Give Me a Sign(61)

I search the field and point to the baseball area. Max has picked up the Wiffle ball bat and is swinging it through the air.

“He likes baseball,” Isaac says, nodding approvingly. “That’s my game. So you wanted me to talk to him?”

“Yes, please.”

At the firepit last night, I told Isaac how frustrated I am that Max doesn’t seem as interested in learning ASL as I am. I guess a part of me is being selfish—I want him to learn so that I have someone at home to sign with once camp is over. But I also want him to know his communication options, especially with a big decision about a cochlear implant coming up.

“You good for a minute?” I ask Phoebe. “I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, no hurry, I could do this for hours.” Phoebe has decided against making her string bracelet-length, so she keeps on braiding what looks like a long woven snake now.

I follow Isaac over to Max. “Want to play catch?” Isaac asks my brother.

Immediately Max looks at me. “What’d he say?” I shake my head and point back toward Isaac, who repeats his question. “Come on, Lilah,” Max whines.

Isaac breaks it down, one word at a time. “Play?”

“I don’t know what he’s saying,” Max says. “Lilah, just tell me.”

“What do you think he’s saying? What is everyone doing right now?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” Max paces a few steps, looking around. “I don’t know, playing?”

“Right,” I say and sign. “Play.”

“F-l-y?” Isaac signs, picking up one of the Wiffle balls and nodding toward the bat.

“Come on,” I say. “I know you know the alphabet.”

“D?” Max asks.

I shake my head. “F-l-y.”

“Fly?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Isaac reaches out for the Wiffle bat. He nods for Max to run out farther into the grass.

“Oh, fly balls?” Max jogs back into position. He gestures throwing a ball high into the field.

“I think he figured it out,” Isaac signs to me with a grin. He tosses the ball into the air beside him, effortlessly swinging the bat to lob the ball in Max’s direction. Max runs to get it but misses. He chases after it and throws it back to Isaac, who catches it one-handed.

Isaac puts the bat beneath his arm and signs to Max. “Again?”

“What?” Max shouts, holding out his hand with one finger up. “Throw it again!”

“That’s the sign,” I say, repeating the word. “Again.”

“Oh, yeah,” Max says. “Again.” He tacks on another gesture to indicate throwing, and repeats a few more signs he knows. “Yes, again, throw!” But he tries to go too fast, and in all that waving, what he ends up with is mostly a jumble of nonsense.

“It’s okay to go slow,” I say. “You have to make sure that the clarity is there first. Speed will come with time, I promise.”

Isaac hits the ball directly in Max’s direction for an easy catch. Max throws it back, eagerly signing, “Again.” Then he points up to signal “higher next time.”

Isaac looks at me proudly and nods toward Max, as if to say, “Look at that.”

“It’s a start,” I sign. “Thank you.”

“Hey, are you talking about me?” my brother shouts.

“Yep,” I say, smiling.

Chapter Twenty-two

Before wandering off with Isaac after hours today, I want to clear the air with Simone. Bobby had a headache and went to bed early, so she’s alone at the firepit, reading one of her books.

“Hey, you’re not mad at me about the other night still?” I ask, diving right in.

“I don’t know.” She keeps running her fingers across a page, but I wait expectantly, so she pauses and looks up. “Like, I know you’re primarily hanging out with Phoebe, but sometimes it feels like I have an extra camper in my group now, not an extra counselor.”

“Oh. Sorry, I should’ve been more helpful. Working with the older girls has been so much easier than the younger kids, I guess I was treating it too much like a break. Or like the last few summers I missed being here as an older camper myself.”

“And I get that,” Simone says. “But that’s why I was angry that night.”

“That makes so much more sense. I knew it couldn’t possibly be about sneaking out, ’cause I’m convinced you and Bobby have done that before.”

I thought this would break the tension and make Simone laugh, but she just looks away. “I don’t know, that’s all complicated right now.”

“Again?”

“Well, it’s like he wants to come back next summer—if there even is a next summer—but I just got into this program at school to be an aide, and I need the credit to graduate. I’m definitely not coming back. I actually have to move to Minnesota for a full year, so there’s a lot to figure out.”

“That is a lot. I’m sad that you won’t be back next year. I’ll miss you. Congratulations on the program, though. Are you excited?”

“Definitely.” She waves a hand. “The timing of it all isn’t great, but the program is definitely a good thing.”