A Step Toward Falling by Cammie McGovern Read Free Book Online Page B

she means by we’ll add a session at the end. That we might be called volunteers, but we aren’t here voluntarily? Surely Chad hasn’t missed it, but maybe he assumes we’re here like he was, for class credit, nothing more.
    Thankfully Mary moves quickly on to the activity, a game called “Relationship Jeopardy! ,” which apparently is played like the TV show. She pulls out a whiteboard with categories on it: Good Communication; Okay/Not Okay Touching; Hygiene; Classy/Not Classy.
    Simon, who has thick glasses that make his eyes look bigger than they are, goes first. “Okay/Not Okay Touching for one hundred points, please,” he says. He has his hands folded on the table in front of him, like a contestant on the show. Mary reads the question. “If a waitress is nice and brings you extra barbecue sauce, it’s okay to touch her butt as you thank her. True or false.”
    Simon thinks for a while. Finally, he shakes his head.“No, no. That’s not right.”
    â€œYou have to say true or false, Simon.”
    â€œTouch her butt? No. I don’t think so.”
    â€œDo you want to say false?”
    â€œDefinitely false.”
    â€œThat’s correct!”
    Francine is up next. Technically we’re not supposed to know what our classmates’ disabilities are because we should get to know them as people, not disabilities, Mary told us in our training session. With Francine, though, it’s pretty obvious she has Down syndrome. Her face is round, her eyes narrow. She takes “good communication” for 400 points. Apparently, to win more points, she has to role-play a scene. “We’ll need two volunteers to help Francine with this one,” Mary says, reading her slip of paper. “How about Emily and . . .” She takes a moment to decide between Lucas and Chad. “Okay, Lucas, how about you?”
    My hands start to sweat as we walk up to the front of the room. It’s been years since I’ve stood in front of an audience and even longer since I’ve tried to improvise a scene. I can’t help but think about Chad watching.
    â€œHere’s the scenario,” Mary says. “Emily and Lucas are your parents and they have said you’re not allowed to date, Francine. You’ve met a young man at work who seems nice and has asked you out. How do you get your parents to change their minds?”
    Francine nods and closes her eyes as if she’s a real actress, taking a moment to get into character. Lucas and I wait, not looking at each other. “Are you ready?” Marysays. Francine nods. “Okay. And—scene!”
    Francine starts the scene by dropping to her knees. “PLEEEEEEEASE,” she pleads. It’s very funny and everyone laughs. Then she says something else that’s impossible to understand.
    I look at Lucas, who obviously isn’t going to be much help. “We’re sorry, honey,” I say. “But your dad and I have to make rules.”
    â€œO-hay,” Francine says. It’s like her tongue is too big for her mouth. She says something else I don’t get.
    â€œCan you repeat that? We didn’t understand,” Lucas says. At the last minute, he adds, “Honey?” which gets a laugh from the group.
    It sounds like she’s saying something about Winnie the Pooh but that can’t be right. Lucas looks at Mary for help. I have to admit, I’m stuck, too.
    Mary says, “Francine is wondering when the rules will change, Dad? She’s twenty-two years old now.”
    Lucas looks at me, stumped. Dimly I remember a rule I learned from my old acting class days: every scene builds on conflict. One character wants something, the other says no. “The answer is no, Francine,” I say. “Your father and I agree on this.”
    Neither one of us is ready for what comes next. Francine turns and fixes me with a stare full of fury and resentment. For a second I