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were listening to it. I feel sound.
I see, I said.
We are all performers. He gestured to his group. We sing.
Something on my face must have shown my disbelief, because he made a gesture at me
and said, Ear snob, and his friends signed in agreement.
Do you know the song You Raise Me Up ? asked Shawn.
I nodded. If I hadn t played that in about three-dozen weddings and at least as many
graduations, I hadn t played it at all. I d played it for my own sister s college graduation
party.
Shawn motioned to Kevin, who went to the equipment that the DJ would be using
later that night and started pressing buttons. I looked to Jim to see if he knew the kid was
fooling with his sound system. When I got his attention, he flicked a glance at Kevin and
then shrugged as if to say, No sweat. I guessed this might not be the first time they d done
this.
Shawn nodded to his friends and stood talking to them for a few minutes. They
arranged themselves in a semicircle, and I didn t know what to expect. Some of the other
patrons gathered round. Shawn nodded to Kevin, who started the music and turned it up
loud. The song had been made famous by Josh Groban, but I had originally found it in music
school and liked it because it was a kissing cousin of Londonderry Air. Shawn and his
friends began to interpret the lyrics in American Sign Language, but more, they danced the
words. It s a pretty but bland song, the lyrics the kind to guarantee shimmering eyes at a
gooey, emotional wedding. Great song for the dance with Dad, I had always thought a little
cynically.
Yet watching Shawn and his friends sing it, their lovely hands moving in both rhythm
and harmony was so beautiful no words could really describe it. It was visually musical in a
way I could never have expressed. I found watching them sing transcended my
preconceived notions of what music was and wasn t. For a man who had lived all his life by
his ears, I found myself rethinking my world. Mostly I watched Shawn, who seemed
incandescent and radiated warmth to me, even though like the sun, he might as well have
been ninety-three million miles away.
I guess I should have expected Shawn to follow me to my room afterward, except I
thought Kevin wouldn t allow it. I was getting out of the shower when I heard the knock at
my door. I really was surprised to find Shawn standing there.
Hey, he said, taking in the fact that I only had a towel around my waist.
St. Nacho s 19
Hey, I said, not opening the door to him. I kept my body in the way, blocking both
the entrance and the view into the spartan little room.
I came to say thank you, he said.
You re welcome. At least I would make this difficult.
I want to come in. His hand came up to smooth my wet hair behind an ear. I like
your tattoo. He pointed at the fetish tattoo I d gotten years before, a heart with a whip sort
of strangling it.
Look, I said, trying to make my words visible, you seem like a nice guy&
He pushed my chest, and suddenly, he was in the apartment, closing the door behind
him.
Do I? he asked, and it was as if he were two different people. Do I seem like a nice
guy to you? He continued to touch me, and now he was running his thumb over the
piercing in my eyebrow.
I think my eyebrows took off somewhere over my head. Warm brown eyes watched
me, waiting for me to say something. He was sort of grinning, as though he were laughing at
me.
Yeah, I said. Nice guy. Whatever he was doing to unbalance me was just that. I
knew he was nice. The way my mother used nice when I was a kid: Don t touch that, it s not
nice; be nice; play nice; he s a nice boy, the opposite of which was always the implied nasty.
Shawn was not a nasty boy. But I was.
I fell to my knees and began unbuckling his belt. He jumped back a little, clearly
primed and ready but not for the speed at which things were progressing between us. My
towel fell off and puddled on the floor. I yanked hard on the button at the top of his jeans.
Oh, hey! He gave a little yelp. I rubbed at his cock behind his zipper. I was careful in
case he wore no underwear, but found he did. I unzipped him and pulled his shorts down to
get a good look. He was hard and huge, his cock thudding into my hands, leaving a wet trail
behind. He d obviously been looking forward to something happening between us, and I
really couldn t say I blamed him. I was too. I gave the underside of his dick an experimental
lick and held my hand out for a condom.
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