by Joe Cassilly
“Father, I haven’t heard Latin in several years.” His pace slowed. “The melody is comforting to me at times like this. It takes me back to a simpler time.”
He chuckled. “It also keeps the Protestants off guard. The Jews are onto somethin’ there with Hebrew. It keeps us all confused.” When I got back to the mess tent, the team was seated at a table with trays heaped with food. “Hey 60, you and the sky pilot talk to God?”
“Are you kidding,” I said. “God is a very long distance call from this place.”
“Jake. Hey, Jake.” It was Flo. “She’s finished, you can go.” I got off the mat and pushed outside. I found the shade of a tree and sat.
My workouts became longer and harder. I was trying to get the muscles that work to take over for the muscles that did not. I needed more naps. I was just waking up from one when one of the guys came to tell me that a Mr. Waters was on the phone for me. “Waters?” I wasn’t making the connection, but I only got two calls a month so I went to see what it was.
“Hello,” I said tentatively. “Mr. Scott, this Herbert Walters. I’ve got your car here with the hand controls. I could drop it off at the hospital—if this is a good time for you.”
With Ben’s death and my mother’s visit, I had forgotten the car. “Yes!” I semi-shouted. I reeled in my excitement. “I mean, yes thank you. Would you bring it all the way around the building to the back lot and I’ll meet you there?”
“Fine, we’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” I ran into the wall and a doorframe going outside. I sat shielding my eyes from the setting sun, squinting at the far end of the parking lot.
Joe White rolled out. “Hey, I’m on the way to chow. You going?” Before I said anything, Joe launched into the story of how he made out at home over Easter. He was planning to check out of this place in a couple of weeks. It was not registering in my brain. I saw it turn into the lot. It looked bluer and shinier, maybe because it was mine. I owned a car.
“Are you kidding me?” teased Joe White. “You were going to be late for chow waiting for that piece of shit?”
“Hey, don’t let me hold you up,” I said, pushing forward. Mr. Walters had some more papers for me to sign and then he showed me the manuals, the registration, and some of the gadgets in the car. All the time, I noticed Joe White circling it, looking through the windows.
When Mr. Walters left, Joe said, “So come on, ain’t you gonna take a ride?”
“What! And let you get in the chow line ahead of me and eat all those delicious grits? My momma didn’t raise no stupid children.” I pushed toward the mess hall.
Joe easily caught up to me. “You mean you been waiting all this time for that pile of junk and now you’re just gonna let it sit on the parking lot?”
“Later,” I said, “I’m hungry.” Actually, I had no appetite at all, but if I was about to make a fool of myself with the damn thing and wrap it around a tree, I’d just as soon do it without an audience. I stayed away from everyone after dinner and snuck to the car an hour before dark. I folded the footrests and collapsed the chair. Then, I sat the footrests on the edge of the doorframe. I slid across the front seat, slid the seat forward, and folded the back forward. I reached behind the seat, hooked my hand through the leather toe strap, and hauled the chair in. I took a deep breath, smiled broadly, and said, “Thank you, God.”
Then, I backed the wheelchair out, but something went wrong and it fell sideways. I had to lean out the door, while saying, “God, if you give me a decent pair of hands, I wouldn’t have to go through this crap,” and I dragged it into position. Then, I hooked my hand under it and hooked the other hand on the steering wheel and hauled it up. Every time I started to lose control, I swore and questioned what God was trying to teach me, but I got it upright. I unfolded it and got in. As I examined the side of the car, I invented some new curse words because the chair in falling had scratched the bluer and shinier surface.
I practiced loading and unloading four more times until after dark. I pushed inside and got a towel from the shower room to put on the backseat to protect it from the chair. Then, I loaded back in. I put the keys in the ignition and started it. I felt like a kid in the front car of the biggest, meanest roller coaster on earth. I was afraid that I would lose control of this big V-8. I thought of explaining to the VA what my car was doing parked inside of their hospital. And how would I explain it to the nice lady from the insurance company who had driven out to sell me insurance?
I pushed the hand control in tightly to hold the brake on as I moved the shifter to drive. I eased off the brake and the car started forward. I pushed on the brake. “Whoa!” The car slammed to a stop and threw me into the steering wheel. “Yes, remember the power brakes,” I mumbled to myself as I buckled the seat belt. I turned the car so that it was moving down the parking lot. I practiced a couple of times getting used to the brakes so that I brought it to a smooth stop.
Then, I drove the car out of the parking lot. In going around the corner, the force threw my shoulders into the center of the car and pulled my hands from the wheel. I quickly recovered, but not before I found myself going across the lawn. I jerked the wheel back toward the driveway and the tires cut big strips of sod. I brought it to a stop and glanced about to see if anyone had been watching. “Okay,” I reassured myself, “relax, you’ll get the hang of it.” I rubbed my eyes and blew out a deep breath. I would have to lean my shoulders into the curve for balance. I tightened the seatbelt.
I drove to the front entrance and looked at the cars whizzing by on the highway. I kept fighting the excitement. I was a big kid with the best present of my whole life. I rolled down the electric windows. I reached in my jacket pocket for a Beach Boys tape I had bought just for this occasion. I shoved it into the player and cranked up the volume. I clicked on the turn signal and pulled away from the hospital. The car accelerated smoothly and the wind flooded the car. “HOOOOOAAAAHH!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Freedom,” I said with a smile that spread so large that it hurt my cheeks, but, at the same time, I felt some tears. My happiness grew with each foot I drove from the hospital.
I came to a red light and managed to stop. The music was flowing from the car. A station wagon drove up in the lane beside me. I glanced over. There were three cute young women in the front seat. The one closest to me looked over at the car and then at me. I returned the look. She turned to the other two and said something. They all looked at me and the one in the middle waved. I waved back. Then, the driver puckered her lips and made a kissing motion. I smiled and nodded. The three of them laughed and when the light turned green, they all waved and made a left turn.
It struck me. “They don’t know I’m in a wheelchair, they can’t see my stupid hands or anything else that says I’m a cripple. They just see a guy in a neat car.” I wondered if I would ever get out of the car or just keep driving. Eventually, I pulled into a gas station and drove back onto the highway toward the hospital, reluctantly. When I got out of the car, I examined the scratch again. Joe White would know how to rub it out. I pushed to the door and turned for one last look before I looked up to heaven.
“Ben, you shoulda been with me,” I said loudly. “Nobody would have known we were a couple of cripples!”
27
A Bachelors’ Party
The next afternoon, when I got to Sam’s weight room, there was a new wheelchair sitting by the desk. Sam gestured, “Hey, boy, get on the mat there and let me fit your new wheels to you.” I lifted onto the mat. Sam shoved the hospital chair off to the side and rolled the new chair over. The chair was at least three inches narrower than the old one.
“So Sam I guess there won’t be a captain, or first sergeant, or a proclamation, huh?
Sam looked at me and said, “What the hell you talking bout?”
“The last decoration Uncle Sam gave me got pinned on my chest; this one gets pinned on my ass.” He shook his head.
I lifted into the seat. The new cushion was much firmer than the o
ld one. Sam adjusted the footrest height so that my thighs were just resting on the cushion. “You have to keep the circulation to your legs from being cut off,” explained Sam. “Take it for a spin.”
I gave it a push. “Wow, it’s great. It must be fifty pounds lighter than that truck I had!” The wheels being closer together not only made it easier to guide and steer between things, but it gave my arms a better angle to push from.
“You gotta keep those tires pumped up nice and hard or it will get harder to push,” reminded Sam. I pushed out of the therapy room and up the hill to my ward. The push rims on the wheels were coated with 145 soft plastic that gave my hands a better grip and made pushing and braking easier.
I went outside to the car. I got in and folded the chair. I pulled it in. Even folded, it was narrower. That and the lighter weight made it so much easier to pull in. “With this chair and this car, I am ready to get out of here.” I tried the sound of that on my self. That evening, I called Suzie to see when she would be down.
“Hello?”
“Suzie?”
“Hi, Jake.”
“Honey, you sound terrible. What’s wrong?”
“There’s some kind of creeping crud going around the hospital. All the patients and the staff have been catching it. Last weekend, I had to work double shifts so many nurses were out. I think I got run down and now I’ve caught it.”
“It’s not fatal, is it?”
“Only if you can die from stomach cramps and diarrhea. I don’t think I’m gonna be well enough to come by this weekend.”
“Well, it’s nothing personal, sweetheart, but the very last thing a guy in a wheelchair wants to catch is diarrhea.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess you would have trouble moving quickly.”
“Yes ma’am, you just feel free to keep your germs in D.C.”
“Look, I’ll be down next Friday. By the way, I saw Cathy.” Suzie’s voice had changed to that “so what happened?” tone.
“Yeah?” I played it as though I didn’t see what was coming.
“Did you talk to her?”
“Yeah.”
“And?!” Her voice hit a demanding note.
“Suzie, you know the answer. Look, I don’t think you’re going to change her mind. Don’t fight with her about it.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s getting into.”
“Listen, Mother Susan, if you keep beating on her, you’re going to lose the opportunity to just be her friend and love her in spite of her decision. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Her voice was hoarse.
“Suzie, I love you.”
“Goodbye.”
“Suzie, don’t be angry with me. Please.”
“I’m not, Jake. I’m tired.”
“Okay. Bye-bye.” I started to take the receiver from my ear.
“Jake, I love you too.”
“Thanks, sweetie. I needed that.”
I worked harder at everything the next few days. Thoughts of going home kept pushing into my head, but I kept finding reasons why I was not ready to go. That Saturday afternoon, I headed for the car to take a drive and get out of there. Joe White was just finishing some work on his car.
“Now what are you doing on that car?” I asked, not believing that there was a single part of that car he had not tinkered with at least twice.
“I just mounted some speakers in the doors.”
“How many speakers are in this thing?”
“Just six. I got these when I was home last time. The guy that sold them to me hired me to install speakers and radios and stuff when I get home.” He stopped suddenly in mid-thought, but there was more that he wanted to say.
“And?”
“My girlfriend.” He busied himself by shoving tools back into their places in a tool kit. “I asked her to marry me.” He deliberately rolled the tools and tied the straps.
“So don’t keep me in suspense, what the hell’d she say.?”
He broke into a huge smile. “She said yes.”
“You son-of-a-bitch, you. Congratulations.”
Joe’s voice changed. “I’m going home this Tuesday.”
“For how long?”
“For good.”
I was glad for Joe. I knew how badly he and I wanted to get the hell out of this hospital. At the same time, I felt such loneliness. Since Ben’s death, Joe was one of the few guys I felt like being with. Those men who had given up hope of leaving or who were settled here drained my will. I broke out of my thoughts. “Well, we got to have a bachelor party. I’ll go get some suds.”
“I’ll come with you,” volunteered Joe, “and show you where to go. I been wanting a ride in this hot car.” We could not fit both chairs in the car, so after Joe was in I pushed his chair over by the Charger. Then, I loaded in.
“You have the honor of being my first passenger,” I commented. I had the feeling that he was grading everything I did. Joe gave me directions to drive away from Richmond. We drove for about fifteen minutes. There were fewer buildings and more open spaces.
“Where the hell are you taking me?”
“Right there.” Joe pointed to a long, low building with a dirt parking lot. Out front, a sign with peeling paint announced that this was “Ray’s Grocery and Package Store.” The roof had a very noticeable sag in the center. A concrete porch with two steps up ran the length of the front.
“It’s got steps. How are we going to get in?”
“Just pull around on the right there and park in front of the window.” When we had parked, Joe leaned over and shoved out two long blasts of the horn. A big man with a bull neck and white hair, cut in a flat top, looked out the window. Joe told me to flash the headlights. I fumbled with the knob for a second and then used both hands to pull them on. The big man waved and disappeared. In a few seconds, he came walking around the corner. His large belly hung over the front of his pants, which drooped loosely from a pair of suspenders. He bent down and looked through my window.
“Hey, Joe. I didn’t recognize you in this car.”
“Hey, Ray. Want you to meet Jake.” A huge perspiring hand reached out and grabbed mine.
“Hey, Jake,” he grinned through crooked teeth. “What can I get you boys?”
“Give us one of those Styrofoam coolers, put in two cases of beer, fill it with ice, and give us a bag of chips and peanuts,” Joe ordered.
“What about you, boy?” asked Ray, looking at me. I knew I did not look old enough to buy booze, but what the hell. “I’ll take a pint of scotch. The kind with the horse on the label.”
“Be right out.” Ray walked inside.
I looked at Joe’s grinning face. “That Ray’s really a character,” I said. “But why did we have to come all the way out here?”
“Are you legal to buy beer?”
“Nope, aren’t you?”
“Nope.”
“Oohh.”
In a few minutes, Ray came walking around the corner, followed by a black man carrying the cooler, the bags stacked on top. I handed him my keys to open the trunk and he handed me the bottle of scotch and a cash register tape. Joe nudged me, “Pay the man, I’m the guest of honor.” I counted out the cash and Ray walked back inside. When the other man had finished loading the trunk, he brought the keys back and I handed him a dollar. He shoved it into his pocket and walked away.
When we got back to the hospital, we had a plan to invite some guys to meet us back at the cars after dinner. I saw Dave at dinner and then Duke and Marv. When we got back to the cars, there were about fifteen of us. Joe and I drove our cars to the far end of the parking lot and backed them in so that there were a few spaces between them. Before we finished passing out the beer another ten guys had shown up to see what the crowd was for. Joe had opened both doors to his car and had a country and western station cranking out over his six speakers. We took turns razzing Joe about married life. Two cases of beer did not go very far, but this group did not need alcohol to make them act crazy. Instead of eating t
he peanuts, we all took a handful, surrounded Joe, and pelted him with them.
In order to make the beer go further, I had been drinking the scotch. Just as the beer ran out, someone sounded a warning. “Look out, it’s the bitch!” All the empty beer cans went into my trunk and Dave slammed the lid. She stormed up and quickly walked around, looking into the cars and at our faces. Unfortunately, I was the only one who had had enough to get a little drunk.
“I want to know what has been going on up here,” she demanded. We looked at each other. Joe looked at me and shook his head.
“I’m just going to stand here until I get an answer,” she demanded. Joe turned and began to push for the hospital just as I started to open my mouth
“You…” I never got the next word out. As Joe came by, he grabbed the arm of my chair and spun me around so fast that I got dizzy and, for a few seconds, as I drifted down the incline, I thought I was going to be sick. Joe continued to hold onto the arm of my chair, guiding me along.
“Shut up,” said Joe in a quiet, stern tone. “You may not care if you get thrown out of here, but some of these other guys got no place else to go.”
I started pushing, but, due to the scotch, one arm was pushing harder than the other and, eventually, I had made a slow turn and was heading back toward the cars. Joe pushed around in front of me and pushed the front of his chair into mine to turn me back. I kept turning back into Joe. Joe started laughing out loud, then a few others, and, by the time we were halfway across the lot, the whole group was chuckling, sputtering, laughing, crying. Just then, the sky, which had been clouding up, burst open and dumped rain over everyone. The short nurse went running by as fast as her short legs would carry her. The sight sent us all into hysterical laughter and we just sat in the rain and got soaked.
