Prairie Fire

by Djuna Shellam

  Em shook her head and grinned sheepishly, “Well, I wish it was more dramatic than it was, but…” she began her story as Prairie, triumphant, settled back onto her bed.

  15.2—Walk On The Wild Side

  Waiting for Dot to come on the line, Prairie toyed with the plastic elf on her desk. She wondered who put the elf there, if it was supposed to mean something, or…

  “Hey, gal. Merry Christmas!” Dot joyfully greeted Prairie.

  “Hi, Dot. Merry Christmas to you, too! How have you been?” Prairie asked, switching the phone to her other ear, anxious to get the niceties out of the way so she could share her big news.

  “Oh, good, good,” Dot replied. And she was. The next day she was off to spend the holidays with Ivey and her young son. She was on top of the world. “You?”

  “Well, I called to tell you… I feel like there should be a drum roll or something.” Prairie laughed. “Anyway, Em’s going to walk today!”

  “What?!”

  “I know! She’s going to take her first steps in about an hour. I wanted you to know…”

  “Oh, I can’t believe it! That’s great news, Prairie!” Dot wiped the sudden tears from her eyes. “What happened? The last time we spoke you said she was still being a brat…”

  Prairie laughed. “She accidentally locked herself out of the house and spent the afternoon on the porch by herself. It woke her up.”

  “Why, that’s the best dadgummed Christmas present I’ve ever had!” Dot exclaimed.

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Prairie concurred.

  “Lordy…” Dot heaved a sigh of relief having been so afraid Em would never walk again. “That’s just…”

  “I know,” Prairie replied softly, sharing Dot’s relief.

  ~/~/~/~/~

  “This is going to be easy, Em. Piece of cake. You’ve got this,” Prairie reassured Em, her voice just above a whisper.

  “I’m going to fall, Prairie,” Em replied, almost to herself.

  “No you’re not. You’ve got your new brace on, a shiny new walker, and… I’m right here.” Prairie said tenderly, touching Em’s arm with an intimacy that sent a shiver through her.

  Em’s sigh nearly betrayed her feelings for Prairie.

  It had come down to this moment. The moment of truth when Em would take her first steps using a walker—without Prairie by her side, holding her up. Members of Prairie’s staff stood at the periphery of the therapy room, careful not to be seen, in order to witness Prairie’s big triumph. They knew she’d been frustrated with Em, doubting her skills over a patient who fought Prairie at every turn, who was angry at life and convinced she would never walk again. But Prairie refused to accept Em’s defeatist attitude and kept after her, relentlessly, demanding Em give herself a chance for success.

  Was she Wonder Woman as everyone called her? No. Prairie knew it wasn’t just her, but the unique and unforeseen circumstances of the situation. If the creepy molester hadn’t attacked Em, Em would still be in the hospital and most probably, little progress would have been made—and Prairie might be looking for a new job. Locking herself out of the house was definitely fortuitous, giving her a big shove. But after only three months of living in the house with Prairie and her housemates, Em had made a miraculous turnaround.

  It wasn’t just physically, it was Em’s attitude in general that had improved dramatically. Prairie knew the credit belonged mostly to her amazing adopted family who had taken Em under their collective wing and loved her as one of them. In particular, Barbie and Gwen had taken Em on as their own, staying with her or taking her places when Prairie had to work or was otherwise occupied. The resulting product was that Em had become a person who Prairie actually enjoyed being around. The monster that had arrived several months earlier had all but disappeared.

  Em stood rigidly, afraid, her hands gripping the walker so tightly the veins on her hands bulged, whitening her knuckles. The walker quivered slightly under the undue stress. She wanted this almost more than she’d wanted anything else in her life, and was afraid of failing, and of success. The pressure was crushing. She was too aware of the crowd that had formed, despite their attempt to remain unseen. She also knew Prairie’s reputation was riding on this one step. Em knew that as soon as she was able to walk, her safe little world that she had come to love might change in ways she probably wouldn’t like or control.

  For so long Em had resisted Prairie’s attempts to help her regain the ability to walk. She was angry at the terrible hand she’d been dealt, and sad beyond measure by what brought her to Prairie in the first place. When Prairie moved her into the house with all of her roommates, who had opened their hearts to her almost from the beginning, she’d never been so happy in her entire life. It took her a while to get comfortable, but they gave her room to do so, and never gave up on her. They were the family she’d craved throughout her childhood, and Prairie had become a true friend who she knew she could rely on for anything. Em loved them all, but especially Prairie.

  She didn’t know when her fondness for Prairie changed from friendship to something else, but when it did, it was surprising. After Alice, Em never thought she could love again, or experience such a deep emotional bond with another woman. Prairie, being Prairie, didn’t seem to notice or care that Em had developed a deeper affection for her. Prairie had a way about her Em found incredibly intriguing. She was an unrelenting flirt, which at first, Em found disconcerting and even uncomfortable. Prairie flirted with everyone in a charming way. Men, women, children, dogs… it didn’t matter—it was just her way.

  Once Em stopped hating Prairie, she began to crave Prairie’s playful flirting. She also feared it. She did everything in her power to ignore Prairie’s overtures, knowing if she didn’t, her face would ultimately unmask emotions she didn’t want exposed. On top of everything else, Em felt an incredible sense of betrayal to Alice for how she felt about Prairie. Alice had been her everything. Her one and only forever love. How could she even begin to entertain passion for another woman?

  Em gripped the walker even tighter. She had to focus—clear her mind of all of its distractions.

  “Come on now. You can do this, Em.” Prairie, holding on to Em, attempted to release her hold on her. “The walker’s all yours. You’re the boss.”

  “No, not yet…” Em’s entire body began to shake.

  “Em…” Prairie made a face that said she wasn’t messing around, and slowly let go of Em. “There. Not so bad, eh?” she said as she slowly stepped away from her trembling patient and friend.

  Em teetered slightly, but kept her balance.

  “Take a deep breath.”

  Em slowly drew her breath in, her body shaking even more as she did.

  “You’re good. Now let it out.”

  Em felt as if she was in a dream, standing in place, unsure of her own body, her head swimming with doubts, fears and hopefulness.

  “Now focus. Just one step is all we need,” Prairie continued her coaching. “There’s no hurry, okay? You can do this.”

  Em nodded with hesitation, trying with every part of her to believe Prairie.

  “Whenever you’re ready, Em. Take your life back.”

  The room became still. So still the sounds of the building amplified. The normally imperceptible hum of the fluorescents now overwhelmed her. Em stared at her feet, her eyes wide with fear, and tried to remember what it felt like to walk. To be free of pain and be independent. It had been six horrible months, and operation after operation to get her to this point. What if she couldn’t do it? All of that torture, all of that waiting, would be for nothing. She wanted to walk again. She needed to walk again.

  The room erupted into cheers and applause, startling Em out of her thoughts. Her eyes darted around the room. She was bewildered.

  “What?” she asked Prairie.

  “What? What?” Prairie asked incredulously. “You did it!” she exclaimed as she hugged Em. “One step for Em—one giant step…” Prairie didn’t finish the fa
mous quote, quickly realizing how stupid it would be. “Anyway, you did it!”

  “I did?”

  Prairie laughed. “Yes! I mean, it was a little wobbly and on the wild side, but you did it. Did you somehow miss that momentous event?” Prairie laughed again with great happiness and relief.

  Calls of congratulations rang out from the dispersing crowd until only Em and Prairie were left in the large treatment room.

  “I guess I…” Em shook her head quickly as if to clear it of cobwebs. She did miss it. She was so in her own head, pumping herself up to take just one step, she missed it entirely.

  “Oh, just wait ’til the fam hears about this, Em! I think we should have a party tonight to celebrate. A little pre-Christmas, Em’s got her legs back party,” Prairie did a half jig, half hopping, dance. “Whooohooo!”

  “Can I do it again?” Em asked with excitement.

  “Are you kidding? It’s all I can do to not suggest a victory jog around the hospital!” Prairie laughed again. Life is good, she thought. Really good. She grabbed a nearby chair and plopped it next to Em. “Let’s have a little rest first. Come on. Have a seat, champ.”

  Em sat down with Prairie’s help, and tried to prepare herself to take the next steps in her life’s journey. She was filled with mixed emotions. Now what? Would Prairie move on to her next patient and forget about her? Would she have to leave the home she’d grown to love so deeply, and the people in it she loved even more? She didn’t know the answers to any of her questions which gave her pause, and somewhat dampened her excitement about walking again.

  By the end of the session, Em had taken a total of ten steps using the walker—an average of one step every six minutes, but they were significant steps. With each wild and unsteady step, Em grew more and more conflicted. She was excited by her progress, yet afraid of the ultimate outcome.

  15.3—Merry Christmas

  Gwen had prepared a spectacular Christmas Eve dinner for the household members. Em thought it was the best meal Gwen had made since she first moved into the house—but she thought that after every one of Gwen’s dinners. After dinner, Em spent the evening enjoying the company of her new extended family who she had grown to adore. For the first time since her arrival, Em felt as if she belonged, and no longer felt she was an outsider, or “the new girl.”

  Everything about the evening, she thought, was perfect. The house was decorated from stem to stern for the holiday, compliments of Gwen, with the willing, yet subservient help of Barbie and Macie on the inside, and Chip on the outside. When she was growing up, Em’s own family celebrated Christmas, but the decorations in her childhood home were always understated and simple. The bare minimum was meant to acknowledge the occasion of the birth of Jesus, but nothing more. Not so at the Hill Top house. Gwen went all out with lights of every size, shape and color—twinkling, chasing and otherwise—ornaments, wreaths and seasonal tchotchkes of every sort imaginable. It almost seemed as if every vacant inch in the house was adorned with something Christmasy. It just could not have been a better expression of the season in Em’s opinion.

  The entire household came to an agreement that Christmas Eve was the adult time to celebrate Christmas—Christmas morning was for kids; and so, presents between the household members were merrily exchanged after dinner. Despite her protests, Em received a small gift from everyone except Prairie as they had mutually agreed not to exchange gifts. Much to her embarrassment, Em’s own current financial situation precluded her from buying anyone anything, though she was the only one who seemed to mind.

  For Christmas Day, the entire household planned to drive up to Mt. Baldy for some fun in the snow, followed by dinner at the Wagon Wheel restaurant—a tradition from Barbie and Gwen’s first Christmas together.

  In past years, Prairie would have traveled home to her native Montana for Christmas—if possible. But because she didn’t want to leave Em on her own, Prairie chose to stay in California—postponing her visit to Montana until sometime after the first of the year. It was a true sacrifice for Prairie who loved her biological family dearly. Christmas was one of her all-time favorite times to spend with them, but she had grown to care about Em’s well-being, and couldn’t bear to leave her behind. Not after they’d made so much progress.

  Prairie considered taking Em to her family’s house in Montana for the holiday, but didn’t feel Em was physically ready for such a stressful trek, which it would be during the holiday travel rush. Thankful her California “family” was as wonderful as it was—it made not going home easier for Prairie than she’d ever admit.

  While the household members told stories, laughed and teased each other after dinner, Em quietly observed them as she let the holiday atmosphere in the home envelope her completely, wrapping her in an aura of love and holiday cheer. She felt certain as she sat there, absorbing each little detail, that she would never forget that night, counting it as one of the best Christmases she remembered.

  “Where you going?” Prairie asked Em who was pushing herself off the chair, attempting to stand.

  “I need to go lie down,” Em replied as she grabbed the walker. “It’s after ten, and my leg…” she said softly. Once stiffness began to settle in her leg and hip—sitting became excruciating. “You need help?” Prairie asked as she got up and went over to Em.

  “No, no… I’m good, Prair.” Em smiled.

  “Okay. I’ll be there in a bit. Holler if you need anything, okay?”

  Em nodded, bid adieu to her roommates, then retired to her room.

  ~/~/~/~/~

  Shortly after midnight, Prairie slid open the pocket door from the back porch walkway. Em was already in bed, engrossed in a novel. Prairie grinned broadly as she stepped into their room and stood at the foot of Em’s bed. “Merry Christmas, Em,” Prairie said with quiet excitement.

  “What?” Em looked up. “Is it already?” she asked, checking her wrist for the time. “Oh, wow. It is! Merry Christmas to you, too, Prairie.” Em smiled warmly. She was feeling comfortable and happy in her home with Prairie and her new roommates. She actually felt merry which was a completely foreign feeling for her.

  As Prairie continued to stand at the foot of the bed, with a Cheshire Cat grin, Em looked quizzically at her. She cocked her head and squinted her eyes at Prairie, wondering what was up.

  Prairie took a quick breath. “I got you something,” she confessed shyly.

  “Prairie…” Em replied in a panic. “I thought we weren’t…”

  “I know, I know,” Prairie admitted apologetically. “And I didn’t, don’t, expect you to… get me anything. We agreed. I know. And anyway, this isn’t a Christmas present, Em. It’s more like…” Prairie reached around through the door to the walkway, snatched something just on the other side of the wall, and quickly hid it behind her back. “You’re going to need this really soon, and… so… I thought…”

  Prairie beamed as she took a few steps toward Em lying in her bed, and revealed what was hidden behind her back. She proudly presented a handcrafted walking cane made with exotic woods.

  “Ta da!”

  Em gasped. The natural wood cane was beautiful and exquisitely made. “Prairie, it’s…”

  “I thought it might be a little bit of an incentive… y’know, for you to get off the walker. Sooner than later,” Prairie explained, almost bashfully. “Here, take it,” Prairie urged, smiling proudly.

  With hesitation, Em took the wood cane from Prairie. She caressed the smooth wood, the inlays, and examined the craftsmanship. She didn’t say anything for what seemed to Prairie to be a long time, but was actually less than a minute. Em looked at Prairie and gushed with awe, “My gosh, Prairie… it’s so… beautiful!”

  “Oh! Whew! Thank goodness!” Prairie expressed with relief. “I wasn’t sure… I was worried you’d… Well, I’m glad you like it.”

  “Like it?” Em expressed passionately. “Are you kidding? Oh, Prairie, I love it,” Em said, wanting to cry. Her emotions were completely mixed. She kne
w she would soon need a cane—for a long time to come, if not forever. The very thought of it had always made her feel sad, thinking of using some type of government issue cane—an ugly cane that would make her ugly. Prairie’s cane completely changed her mind. She also couldn’t get over how thoughtful Prairie was to get her something so beautiful and special—that she really needed.

  “The handle is what they call a, um, Derby style, and it’s made out of… um…” Prairie looked to the ceiling, scouring her memory, trying to remember what the craftsman told her. “Oh, yeah, I remember. It’s Koa wood—from Hawaii. Eh? And the shaft, it’s Brazilian Ebony, and… um… uh… there’s some other kind of Ebony.” She laughed. “I don’t remember it all. The guy who made it just went on and on about everything. After a while, my head started to spin.” Prairie flashed a toothy smile at Em who was still admiring the beautiful walking stick.

  “I just… when I saw it, and how beautiful it was with the black grained wood, I thought of you. I mean, you know, that you’d probably love it. And, I mean, your cane is going to be, y’know, with you all the time.” Prairie suddenly felt awkward. “You, uh, shouldn’t have something ugly… with you… um, all the time. It should be beautiful—” like you, she wanted to say but smiled instead.

  “I don’t know what to say, Prairie,” Em said softly. “It’s the most… thoughtful present I’ve ever gotten. Really. Thank you.” Em immediately pressed her lips tightly together, obviously concerned about something. She sighed.

  “What is it?” Prairie asked, seeing that Em was clearly troubled.

  “I just wish…” Em sighed again. “I wish I had gotten you something. Well, that I could have gotten you something, but…” Em was still waiting for her money situation to be worked out. There was talk of an insurance settlement from the accident, and possibly disability, but all of that could take years. Until it was sorted out, she was existing on her small savings that was getting smaller by the day. She was self-conscious about not earning her own money, and hated that she couldn’t afford to buy Prairie a simple Christmas gift.