“I don’t want to go to that school,” Tobias Hawk, age sixteen whined. The great big white shaggy dog by his side barked, rubbing against his leg.

“And neither does Maxwell,” the teen said, rubbing Maxwell’s head.

Sari Hawk sighed, looking up. Her long dark hair was pulled up into a bun; it looked like the thirty-four-year-old woman was ready for a long day of work.

“Tobias, I don’t have time for this,” Sari said, “you are going to that school. It caters to your needs, Tobias.” 

Tobias pursed his lips together, crossing his arms, in doing so, letting go of Maxwell’s leash. “I don’t need special treatment!” Tobias yelled, defiance in his voice.

As if to prove his point, he slowly took a step away from Maxwell and Sari, walking toward the kitchen door.

Maxwell barked, biting the back of Tobias’ shirt. Tobias had nearly tripped over the kitchen chair that somebody had forgotten to push in.

“Tobias,” Sita sighed, “you are blind. I know it’s hard, but you have to get used to it.”

Maxwell whined when he saw tears on his master’s face. “No, you don’t know it’s hard, mom. You have no idea. You have no idea how it is each morning, waking up, expecting to see the bright sunlight, but then you remember, ‘oh, I’m blind.’”

“You don’t know what it’s like not to be able to see the simple things you take for granted; like the flowers newly blooming outside, or the baby blue jays learning how to first fly.”

Sita felt her heart pinch. No, she didn’t know; not truly. “I’m sorry,” Sita whispered, walking over to Tobias.

Tobias raised his head, his useless eyes seeming to look right at Sita’s face.

“I don’t know. You’re right. I can only imagine what it is like.” Sita engulfed Tobias in a hug, putting her arms around Maxwell when the dog nudged her side, feeling left out.

“Please don’t make me go to the school, mom. With Maxwell’s help, I can go to a regular school. It will take a lot of work to keep up, but I can do it. I can,” Tobias said, his voice passionate.

Sita sighed, biting her lower lip. She didn’t want to say why she was really against Tobias going to a normal public school. It was heart wrenching to say, but Tobias was the perfect victim for bullies. 

And she knew it would be hard for the blind boy to make friends. At least at the school, he’d be around other kids with the same, or similar disabilities. 

“Please, please,” Tobias begged. Maxwell barked, as if he too was begging.

“I-I . . . Tobias . . . ” Sita began, “I want to do what makes you happy, but you know . . . ”

He didn’t have to be able to see to know his mother was scared and had a worried look on her face. He could hear it all in her trembling voice.

“I know,” Tobias whispered, “but I’m willing to risk that, because I don’t want to be treated like an invalid just because I’m blind. I can do things, the same as the other kids; it will just take longer for some things.”

“It’s hard for me to say, but, Tobias, you can’t do everything a person with sight can, you know that.”

“Right, I can’t bungee jump, but who cares, I didn’t want to do that when I could see,” Tobias joked to lighten the mood, and to get a smile from his mother. He may not be able to see it, but when she smiles, her voice changes.

“Oh, you . . . ” Sita chucked, ruffling Tobias’ black hair.

Tobias’ milky grey eyes crinkled, as he smiled. 

Maxwell barked and even he sounded like he was smiling.

“What’s going on here?” A male voice asked.

Sita looked up, seeing her husband, “oh, John, Tobias and I . . . ” Maxwell nudged Sita’s leg, “and Maxwell were having a little talk . . . ”

John paled, “*the* talk . . . ?”

Tobias blushed, rolling his useless eyes, “dad, I’m not a baby, I already know about *that* stuff.”

“Well, excuse me, the way she said it . . . ” John trailed off, “okay, what talk then?”

“About school.”

“Oh,” John said, after hearing Sita say that.

Tobias bit his lower lip, “Please, please, please!” Maxwell barked.

“Well . . . ” John began.

Sita rubbed a hand over her eyes, feeling tears misting. She didn’t want to let her baby go to a public school.

Tobias tensed up; Maxwell growled, noticing his master’s emotion. “Mom, why are you crying?” Tobias asked, holding onto his mother tightly.

John rushed over to their side, taking Tobias and Sita into his arms; Maxwell once again wiggled into the group hug.

“I’m sorry, I just . . . I remember like it was yesterday . . . ” Sita sobbed.

“Shh,” Tobias said, “don’t be sad.”

“I just wish . . . wish I would have kept you home that day, then maybe . . . maybe . . . ”

Sita and Tobias closed their eyes, the scene from last summer playing in their heads.

“Tobias, can you hear us?” An elderly sounding voice asked.

“I’m not getting any reaction from him pupils,” a young nurse said, her voice sounding worried.

“What, I don’t understand what’s going on?” Tobias whimpered. Why could he hear these people and not see them? His eyes were wide open.

“Tobias!” A woman exclaimed. Tobias perked up at that voice, at once knowing it was his mother.

“Mom.”

“Oh, thank goodness, we were afraid you wouldn’t wake up.”

“What happened?” Tobias asked.

Sita moved over to her son’s bed and set down on the edge of it. “A semi driver got too close to the sidewalk and its mirror it you in the face. You’ve been in a coma for two weeks.”

“I have?”

”Yes, your father and I have been going out of our minds.” Sita placed a hand on Tobias’ hand, making the boy jump. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“What’s wrong with my eyes? Why can’t I see?”

“Son, I’m Doctor Todd. We’ve run every test we can think of, but nothings worked. Your eyesight is no more. The impact of the accident was too much for your eyes to stand.”

“Enough of thinking of the past and what we cannot change,” John gently said, bringing his family out of their memories.

“You’re right, of course, dear,” Sita said. She took a deep breath, then smiled down at Tobias.

“All right, Tobias.”

Tobias perked up. His mom was smiling. He could always tell. He’d gotten so used to reading people around him.

“Yes, mom?”

Sita looked at John and John nodded.

“You can go to public school,” Sita said.