I laughed. “You got me. There’s a lot I’m curious about when it comes to your blindness. I just don’t want to bore you with my questions.”

“Nobody ever wants to talk to me about it. The kids from school who are like me don’t have to ask me questions because they know the answers. But adults, like, people we know or people in the street? It’s like they’re afraid.” He shrugged. “You can ask me.”

“I think people are afraid to be rude sometimes. It’s not really any of their business, even if they’re curious. But since you gave me permission to be nosy, maybe I’ll ask you some questions I’ve been wondering about.”

“Okay.”

“One thing I wonder is if you try to imagine what everything you encounter looks like.”

He thought about it for a moment before he said, “Sometimes, but it kind of freaks me out. I don’t know if I would want to know. Sometimes I think seeing things would be strange. I can’t imagine what that would be like.”

He was born blind, so that made sense. Not being able to see was all he knew. The concept of sight was probably overwhelming—all the lights and strange-ass people.

Still, I had to know. “If given a choice, would you want to see?”

He blinked several times. “Probably. I guess if I didn’t like it, I could just close my eyes. My eyes are closed half the time now anyway because I don’t need them.”

“You got a good point there, little dude. I never thought of it that way.” The questions kept popping into my head. “How come you don’t have a guide dog?”

“I could have one, but I don’t really go anywhere far away. Eden is with me, and if I’m not gonna be with her, I can use a pointer stick to feel things out.”

My dirty mind heard pointer stick and Eden and wandered to last night—feeling her out with my pointer stick. Last night was incredible.

I shook my head to bring myself back to the present. “So, you don’t need a dog then.”

I was ready to go buy him one.

“Eden says someday I might need one when I’m a little older and go more places without her.”

“Cool. I just wondered if there was a reason you didn’t have one.”

Ollie flashed an impish grin. “You want to see what I think you look like?”

“Uh…sure.”

“I drew you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. Let me get it.” He walked over to his desk and brought over a piece of construction paper. The drawing was unidentifiable. Actually, it looked sort of like a big cock with hair and eyes.

“This is how you envision me?” I chuckled.

“Yeah. I don’t know why. I don’t really know what you look like, but I have this idea. It’s weird. I don’t think I can even explain it.”

I can: I look like a big fucking dick to you.

“What does my drawing look like?” he asked.

“Um…I think if I squint my eyes enough, I can see myself in it. But it’s sort of like a…cylinder with eyes and hair. A great guess.” I handed him back the paper. “It’s fascinating to see what your imagination comes up with.”

“I understand shapes, but I don’t know colors. I don’t know the difference between white or black, blue or red, or anything else. They’re all just names to me.”

It hit me that in Ollie’s world, there was no such thing as judging someone by the color of their skin. If only everyone could live that way without having to lose their sight.

“You make movies, right?” he asked.

His question amused me. “I try. Yeah.”

“Action movies are great for people who can see and all, but someone like me? I need to hear things, listen to people talk. If a movie is mostly stuff you’re supposed to be watching and not hearing, I can’t enjoy it. You should make more movies I can listen to.”

Letting that sink in, I had a light-bulb moment. “I don’t think that’s something we consider enough. You’re right.”

Eden yelled from across the house, “Pancakes are ready!”

We joined her for breakfast in the kitchen, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Ollie’s words.

After we ate, I excused myself to step outside. I needed to call my father. I needed to tell him about my realization.

He picked up. “Son, where are you? Lorena said you were out of town for the weekend. You’re not back in Utah, are you?”

“Yes, I am.” I scratched my head. “Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Alright…”

“Have you ever considered what it might be like for someone to experience one of our movies if they couldn’t see?”

After a pause, he said, “Well, movies are visual, so I suppose I haven’t really thought about that, no.”

Pacing along the sidewalk, I said, “That’s an incorrect perception. Movies aren’t just visual. They’re comprised of sounds and good dialogue, and we’re making a mistake when we start to undermine how important those other things are. Think about it. If you close your eyes in the middle of a scene where there’s nothing but visual elements, what’s there? Nothing! Someone should be able to enjoy a movie even with their eyes closed. How could we not be taking this into consideration? For every compelling image in a movie, we need to match that with equally compelling dialogue and sounds.”