Blind of Nothing, A Short Story

“Alicia, hold my hand.” My older brother, Zachary commanded. I did as I was told, gripping his warm, soft glove in my bare, icy hands.
I could feel the fog of his breath near my face, his boots squeaked under his feet and I tried to hear mine. The sound came. A grinding, squeaking, crunching sound from underneath me. I smiled and laughed. Small, icy drops fell on my cheeks and eyelashes. I could feel them sticking and moved my free hand to brush them away. I stepped carefully, hearing a sloshing sound come from the direction of the road as a car went by. Something cold and firm smacked my chest.
“Caitlin, stop!” I heard my mothers voice from the porch or doorway.
When Zach stopped walking I bent down, being careful to keep my balance and felt the squeaking item. It was cold, icy, soft like downy cotton, smooth and easily moveable. I made a fist around it and picked it up. As I squeezed I felt the cold water run between my fingers and splash on my boots like rain. I laughed again. Suddenly, something hit me in the legs that sent me tumbling.
“Benjamin!”
A shock, stunned, angry and firm voice exclaimed. I felt myself, mainly my head and stood up slowly. Zach took my arm and half pulled me up. I shook my arm free and stood; face upwards, arms out, silent. Little things brushed my cheek like a single hair.
“Those are snowflakes Alicia.” My mother explained, somewhere near me.
I smiled again. Then bent down for a second time, brushing my fingertips along the blanket of snowflakes. It was as soft as a feather pillow, being brushed away gently. It was cold, like the ice water I drank in summer. It was indescribable. I stood again and did a slow circle, feeling the snow land on my cheeks, probably making them a nice rosy color. I put my hand in front of my mouth and felt the fog as I breathed out. Sticky warmth that only lasted a minute. I felt a small figure near the bottom of my thigh. I placed a hand where I guessed it was.
“Benjamin, do you like it.” I felt the top of his head move up and down, up and down, shaking ‘yes’.
I smiled.
“So do I.”
“But you can’t see it!” he exclaimed suddenly.
An arrow pierced my heart. So ignorant of my three year old brother. Normally he didn’t say it, but apparently he thought that the beauty of the snowflakes could only be seen, not felt, not heard, only seen. For a minute I wanted to slap him. Without knowing it, a tear edged out my eye. I moved to rub it away and felt Zachary’s hands on my shoulders.
“Alicia doesn’t need to see to feel. To touch, to imagine. There are other ways to see snow. Be kind Benny, be kind.”
I forced half a smile. That was my brother. Sixteen years old, smart, kind, always there for me, ready to defend me. I liked him. I heard the squeak of boots and guessed it was Mom taking Benny inside.
“I’ll have some hot chocolate ready in a minute!” I heard her call. I smiled.
Smack! Another cold item hit my chest.
“Got ya!”
“Caitlin.”
Zachary sounded stern, but loving. What a wonderful uncle he would be for my children. If I had any. Thirteen-year-old Caitlin was always happy, energetic and caring. She was nearly a second mother to me and if Mom was away, she’d be there. Often she described myself to me and then herself, taking my blindness as if my eyes were closed and I could see. That I was just asking her opinion on my looks. The only problem was, I didn’t know colors. Green was just a word. As was blonde, brown, red and black. Freckles were nothing, although she described them as, dots, little marks. She taught me how to make a dot with my pencil, a hard one, so that I could feel it. Straight and curly was easy to understand, since I could feel it. Dimples as well. Eyes were just like extra small footballs and I knew what it looked like by the way it felt and the shape it seemed to be. I could feel my nose, so that was easy to. What Caitlin did for my colors was crazy, but it worked to a good extent. She got a strip of something very soft and had me feel it.
“Think of it as brown.” She said. So I did.
Then she got something stringy and you could pull it easy.
“We’ll call this one red.”
Something rough, but not too rough was blonde and a crinkly thing called plastic was black. So whenever she told me my hair was curly brown, I imagined something very soft in a curly shape. You can’t really describe something that’s curly. You have to feel it. When she said I had very light freckles, I imagined the dot, just not so poked in. I felt my dimples and smile, everything really. I returned to my snow scene. Caitlin took my elbow and leave me through, thick, deep snow. I had felt how long four inches was on a ruler, had spread my fingers the distance and now she told me that’s how deep it was.
“Wow! Really?”
“Yes.” Caitlin moved my fingers along her lips. I smiled back at her because she was smiling too.
We stood there, her teaching me to make a snowball and trying to let me feel how to make one. Finally we gave up and just stood there, enjoying the moment.
“Sit.” She commanded suddenly. I did.
I sank in like it was a very plush pillow. I rubbed my hands around me. A smooth surface like marble or glass. Softness that crushed under any weight I put on it like sugar. Powdery as I held it in my hand like fluff from Benny’s ruined stuffed animal. I smiled again. I really wasn’t blind. Like Zach said, I could imagine. Wasn’t that good enough. In reality, I was blind of nothing.