Shaking the Sugar Tree by Nick Wilgus Read Free Book Online

windows, was rather showy. It was dark blue, almost black. The young man who stepped out wore sunglasses, a tank top, and baggy shorts that were almost falling off his skinny ass. There were tattoos on his arms, a cigarette in the corner of his lips.
    He was a man going somewhere in this life. Where, well, he probably had no clue.
    He did not look at us.
    I saw Mr. and Mrs. Warren exchange a worried glance.
    Who is that? Noah asked me.
    I don’t know.
    He bit at his lip.
    I held him to me, my arms over his chest, as though I were telling him that whatever happened, we were in this together and he was safe with me. He put his hands on my arms, and I saw Mrs. Warren glancing uneasily at his left hand with its extra pinkie. I put my hand on it to cover it. She looked up at me, realizing I had caught her looking.
    She looked away, embarrassed.
    Mr. Warren glanced at me, a look of disapproval in his eyes that I knew only too well. Noah and I were too friendly, too affectionate, too touchy-feely. I did not bother to explain that touch is an important part of a relationship with a deaf person, especially a deaf child. It’s one of the ways they connect with others. They can tell a lot about you just by touching you, holding you, connecting with you. Your body is a map as far as they’re concerned.
    At precisely eight o’clock that Monday morning, under cloudy skies that promised rain, a door opened at the end of a long, fenced-in corridor, and Kayla appeared, escorted by a female prison guard. Kayla wore street clothes, carried a duffel bag. She was still pretty, in a way. She would always be pretty to me, I guess. She had gained weight, but not much. She looked healthy for a change. Had cut her hair really short.
    Noah broke from my arms and ran to the locked gate on this side of the walkway.
    “Ma!” he exclaimed happily. “Ma!”
    He had spent a great many hours practicing that one syllable. It rang out across the parking lot. It was too loud; he couldn’t judge how loud to speak. It sounded awkward, more like a grunt or a honk than a word. It was not a word he used often.
    She glanced at him, frowning.
    The guard led her to the gate, unlocked it.
    “Good luck, Miss Kayla,” the guard said, setting her free.
    “Ma!” Noah repeated, going to her, putting his face against her chest, his arms around her waist, smiling with a crazy happiness.
    She looked bewildered, uncomfortable.
    No one moved, so I went forward, took the duffel bag from her hand.
    “How are you, Kayla?” I asked.
    “I told you not to come,” she said through clenched teeth.
    “He wanted to see his mother.”
    “Goddammit, Wiley,” she said. “Will you get him off me?”
    I dropped her duffel bag, glad to hear something or other break when it hit the concrete. I pulled Noah away, held him back.
    She snatched up the bag, looked down at him. She did not know what to say.
    “Hello, Noah,” she offered at last, her voice stiff.
    “Ma,” he repeated.
    “So what’s happening?”
    “I fine,” he said, offering his brightest smile.
    He was still learning to read lips, could work out some of the basic interactions. He knew the first question someone would most likely ask was how he was, so he automatically said he was fine.
    Kayla’s lower lip trembled and she pulled her eyes away from him and looked around, the expression in her eyes dazed.
    “I know it’s not good timing, but I was hoping to get a picture of you and Noah,” I said quietly. “He doesn’t have one, you know.”
    She rolled her eyes and exhaled rather sharply.
    “I want him to have at least one ,” I said softly.
    She gave me furtive look, as if she couldn’t believe her ears.
    “Ma,” Noah said, pulling on her shirtsleeve, trying to get her attention.
    “What?” she snapped, looking back to him. Her face was tense. Noah was sure to notice it.
    “I love you,” he said. It came out sounding like “Ai of ewe.”
    “Oh,” she said, frowning.
    Her mother and father