Being Jazmine (Invisible Series Book 3) Read online

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hello.’ I hardly know what to say, but Shannon is still signing to Freya. I look at her to try to follow along.

  ‘…Take her up, and make sure she’s got everything. And go slow.’

  Freya flashes her a grin and gives me a small smile, like, we’re stuck with each other now, and I grin back at her because it’s true.

  She takes me up to our room. It’s number 23, along a covered pathway that also goes past three other doors in the same block: 22, 24 and 25. When she opens it, I see some olive green carpet, four bunks – two high and two low – and striped curtains. At the end of the room there’s a door.

  ‘The bathroom,’ signs Freya. ‘It’s good Mia’s not here yet. She gets annoyed if you take too long in the shower.’

  ‘Mia?’ I sign, but slowly, because I didn’t really catch it.

  ‘Mia’. She finger spells it. ‘She’s coming late. In a day or two. I think her cousin is getting married or something.’ She points to the bunks. Two of them have bags spread out on them. Freya’s stuff, maybe, and someone else? ‘You can pick the one you want before Mia gets here. Ha ha.’

  She laughs, like I should know what the joke is, and as I’m pretty much guessing about what she’s signing, because she’s fast, I just give her a smile and put my bags randomly on a lower bunk. ‘This one?’

  She nods approvingly. ‘Mia won’t mind’.

  I leave my bags there, and follow her around the rest of the campsite, up paths, into a dining room, though a big room that looks like it’s for meetings or lectures, and through another, smaller one with a fire place. We head down the path towards the river until we get to a playing field with goals at each end. The whole place is big, but Freya seems to know it all. It’s not until she tells me she’s been coming every year for three years that I understand how she feels so comfortable.

  ‘We hang with all the Year Eights,’ she signs. ‘The Sevens and Sixes are…’ but I can’t catch the sign.

  ‘Sorry. Can you slow down?’ I ask. I’m embarrassed, but she’s nice about it.

  ‘Cool.’ She grins and takes it down a notch. ‘The Year Tens think they’re so cool.’ She rolls her eyes and I’m in no doubt as to what she thinks of the Year Tens. ‘Mia hates them.’

  We head back up the path from the playing field, up to the concrete breezeway, and the kids, still clumped into groups, some small and some big, spilling over onto the steps.

  ‘The Year Tens,’ signs Freya, and points towards a larger gathering of kids, taller than the rest. My heart jumps: I think I recognise two of them from the group at the beach, a girl, maybe? And one of the boys? But there’s no time to look longer, because Freya is pulling at my arm.

  ‘And this is our group.’

  My stomach pinches inside, and my breath goes faster. New people. I swallow hard. Why is it still so hard to meet new people?

  Freya points them out to me. ‘Nick. Addicted to his phone.’

  A boy with black, spiky hair signs ‘hi’ at me. He has a phone in his hand, and a game on the go, if the flashing screen is any clue. I sign ‘hi’ back and do a small smile at him. He flashes a grin back at me. It lights up his face.

  ‘Charlotte. She’s in our room too.’

  Charlotte has a long dark braid down one side of her head, over her ear. It may be the longest hair I’ve ever seen. Like, right down to her hip. I’m slightly in awe of it. Mine’s been just past my shoulders for ages now. Maybe it’s not going to grow any more. I sign ‘hi’ and she waves a hand at me in reply.

  ‘And this is Truck,’ signs Freya. She does the sign for it and then spells it out on her fingers. ‘Truck.’

  ‘Truck?’ I make a face that’s trying to be polite, but still ask a question. What kind of a name is that? Truck must have been asked that before because he chips in. ‘Mack Truck,’ he signs. ‘You know, those big trucks. The interstate ones. My real name’s Mack, and they call me Truck.’

  ‘Oh,’ I sign, and I begin to say it too, just because I’m surprised. “Oh.” Mack is big, and kind of lumbering. He’s probably almost as tall as Geoff, and maybe even bigger than him. I feel nervous. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Are you Deaf or Hard of Hearing?’ signs Charlotte to me.

  ‘Hard of Hearing,’ I sign, a little unsure about the question.

  ‘Oh, you’re not Strong Deaf,’ she signs.

  I look at Freya for assistance. I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that question. ‘Am I strong…?’

  Around me, there’s laughter. From Mack, shaking shoulders. What did I say?

  ‘Strong Deaf,’ signs Freya. She thinks for a moment, like she’s working out how to explain something. ‘Like, do you have deaf parents?’

  I shake my head. ‘No.’

  ‘Do you only use Auslan, or do you speak English too?’ Charlotte continues. She looks frustrated at my confusion.

  Freya touches my arm. ‘She means, what kind of ‘deaf’ are you?’

  I honestly don’t know what to answer. What kind of deaf am I? ‘I can hear things, when I use my hearing aids.’ I’m struggling to stay fluent with my signs, but I keep going, looking around to see their responses. ‘I don’t use Auslan, except at home with my mum. We learned when I was little.’

  Charlotte makes a knowing face. ‘Okay. Hard of Hearing.’ She looks at Truck, and Nick, and the three of them look at Freya, as though something’s important.

  ‘Well, we’ll just teach her before Mia comes,’ signs Freya, to them, not to me. I wrinkle my forehead. What does she mean? And what difference will Mia coming make?

  Shannon and another teacher, a young guy, dressed in shorts and a singlet, and holding a ball come by to gather everyone up.

  ‘Touch footy,’ signs Truck. ‘You have to play,’ he says to me when he sees my face, which isn’t exactly horror, but it’s not delight either. Touch footy isn’t something I know anything about. But, ‘we all do,’ he signs, so before dinner I walk down with them all to the playing field for half an hour of difficult, sweaty sport. It leaves me tired, and confused about the rules.

  Up in the dining room, I’m nervous-hungry, so I focus on the food while Freya, Charlotte and Truck sign and laugh and finish two platefuls each, with me following along their conversation as best I can. The whole group plays ‘get to know you’ games in the bigger meeting room after, and that’s also hard. It’s fast, and I’m shy, and at the end, I feel like I still don’t know anyone, except Charlotte and Freya who stay with me, and by the time lights out comes around, I’m more than ready to go to bed.

  When the lights are off, the darkness is almost too much for me. Everything’s so different. My sleeping bag is less than comfortable, and the pillow is wrong, and I’m just so exhausted that I can’t stop a small sob erupting out of my mouth. It turns into a hiccup. An embarrassingly loud one.

  “Jazmine, are you okay?”

  It’s a voice. Almost the first voice speaking words I’ve heard since I’ve arrived. It’s Freya’s voice. At least, I presume it is; it’s coming from her bunk.

  “I guess.” My words come out a bit blurry, and I’m surprised to feel wet around my eyes. There’s a tiny lump in my throat which I try to swallow down, but it won’t go away.

  Freya hops out of bed, turns the lights on and looks into my bunk. “You are crying!” It’s almost an accusation, but it comes with a smile, so I know she’s not being mean. I sit up and try not to sniffle, and she sits next to me. Across the room, Charlotte hangs over the edge of her top bunk so she can see too.

  ‘It’s normal to feel bad when it’s your first time here,’ signs Freya.

  ‘You should have seen Freya,’ signs Charlotte, laughing out loud. ‘She bawled, like a baby. Ha ha.’

  Freya makes a face. ‘Whatever.’ She turns back to me. ‘Are you missing home?’

  I think for a second. And I try to put the words together in my hands. ‘Maybe a bit. But more that…’ I bite my lip and wipe stray tears off my cheeks. ‘It’s new.’ I
shrug my shoulders. ‘Sometimes I feel shy.’

  Freya touches my knee, kindly. ‘I know. And we’re so weird, right? Deaf kids are the crazy kids.’

  I shrink back, alarmed that maybe she thinks I think she’s crazy. ‘No, not at all…’ I begin, but she’s laughing.

  From her position up on her bunk, Charlotte signs and talks at the same time. “What you have to know, Jazmine, is that we just say what we think.” She grins at me. “Hearing people get all upset about people being rude. They hide their meanings under nice words, but in deaf culture we just say it.” She signs, ‘You don’t have to be offended. Just be yourself.’

  Freya touches my arm. ‘Just be yourself, okay? You’ll like it - and us - soon. And, obviously, don’t worry about Mia.”

  Charlotte nods, but she doesn’t look so convinced. ‘Yeah, don’t worry about Mia.’

  Chapter 10

  I sleep well, and in the morning, when Freya tugs at my sleeping bag, my eyes are thick with fog. I automatically go to reach for my hearing aid, before I realise that I don’t need it. I sit up and blink.

  ‘Get up, lazy,’ signs Freya. ‘It’s nearly brekky.’

  I look at my watch. She’s right. Breakfast is at eight, and it’s ten to now. I bounce out of bed, rummage for clothes - denim shorts and a pink t-shirt - and pull them on as quickly as I can. Next to me, Charlotte is already dressed: white shorts, a tie-dyed t-shirt and black Converse on her feet. She’s fixing her hair, the same long braid as yesterday. It covers one of her ears completely.

  ‘Your hair is so long,’ I sign. I feel proud of myself. My signs seem faster, and smoother. Maybe I’m going to manage all of this Auslan after all.

  ‘She’s never cut it,’ Freya signs to me. She tugs at my shoulder to get my attention, so I can see her.

  ‘Never?’ It seems unbelievable to me.

  ‘Not really.’ Charlotte grins.

  Freya winks at her and grins at me. ‘She hides her implant underneath it.’

  ‘Implant?’ I make the sign back at her, not understanding.

  “Cochlear implant,” she says with her voice.

  “What’s that?” I ask, because I don’t know.

  ‘It helps her hear,’ signs Freya.

  ‘Like a hearing aid?’ I ask.

  ‘Different,’ signs Freya. ‘The sounds go past your ear. Straight to the auditory nerve.’ She says the words “auditory nerve” out loud. To be honest, it doesn’t make it much clearer for me.

  ‘Is it implanted? Like, in your head?’ I sign to Charlotte, but then I feel bad. Her face is not happy.

  ‘Don’t.’ Her sign is to Freya, not to me, but Freya doesn’t seem to mind the anger that comes with it.

  ‘She won’t tell you about it,’ signs Freya to me. ‘But she does have one. She turns it off when she’s at Deaf Camp.’

  Charlotte makes a face. ‘I’m allowed.’

  I don’t know what to say, so I shrug and try a smile. ‘I don’t mind.’

  Freya immediately makes a laughing face and Charlotte stops being grumpy and looks at me. ‘You’re so cute,’ she says. ‘Really. Just cute.’

  I still have no idea what’s going on, so I look at my watch again. ‘Will we miss breakfast?’

  ‘Bacon and eggs,’ signs Freya, together with another word I don’t know. As she makes for the door, I follow her with Charlotte. ‘What’s this?’ I ask Charlotte, and do Freya’s sign from before.

  ‘You know, don’t you?’ signs Charlotte. And she says a word. “Pancakes.”

  The pancakes are delicious. Syrupy and fluffy and steaming and I eat about four of them before Freya makes me follow her and get eggs and bacon as well. When breakfast finishes I’m full of food, and happy.

  ‘Brush your teeth?’ signs Charlotte. ‘Come back to the cabin.’

  We head up the pathway together, avoiding some of the younger kids, and trying to look cool as we pass the Year Tens.

  When we’re in the cabin, Charlotte shuts the door. Then she turns to me and makes me stop. ‘You know that stuff about the implant,’ she signs.

  ‘Yes?’ I’m curious.

  She takes a breath in, and lets it out quickly, looking around her, like she’s scared someone’s going to see her. Then she pulls her braid away from her head so I can see. There’s a small round button thing behind her ear, like a plug. ‘I don’t have it in right now. It’s in my bag. I take it off at camp.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it before. My hearing aids just sit behind my ear. There’s nothing that plugs into my head.

  She looks around again, like she’s considering something else, but she’s not sure. Then she touches my arm to get my attention. ‘I’m going to get another implant.’ She breathes in and out, like she’s nervous. ‘This year. In about two months.’

  Again, I don’t really know what to say. ‘That’s good,’ I sign, but I’m not sure if she’s happy or sad about it, so I don’t know if I should be smiling or looking disappointed for her.

  To my surprise, she starts to cry.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I sign, but her eyes are kind of closed with tears, and I’m not sure she can see me clearly. She sits on my bunk, so I sit beside her until she swipes the tears off her face and sniffs the rest of them back.

  ‘Sorry,’ she signs. ‘That was embarrassing.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I begin, but she keeps going. ‘I don’t have anyone else I can tell, you see. I mean, yeah, my family knows.’ She rolls her eyes a little bit. ‘Obviously, but they don’t know how it is.’

  I’m confused. ‘How what is?’ I ask.

  ‘You really don’t know, do you? You really don’t understand what deaf people think about implants.’ Charlotte’s face is smiling, but it’s the kind of smile people give a small child, when they’ve just said something funny but they have no idea what it is.

  I put my hands up, like, so help me out and she explains.

  ‘Like, to my parents, it seems really obvious that I should get them, because with them I can hear everything they can hear. And that’s normal, right?’

  I nod. ‘Yeah, so?’

  ‘So the point is that, like Mia says, being deaf isn’t having something wrong with you. So, maybe we can’t speak English, but we can speak Auslan. It’s our language.’ She shifts next to me on the bed, and turns so I can see her more easily. ‘She says we have to embrace being Deaf. She says when there’s so much discrimination, that’s when people think implants are the answer. So we can be ‘normal’, according to them. Instead, Mia says we should say ‘no’ to implants. Stand up and fight for ourselves, she says. Stop the discrimination. And I want to.’ Charlotte looks away. ‘But I also want my second implant.’

  Her face is sad, and I don’t know what to say. I open my mouth, and position my hands to try to say something - anything that might help - but before I can get anything out, there’s a gust of wind from the door.

  Freya.

  Immediately, Charlotte leaps up from my bunk and rummages for her toothbrush, her face hidden. I try to cover for her. ‘Hey.’

  ‘Are you guys coming?’ Freya looks around at us with a frown. ‘They’re about to start the session in the hall.’

  ‘Oh.’ I stand up, guiltily. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘One minute,’ signs Charlotte, backing into the bathroom.

  ‘We’ll go,’ signs Freya back at her. ‘See you.’ She looks around her. ‘You need a book and a pen, Shannon says.’

  Down in the hall, the group is gathering for a talk. The room has been set up with chairs in a horse shoe, facing the front. There’s a table, a projector, and two women dressed in black standing around chatting to each other.

  ‘Find a chair, ladies,’ signs Shannon to us. ‘Take a seat.’ We choose seats in one of the middle rows. I put my book on the one next to me, saving it for Charlotte. Nick and Truck throw themselves down heavily next to Freya.

  Truck bends over her, towards me. ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey,’ I
sign back.

  The talk is by some grown-up - a man, with an impressive sounding job title that they tell us about three times when they’re introducing him, but I can’t really remember the details, because I don’t know all the signs for it exactly. He stands up at the front of the room and talks into a microphone while one of the black-wearing women stands a few metres away from him and interprets into Auslan. As he talks, the words he’s saying go up on to a screen behind him. It’s incredible. I can watch, or I can read, or I can listen. At least, I could have listened if I’d had my hearing aids in. At first, I experiment, my eyes darting back and forth from the guy to the translator to the words, but that gets a bit crazy for my brain, so in the end I choose to focus on the interpreter. And I feel excited. Imagine me - being able to follow along with every word, in a talk!

  The whole talk is called ‘My Life at School’ which I guess is kind of relevant to us, seeing as all of the kids here probably go to school. The guy starts out telling us about his family and where he grew up, but pretty soon he gets to the school bit, and that’s where, as they say, my ears start to prick up. Except of course, my ears had nothing to do with it today. Perhaps it’s more like my eyes start to open, and my brain starts to spark.

  ‘…I missed out on a lot of things,’ the interpreter signs. ‘I never really had the time - or the energy to be social, so I didn’t have a lot of friends.’

  I’m amazed. I write a quick, messy note to Charlotte. It sounds like me. She makes a face at me, like, I know, right? And then, I stay amazed as he talks about constantly being tired, constantly having to try, try, try, just to stay on top of things.

  ‘I did okay at school,’ he says. ‘They all thought I could do better, and they said things like, “If you tried harder, you’d get better results.” But I couldn’t try any harder. I was doing my best.’

  My eyes open even wider. This is me. This guy is me.

  I watch the interpreter more closely. She goes on tell the next part of the guy’s story: how he got himself some resources, some help. How he asked the school for an interpreter, how they said no, and then, after a bit of fighting and advocacy (a new sign for me), yes. How he found ways to travel, to study further, to become a lawyer.