It’s this way, I signed to Michael Daniels, a young deaf man I’d helped place at a furniture factory just outside the Tupelo city limits.
Today was his first day. Fitting that it was Monday, even though the shop would be closed on Thursday and Friday for New Year’s. Apparently they had a lot of orders and needed as much help as they could get, holidays be damned.
Are you nervous? I asked.
He nodded miserably.
You’ll be fine, I assured him.
Thank you for your help, Mr. C. I want to work. I want to pay for my own things.
I know you do, M. I think you’ll like it here.
We walked through the parking lot in the cold as we made our way to the employee entrance.
Michael Sumner was young, black, good-looking in his own way, but very deaf and rather awkward. Like a teenager, he seemed to be
