After work, I stopped at Miss Ora Humphries’s house to pick up Noah, who was playing on the porch with Miss Ora’s granddaughter, Keke, a deaf black girl who was Noah’s best friend.
“Hello, Mr. C!” Keke beamed as I walked up the porch and found her standing over Noah, whose long blond hair has been done up in cornrows complete with beads. Noah glanced up at me, smiling. The frightened, insecure little bed-wetting boy who needed skin time this morning was gone.
“Hello,” I said to both of them.
Do you like it? Noah asked.
Sure, I said. She put in beads this time. Cool!
He grinned.
They were both wearing Deaf Pride T-shirts.
“I’m sorry, Wiley,” Miss Ora said, coming out the front door and throwing a disapproving look on the kids. “Gon’ be a mess to get that out of his hair, I know, but
