for a lot of money, but they compensated me in private. Didn’t want the accident publicized I’m sure. And that’s why I hate technology. That’s why all the electronic stuff for you to use—the oven, the washing machine and all that is in the other house next door. That’s why I don’t even have light bulbs here.” He waved his hands around, “There’s the sun and there’s glass. What do those two give you?”

Wesley chuckled, “Light.”

Three years later, despite it all, Jafari took care of his body; his 6’5 frame was still toned. He did free weight exercises everyday and ran along the waterline. Wesley was also tall, 6’3 himself, but lanky. Both were dark-skinned. If you didn't notice the eyes or the slight height difference, the easiest way to tell them apart was the hair. Jafari’s was long and bushy, pulled into a ponytail that ran down his back. Of course, Jafari would not let hair clippers near him, so it was only a snip of the scissors now and then to maintain the length. On the other hand, Wesley’s hair was trimmed to near baldness.

Now Jafari had the chance to get it all back. Wesley was next to him, holding a box. On it, Easy Eyes Tech was emblazoned in red letters over a white and blue camouflage background. A picture of the goggles-like device was also on the side. It had taken weeks to convince Jafari to buy it.

Wesley extracted the device and examined it. He rested the box on Jafari’s lap.

Jafari slapped it away.

“It isn’t even in the box Jafa, I already took it out.”

Jafari mumbled something incoherent and Wesley continued, “It’s just like the pictures and videos. It looks kind of like goggles. The lens and the insides are different though. I’m not sure how to describe it, but I guess they tailor it for specific cases.”

Jafari grunted.

“Wanna try it out?” Wesley asked.

"No."

"Jafa—"

“Wes, if you try to put that thing on my face, I promise you I’ll break it.”

“But why? Jafa, this will help you.”

“I don’t care,” Jafari snarled.

“Please, Jafa. Just try?”

Jafari’s tone softened but the strain of anxiety was still present. “Listen Wes, I want to, but I can’t. You need to understand that.”

“Fine,” Wesley responded, “Let’s go down to the beach for a bit.”

The evening sun was blistering. Jafari shuffled around in the shallow water. while Wesley kept an eye on him from the shore.

“Ready to get out soon?” Wesley asked. “You’ll get sunburned again.”

“I don’t mind,” Jafari responded.

“Well I do,” Wesley retorted.

It seemed sometimes that Jafari enjoyed torturing himself. Sitting in the rain until Wesley dragged him inside. Drowning his food in pepper. Blasting ear-splitting rock or reggae when he was depressed. Almost as if it was a coping mechanism to ensure his other senses still worked.

“You should get in, swim a bit. Get some exercise,” Jafari commented. 

“The water’s shallow and it’s getting late. Let’s go inside Jafa. I’ll make you dinner. Guacamole and toast. You can sit on the patio while the sun sets.”

“Sure,” Jafari was despondent, “can’t say no to guac.”

Wesley took the finished plate from him, and returned clutching the goggles in his right hand.

Wesley laid his free hand on Jafari’s shoulder. “Describe the sunset Jafa. Tell me what you think it looks like.”

Jafari inhaled, puffed, and inhaled again. “Like a kaleidoscope but not quite. Maybe a gradient. Yes, yes, a gradient. A darkish blue that blends into dark purple. Purple into red, red into orange, orange into yellow.”

“Hmm,” Wesley murmured, “keep going.” He moved behind Jafari and held the device above his uncle’s head.

“Maybe the yellow part is like a line across the horizon. Because the sun—“

Wesley had started to slip the goggles over Jafari’s eyes when he grabbed his hand.

“What? Wesley!” Jafari shouted, struggling to push him off.

Jafari was strong, but Wesley was determined and held it in place. Jafari stopped struggling.

Wesley let go. “What do you see Jafa?”

“I-I-I see…” Jafari choked. His hands trembled as he extended his fingers to touch the goggles. He stroked the sides of them, sobbing. Wesley patted his shoulder, but Jafari stopped sobbing and erupted into laughter. Wesley froze in confusion.

“Wes, Wes,” Jafari said, “this damn thing just wiped my tears and dried them.” He continued laughing, “It wiped my tears. That’s crazy.”

Wesley laughed too, “It is. Very crazy.”

It made sense, having to remove the goggles for sweat or tears would be inconvenient.

“Do the sunsets always look like this?” Jafari asked.

Wesley grinned, “Yes, most of the time.”

“You were running a hoax here, huh. It’s nothing like what I described. It’s just some yellow and orange. Nothing fancy.”

“Reality is often disappointing,” Wesley commented, “or whatever it is the guy says in that old movie you like.”

“Indeed, and I’ve missed it,” Jafari quipped.

Jafari stood and strolled towards the beach. When he reached the edge of the water he hesitated and turned left, jogging along the shoreline. Seconds later he began to run, spin and flail his arms, while yelling at the top of his lungs.  

Wesley left him to it. Jafari wouldn’t need him anymore. He was like a child. A child with a new toy or a first experience. He was also a man. A man reborn, rejuvenated. A man given a chance to rediscover the world.