The Pearl 2020

44
moment after I put on my gold gloves. The heat stopped blowing in the
vents, but my layers are keeping me warm inside the car. Still, I know it has to
end and, regrettably, I grab the door handle and open it up. I take my cane,
collapsed in half, and step outside. The first wind doesn’t bother me too
much, but that’s going to change.
Jim is coming around from the trunk. He keeps a collection of canes
of many shapes and sizes and an assortment of accessories, primarily different
tips, in the back of his work car. He always takes one for himself when
we work together. Jim is fully sighted, hence him driving the both of us to
Cedar Rapids, but he always brings a cane to help instruct me if I’m doing a
technique wrong or if there’s an obstacle he wants to point out to me without
taking my own cane away from me. I know he also owns a blindfold, as he
always walks our routes alone before I go with him.
I’ve known Jim for a long time, since kindergarten. I still had decent
vision back then, so the need for an Orientation & Mobility (O&M) Specialist
like him wasn’t urgent. However, it was all but guaranteed that my vision
would deteriorate in the future, so Jim thought it would be a good idea to introduce
me to what a cane felt like while traveling with one. My paraeducator,
Mrs. Fawcett, told me she was furious watching Jim teach me on one particular
day. Jim had the idea to let a small and visually impaired six-year-old cross
a street in the town’s square all by himself. This child lived in the country, had
never crossed a town street by himself before, and had no prior experience
with a walking cane. It almost sounds like a recipe for disaster. I didn’t die;
I’m here writing about this now. I guess I learned pretty quickly.
After a handful of meetings with Jim when I was little, I didn’t see him
again until the summer before my freshman year in high school. Jim and Lori,
my current O&M at the time, were holding a blind-travel summer program. I
learned some entry-level independent skills, like asking for help at a store or
using a taxi for the first time. A year later, Lori became my primary Teacher
of the Visually Impaired (TVI) and Jim took me on as my O&M, the first
time we worked together in several years.
“Are ya ready?” Jim asks, unfolding his cane, the clicks of the links
joining together masked by the chilly breeze and the sound of cars passing us
to our left.