Stan stifled a yawn as he glanced up at Sam’s face. The tall man gave no indication of being sleepy, though Stan knew for a fact he hadn’t slept much at all. Maybe Sam was always tired and that’s why he was so good at keeping up a well-rested front.

As expected, Mia had called shortly after eight, not quite in a panic, only just slightly. Sam had reassured her that everything was fine and that they’d be meeting at Gallaudet as planned.

Then, after Sam drank his usual pot’s worth of coffee, they’d taken the Metro to Union Station and caught the shuttle to the Kellogg Conference Center.

“Are you even tired at all?” Stan asked.

Sam glared at him.

“I’m sure there’s more coffee inside.” Stan jerked his head at the building. “In case your insides aren’t in enough knots already.”

Stan led the way under the awning to the breakfast area inside the conference center.

On the other side of the automatic doors, the air smelled of sausage and frying eggs, and the small dining area buzzed with activity. Stan spotted the back of Dr. Davalos’s bald head and walked toward them.

“Morning, you lot.” Stan smiled as he walked up to the table.

“About time, Fish Face.” Karl spoke around a mouthful of bacon. “Where you’d go?”

“How are you still eating breakfast?” Stan stared at him. “It’s tea time.”

“I always have time for bacon.”

“It shows in your physique,” Sam grumbled.

“Thanks, Lurch!” Karl shoved another strip of bacon in his mouth.

Mia chuckled and stood up from her empty mug. “Do you need some coffee, Sam?”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Need and want are two separate things. He’s already drank his hotel dry.”

Sam folded his arms across his chest and grunted, which indicated in Sam-speak that he was irritated but too tired to do anything about it.

Dr. Davalos pushed his chair back as he stood. “I bet Gideon will have coffee.”

Stan brightened. “I’m properly chuffed to meet Gideon. He sounds nice.”

“He’s very nice.” Mia took his arm. “You’ll like him very much.”

“I bet he’s got stories.” Karl rubbed his hands together with a devilish smile.

Sam ignored him, but he narrowed his eyes at Karl as though he had laser vision and could slice him in half with a look.

One of the servers came up to the table and began to clear the plates away with a glance at them. Stan had met her the previous morning. Kristen, the name on her badge said. He’d tried to talk to her, but she’d waggled her fingers at him and smiled.

Yesterday, Dr. Davalos had guessed she was deaf, since that was the university’s specialty.

Suddenly, Mia released Stan’s arm and turned to Sam. “Sam, would you thank her for us?”

Sam froze, eyes wide as his gaze shifted between Mia and the girl cleaning the table.

Stan glanced at Mia and back to Sam. What was Mia asking? She knew Kristen couldn’t hear, so why would asking Sam to thank her make any difference?

Slowly, Sam’s shoulders sloped in resignation as he rolled his eyes. With one hand, he reached out toward Kristen and waggled his fingers much in the same one Kristen had yesterday. Instantly, the girl’s face lit up, and she signaled back at him with a beaming smile.

Stan gazed at Sam in awe.

He knows sign language? Stan grinned. Blimey, is there anything he doesn’t know?

Kristen and Sam exchanged a few more signs before the girl walked off, smiling radiantly. Sam turned to Mia with a glare.

“She likes you,” Sam said. “She thinks you guys are nice.”

“How do you know that? She didn’t say nothing.” Karl stuffed another piece of bacon in his mouth.

Sam glowered at him.

“You do know sign language.” Mia smiled. “Gideon said your mom taught here, so I guessed you would know it too.”

“Sign language?” Karl craned his neck to look up at Sam. “All that finger waving was talking?”

“Finish shoving that bacon down your throat, or I’ll do it for you.”

“Boys.” Dr. Davalos leveled a stern look at both of them.

Sam snorted and turned on his heel, marching toward the doors. “I’ll be outside whenever you idiots are ready to leave.”

Stan stared after him and gently took Mia’s arm. “His mother taught here?”

Mia nodded. “Gideon told us last night.”

“I can’t wait to meet this guy.” Karl shoved his chair back and sucked the bacon grease off his fingers.

Mia handed him a napkin, and he looked at it confused.

“So, if Sam’s mother taught at a university for the deaf,” Stan started, “does that mean she was deaf?”

Mia and Dr. Davalos exchanged a look.

“She was,” Mia said. “I know, it surprised me too.”

“Well, we don’t really know much about Sam, after all.” Stan shrugged. “But that is rather extraordinary.”

“Hey,” Karl snickered, tossing the unused napkin on the tabletop. “I know sign language.”

“Nobody wants to see the sign language you know, Karl.” Dr. Davalos grabbed his shoulder and steered him toward the door. “Trust me on that one.”

Karl groaned in disappointment.

Mia and Stan walked after them.

“So, you want to tell me why you took off last night?” Mia glanced down at him.

Stan tucked his arm into hers. “Sam called me.”

She blinked in surprise. “He did? On the phone?”

Stan met her eyes. “No, not on the phone.”

Mia’s expression blanked. “Oh. Oh, wow. I didn’t know he’d figured out how to call that way.”

Stan sighed. “He hasn’t. I don’t think he meant to do it.”

Mia’s grip on his arm tightened. “Was he all right?”

“He’s having nightmares, Mia. Horrible ones.”

Mia shut her eyes. “I was afraid of that. He wouldn’t tell me anything, though.”

“Nor I. But you know, Sam. He’s not very open about anything he feels, outside of being angry at everyone.” Stan bit his lip. “But whatever he’s seeing in his dreams has him terrified, Mia. And I don’t know about you, but anything that scares Sam, worries me.”

Mia nudged his shoulder. “Well, maybe together we can talk him through it.”

“Aye. Maybe.”

Sam waited for them at the end of the awning, leaning on the support pillar like the hero out of a detective novel. It was something about the way the light hit him, streaming in shimmering rays on either side of his shoulders while his hands were shoved in his pockets.

“Know where we’re going?” Dr. Davalos paused beside him.

Sam didn’t answer and pushed off the pillar. He started walking down one of the wider sidewalks on the Gallaudet campus.

Karl trudged along behind him, whistling off key. Dr. Davalos trailed behind Karl, thumbing through a brochure he’d found somewhere. Mia and Stan brought up the rear.

What must it have been like to grow up with a deaf parent? Stan focused on the weary lift and fall of Sam’s footsteps. Was she born deaf, or was there an accident? And—oh, buttons—we’re all assuming that Sam isn’t deaf.

Stan turned his eyes on Mia. “Mia?”

“Yes?”

“Are we sure—do we know—Can Sam hear all right?”

Mia drew back. “I think so. I just assumed. You know, Stan, I’ve never asked.”

They reached the edge of the campus in a few minutes of walking, and Sam led them down a side road to 1135 Queen Street Northeast. Sam paused in front of the old blue rowhouse, hands still in his pocket.

Stan released Mia’s arm and walked up to him.

“Sam?”

Sam glanced down at him with one eyebrow arched. “What?”

“I just realized,” Stan started slowly, “I’d never—but I don’t want to be—we were just wondering—”

“My mother was deaf. I can hear just fine.” Sam brushed past him and walked to the door.

Stan nodded and smiled back at Mia.

Hopefully Karl doesn’t pry too deeply. I get the feeling Sam isn’t really happy to be here.

Sam rang the doorbell, and in moments, the cheerful blue door swung open, revealing a tall man with a wide, happy grin.

“Sam, that better be you.” The old man blinked milky eyes as he hung onto the door frame.

“It’s us, Gid.”

“Hey!” The old man laughed. “Come in! Come in! Don’t hover on the street. You might get shot.”

Karl paled. “Shot? Like with a gun?”

“Come on, Karl.” Mia took his arm and guided him into the house.

“But I don’t want to get shot, Mia.”

“Nobody wants to get shot.”

Gideon’s home didn’t look old on the inside, even though the outside made it look like any other rowhouse on the block. Bright, shining redwood floors. Subway tile walls. Stainless steel appliances in a remodeled, open-concept kitchen. A comfortable gray sofa leaned against the wall, flanked by two big upholstered armchairs. 

The stairwell at the front of the house led up to what Stan assumed were the bedrooms. The wall opposite the sofa was lined with bookshelves, which were loaded with more books than Stan could count.

Dr. Davalos shook Gideon’s hand, and the old man took Sam’s shoulder as soon as he stepped through the door.

“Sam, you’d best introduce me, or I’m going to start telling stories.”

“Oh, tell stories!” Karl grinned.

Sam glared at him. “Gideon, you met Dr. Davalos and Mia last night. Today we brought Stan and Karl.”

“Which one is which?”

“Karl’s the loud one.”

“So the other one doesn’t talk?”

“No, sir. I talk.” Stan squared his shoulders.

“What is that? British?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Want some tea?”

Stan glanced at Sam, who regarded the old blind man with a disbelieving stare.

“Sure, I’d love some tea.”

Gideon clapped his big, calloused hands together once and walked away from Sam, holding on to the wall as he did so. “You all sit down. Get comfy. If you find a light, you can turn it on. I never do.”

“Why not?” Karl asked, flopping on the sofa at the center of the house.

Gideon paused in the middle of the room and tilted his head. “You’re not very sharp, are you, boy?”

Sam snickered. Dr. Davalos sat on the other end of the sofa, and Mia sat on Karl’s other side.

Gideon shuffled off into the kitchen, and soon the sound of boiling water filled the room.

Instead of sitting, Stan wandered over to the bookshelf and ran his fingers along the spines of all the books. He peered into the bookshelf, trying to read the titles, but there didn’t seem to be anything written on the spines. Just series of raised dots.

Curiously, Stan pulled a book off the shelf and opened it, but there was no writing inside. At least, not writing he recognized. Each page was covered in more of the strange raised dots, row after row of them.

“Sam?” Stan looked up at his older friend.

Sam leaned over his shoulder, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Is this Braille?” Stan asked quietly.

“No, it’s Morse Code.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Of course, it’s Braille, Stan. Did you think he was going to have a library full of regular books?”

Stan shut the front cover and turned it over. “What story is this?”

“I can sign, so I can read Braille too?” Sam growled.

“Is that a no?”

“Yeah, that’s a no.” Sam stalked toward one of the upholstered chairs and sat down in a huff.

“So do all you folks work together?” Gideon called from the kitchen.

“Yes,” Mia replied. “Karl and Stan are also some of the boys my grandpa adopted.”

“Well, that’s just fine.” Gideon lifted a steaming electric kettle and managed to fill a teapot full of the boiling water. “I hope you all like your tea strong, but I got some milk in the fridge. Sam, come get some milk and set it out for these folks.”

Sam grunted irritably from the chair. He stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Karl stared after him in shock.

Stan didn’t blame him. Nobody told Sam Logan what to do. And even if someone tried, Sam would never do it.

Well, apparently, Mr. Gideon is different.

“So what is on the agenda for you all today?” Gideon shuffled back into the living area with a tray covered in cups and the single large tea pot.

He set the tray on the table and felt his way to the other chair.

“I think we were going to do a bit more sightseeing,” Mia said.

“A few more things to check off the list, Dr. Davalos said. “Then an early night. Our flight tomorrow is ridiculous.”

“An early one, huh?” Gideon laughed. He sat down. “Please, help yourself to tea.”

Mia began pouring cups for everyone.

“Mr. Gideon?” Stan began.

“Stan, right? The British one?”

“Right.” Stan approached him. “I was looking at your books. I was wondering which one this is?” He held the heavy volume out.

Gideon reached out and felt it, taking it from him and turning it until his fingers found the title embossed on the cover. “Ah, this is MacBeth.”

“MacBeth?” Mia smiled. “By Shakespeare?”

“Oh, I love me some Shakespeare.” Gideon’s eyes twinkled in her direction. “That man knew how to tell a story.”

Dr. Davalos accepted a cup of tea from Mia and sat back in the couch cushions. “MacBeth is one of the darker plays he wrote.”

“It’s a good one.” Gideon nodded sagely. “Sam, remember when we dressed up the neighborhood kids and did a play? Fair is foul, and foul is fair.”

Sam scowled and grunted. “Yeah, but we didn’t do MacBeth. We did something less awful.”

“What one was it that you played the fairy king?” Gideon mused.

Sam shriveled in the chair.

“You did what?” Karl cackled.

“Shut up, Karl.”

“A fairy king?” Karl howled with laughter.

Sam lifted his tea cup. “This tea is really hot, you know. And you’re close enough I can spill it all over your pants.”

Karl stopped laughing and froze with a nervous expression, eyes trained on Sam’s tea cup. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. And I don’t miss.”

Karl glared at Stan. “You told him, didn’t you?”

Stan held up his hands and shook his head, though inside he was laughing.

Good on Sam for paying attention.

“Oh, yes. We read a lot of Shakespeare.” Gideon steepled his fingers. “Lots of the other classics too. Shelley. Wilde. Cooper. Marner. We read Moby Dick in one week. That was impressive.”

“Moby Dick?” Karl sat up.

“It’s a dumb book about a whale.” Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s eight hundred pages, and you don’t see the dumb whale until fifty pages from the end.”

“It’s Melville.” Gideon shrugged. “He talks a lot.”

“No, Fish Face and I found a place we wanted to eat for lunch,” Karl said.

“Oh, the kebab place up in Dupont Circle.” Gideon nodded. “That’s a good one. We should go there.”

“Kebabs?” Dr. Davalos perked up. “Thank God. Finally some decent food.”

“Karl, how are you still hungry? You ate half a pig for breakfast.” Mia marveled.

“I’m a growing boy, Mia.” Karl patted his belly.

Gideon laughed out loud. “I don’t know who this boy is, but I like him. Sounds like he eats as much as I do.”

“He eats more than you do,” Sam snarled.

Gideon laughed again, a bright, cheerful, jolly sound.

Stan smiled at how the old man showed his teeth when he laughed, but his smile faded as he regarded Sam in the chair across from him. If anyone had told him that Gideon had raised Sam, Stan wouldn’t have believed it. Gideon just seemed so happy all the time. How could someone like Gideon have raised someone like Sam?

Stan poured himself a cup of tea and sipped it.

Gideon was right. It was strong.

In the light from the open windows, the sun shone on Gideon’s graying hair and highlighted the thousands of laugh lines around his sightless eyes. How fortunate that they’d met him.

Sam hadn’t said much the night before, but Stan had felt it as acutely as though it had been said aloud.

Sam was leaving.

Stan had suspected it for a few weeks, ever since Mia and Ryan had announced their engagement.

Sam had always been surly and distant, but in the last few weeks, he’d disappeared even further into himself. That’s when he’d stopped sleeping. That’s when his nightmares had begun.

Sam obviously wasn’t happy about having to introduce them all to Gideon, but maybe it was the best thing that could have happened to all of them. Maybe Gideon could provide some much-needed insight into the kind of person Sam actually was before it was too late.

With Gideon’s help, maybe Sam would let the rest of them help him.