Casey Watson - Just a Boy

Contents

To my wonderful and supportive family

Kindness is a language which the deaf

can hear and the blind can see.

Mark Twain

Dropping my shopping in the hall, car keys hanging from my mouth, I ran through the house to get to the phone before it cut off.

Hello, I spluttered, trying to catch my breath.

Casey, hi there, said a familiar voice. It was John Fulshaw, my fostering-agency link worker. You sound puffed, he observed. Are you okay to talk?

To you? I replied, laughing. Anytime. Do you bring me good tidings? I felt a ripple of excitement about why he might be phoning. Mike and I were between placements at the moment, a state of affairs I became bored with very easily. Perhaps John had a new child for us. Now that would really make my Wednesday. Well? I finished.

Yes, he said. I do.

I was just about to ask him for chapter and verse when he continued. But only of a temporary nature. Its a fourteen-year-old boy who lives with his elderly grandparents and needs a place to stay just for a couple of days.

He went on to explain that this boy, who was called Cameron, wouldnt be one of our usual kind of children, who mainly came from terrible backgrounds or were already in the care system. This was different. It was a lad who lived in perfectly agreeable family circumstances and who needed a place to go only because his grandmother had been taken ill and hospitalised. Apparently, Granddad, who was disabled, wouldnt be able to manage on his own, which was why a place needed to be found right away. He also needed to be able to spend time with his sick wife, John finished, and obviously couldnt be in two places at once.

And our lads a bit too much of a handful to be home alone then, is he? I chortled. I knew what fourteen-year-old boys could be like.

Not at all, John corrected me. Quite the opposite hell be no trouble at all. Theres just one thing you need to know, really. Hes blind.

For the first time in my life, I think, I was completely lost for words. I tried to recall if Id ever even met anyone who was blind before, and couldnt, and then, of course, my brain starting whirring. What would it be like, having a blind child living with us? Would it be difficult? Would we need to move the furniture?

Casey? John prompted, obviously mistaking my logistical musings for reluctance. Dont feel obliged to say yes to this. We can ask someone else, I just thought you might be interested. I know youre itching to get another child in and I thought this might make an interesting stop-gap for you both. Hes a lovely lad really funny and doesnt let his disability faze him. Do you want some time to talk it over with Mike?

God, no, I reassured him. Mike will be absolutely fine with it. I dont need to ask him because I know hell say yes.

Well, if youre sure John said. It would only be from tomorrow to Saturday morning. Theres a family member travelling up to take over then, I believe, and

Sure Im sure, I told him. So that was that.

As I expected, Mike wasnt fazed in the least. By the time hed got home from work that afternoon, Id already been busy on the internet, fact-finding. And it had been really useful. Taking inspiration from the website of a school for the blind, with their sensory rooms, musical instruments, interactive and soft play areas, I already had lots of ideas.

Mike seemed to find all this amusing. Soft play areas? he asked. You said the lad was fourteen, didnt you? Not four! And if hes been blind from birth [something else Id managed to clarify] I expect hes capable of a lot more than you think. Still, he mused, looking around him, it does make you think, doesnt it? Hes obviously familiar with his own surroundings but I reckon it will still be pretty challenging to navigate himself around here. He closed his eyelids. And itll certainly be an eye-opener for us, eh?

Mikes lame jokes aside, I felt quite excited about the following morning, and also a bit more prepared, having spent half the evening doing more research and finding out that, contrary to what Id always thought, many blind people could see at least some things; could often distinguish daylight from night-time, and see blurry outlines of objects and people. So my idea of perpetual darkness wasnt correct at all. And I was about to learn more. I couldnt wait.

It seemed as if the weather was on my wavelength as well. Thursday morning dawned to match my mood sunny and expectant. It seemed the British climate had, for a change, decided to be kind. It was mid August and for almost the first time that month, it seemed to be in accord with everyones seasonal expectations.

Uh-oh, said my grown-up son Kieron as he came down to the kitchen. Do I smell bleach? Honestly, Mother, at this time? He did. I was on my hands and knees, giving the floor a last once over. We had a dog Bob and I was conscious that with a visitor coming to stay, mucky paw marks were a no-no, even if the visitor couldnt see them.

Kieron stepped over me to get to the cereal cupboard. He had a busy day planned, going off with a mate of his to pick an amp up from some far-flung location; Kieron was in college, but had being earning a few quid over the summer DJing and was doing a disco at the local youth club on Friday night.

You do, I said, and talking of smells, can you do me a favour? Can you nip out to the garden before you go and pick what you can find for me, flowers-wise?

It would be nice, I thought, bearing in mind what Id read about sensory-impaired people relying more on their other senses, to have the place smelling nice for Camerons arrival.

Kieron duly did, and, in fact, still hadnt left when the car containing Cameron pulled up outside. Though not with John there was no need for John to be involved in this handover. Thered be no reams of paperwork, no ominous-looking manila files to be gone through; just a quick chat with Camerons social worker, Jeremy.

I went to the front door and opened it ready, taking stock as the two of them approached. It felt a little weird watching someone so intently when they couldnt see you, but my eyes were drawn to him as if by a magnet. He was a tall lad he looked more like sixteen or seventeen than fourteen and good-looking, too, with a shock of conker-coloured hair. I noticed straight away that he walked without the aid of his social worker and instead had a white cane that snapped into life when he shook it, and sort of hovered, just above ground level, swinging left and right in front of him, as he deftly made his way to our door.

I didnt know what he could see of me, but Cameron had a huge smile on his face, and appeared to be looking just above my head. This was no surprise really, given the difference in our height. Im four foot eleven, and this kid had to be six feet tall. I was just about to say hello when I almost jumped out of my skin. Out of nowhere, this robotic-sounding voice had suddenly spoken. Good morning, it said. It is 10.00 a.m.

Cameron laughed and turned his head. Thats a fiver you owe me, Jezza, he said to his social worker. Told you we wouldnt be late, didnt I?

Jeremy seemed amused by my startled expression, Talking watch, he said by way of explanation. We had a bit of a bet on the way over, because I was getting in a bit of a fluster about being late, and Cameron hes a bit of a whizz with numbers, arent you, Cameron? had a wager with me. And it looks like he won. He grinned at his charge. But it was for a cream cake, not a fiver. Bit of a chancer, this one, he chuckled.

I shook Jeremys hand. Come on in, I said.

And mind the step! Kieron added. He and Bob were now just behind me, having obviously come to say hello.