Rhys
Cockermouth is for Lovers
Duncanturnsandstepsback onto Main Road. The caramel is burning a hole in my pocket but my chest feels light. Now that we have successfully shoplifted, a bit of my brain space has freed up and lyrics around the word "yes" are spinning through my mind.
I chuckle following behind him as we pass the tea shop and the shoe repair store across the way. Duncan is swinging his candy bar like he’s a baseball player stepping into the batter’s box.
He spins and backs through a door, all the while grinning at me. With my eyes wide open, and oddly feeling no reservations at all, I follow him into the thrift store.
"What are we doing here?" I ask.
"Picking outfits for each other." He says as he starts to thumb through the racks. "You a medium?"
"Yes. Sometimes large."
"Me too Charming, me too." I roll my eyes but head to the rack next to him.
An employee walks over and waves. She’s wearing a pin saying "I talk with my hands…because I’m deaf."
Hello.I sign and she beams.
Welcome in. Can I help you?
No, I think we’re fine but I’ll let you know.
Sounds good.She gives me a thumbs up and heads back to the counter.
"That’s so cool." Duncan says and I glance back at him.
"What?"
"You signing with her. Teach me something."
"Do you know any BSL?" I ask because British Sign Language and American Sign Language are different.
"I thought it was ASL?"
"Aye Laddie but here in Scotland we sign British Sign Language."
"You throwing on that accent shouldn’t be as hot as it is." Duncan points a finger in my face. "Watch it or we’ll be breaking the sex rule."
I laugh. "Fine, do you know Thank You in ASL?" I place my closed flat hand against my chin and push it forward and a little down.
"Yeah everyone knows that one." He copies me.
"Well, in BSL it’s a little different." I split my finger, keeping it flat, and make a V with my index and middle finger. After letting it tap my chin, I pull it down and away like I did for thank you in ASL.
Except this one essentially meansfuck you.
Duncan confidently practices it as he goes back to looking for clothing and I work to suppress my giggle.
"Was it tough to grow up with deaf parents?"
"I don’t really know any other way."
"That’s fair." He shrugs as he slides hangers on the rack.
It’s easier to admit things when his deep brown eyes aren’t tripping me up. "It was tough sometimes. And I felt different."
