Paraplegic

by Troy Dearbourne

  The football field is covered with rows and rows of hundreds of metal folding chairs all facing an enormous stage the school had setup. Many of the chairs are already filled. The ceremony should be starting in approximately thirty minutes. I see Xander and his family take a seat near the center of the seating area. A few empty chairs are behind them, so I hop over and claim them before anyone else.

  "Hi, Xander!" I sit down in the chair directly behind him.

  He looks over his shoulder. "Oh. Hey, McKenzie. Great day for graduation, don't you think?" He tilts his head back and looks at the sky.

  I'm sitting right behind Xander White! Of course it's a great day! A hurricane could sweep through right now and I wouldn't care. "Yeah. It's looks like it'll turn out to be a nice day. So what happened last night after the game? I didn't see you after it ended."

  "Aw, man. I'm so sorry. I feel like such a jerk." He exhales deeply. "I was so upset at myself for blowing that last shot that I just left the gym without saying anything to anyone. I talked with some of the guys in the lockers afterward, but they weren't up for partying after that loss, so I just went home."

  "That's okay. And don't be too hard on yourself. It was still a great game."

  "It'll be even better at Duke."

  I glance at him with uncertainty. "You mean . . .?"

  His lips part and form a breathtaking smile. "Yep! I got an e-mail from Duke this morning with an offer to attend their school on a basketball scholarship."

  "Xander, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you."

  "Thanks. What about you? You going to college?"

  I beam proudly. "Got my acceptance letter from Stanford last night."

  "Whoa! A Stanford girl. I better watch my Ps and Qs then." He winks. "What are you taking?"

  I toss my hair. "Photography."

  He laughs. I'll never get tired of hearing that ambrosial laugh. "I should have guessed it. You always did seem to have a thing for the limelight. But do you even own a camera?"

  "Not yet. I'm going to get one soon, though."

  "Do you know anything about photography?"

  "Well . . ."

  He laughs again. "Good luck then."

  "How hard can it be? All you need is the right angle, good lighting, and a keen eye for artistic beauty, which I possess."

  "Maybe you can send me some of your work once you get established at Stanford?" He turns away to face the stage.

  I tap him on the shoulder to grab his attention again. "My family and I are having a cookout after the ceremony. I'd love it if you could make it!"

  He looks over at his parents and nods. "Sure. That'd be cool.

  "Great!" I feel all giddy inside, my feet tapping the teams' midfield logo in excitement.

  Mother and father take their seats on my left and Aurora moves passed them and sits on my right. We pass the time with casual conversation, waiting for the ceremony to start. With ten minutes left, Aurora's parents, James and Parker, arrive. Parker sits down in the chair next to Aurora. "I'm so sorry we're late, sweetie. "Dad and I had to take care of some things at work before coming here."

  "You're fine, mom. The ceremony hasn't started yet."

  Aurora is a spitting image of her mother. Parker couldn't deny her if she tried. Aurora has the same shade of green in her eyes, and her hair, if it weren't for the fact she gets blonde highlights in hers, is practically the same shade of brunette. James on the other hand is a bit more established looking than his wife. His hair has long since turned this George Clooney color of silver and black. I don't actually recall him ever not being a little gray. Probably has something to do with how much work he puts in. I hear stress ages you like crazy!

  The football field is an ocean of crimson and gold from every cap and gown. With a spin of my head, I don't see any empty seats left.

  Dean Warner and Principle Mayer make their way onto the stage; Warner positioning himself behind the podium. He speaks into the microphone, "Thank you all for being here today. I congratulate all of you for making it this far and remaining dedicated to your studies, despite my contrary expectations for some of you." His gaze passes over this direction, like those words were meant for me in specific. If it weren't for the fact that I'm sitting in the midst of nearly a thousand other students, I'd say he is definitely looking directly at me. How many times do I have to scream it – I didn't start the food fight!

  Warner takes a drink of water before continuing. He drones on about how appreciative he is for the school-board and their efforts to maintain proper structure within the school. Then talks about the valedictorians and how proud he is to see them transform into promising young adults. Then gives his thanks to each of the teachers. Then the honor roll. Then the rest of the students. He then asks for everyone to rise and pay our respects as the marching band plays the national anthem.

  We stand to our feet and the band begins to play. It's sounds downright awful! The tuba player is way, way off key. A dying whale sounds better than that thing. I slap my hands over my ears and lean in close to Aurora. "Tell me when its over." But a stern look from father changes my decision; I drop my hands to my side.

  The anthem ends and everyone sits back down. Principle Mayer gets behind the mic and begins naming off students from valedictorians to the honor roll. Some of them say a few words of thanks or give a shout-out to someone in particular, others silently marched across the stage, take their diplomas with a handshake from Dean Warner, and then promptly exit the stage.

  The row in which Aurora and I are sitting is called. We squeeze pass the still seated family members and make our way towards the stage. I'm standing in front of Aurora, but there's half a dozen or so students in front of me.

  Aurora squeezes my hand from behind. "I'm so nervous! There's like, a million people here. People. There's people. Lots and lots of people. I don't do people. I can't handle this. What if I freeze? What if I mess up my speech?"

  "Then it'll be kindergarten all over again." I wink.

  I march across the stage to Warner, shake his hand as he hands me the rolled up diploma, then move behind the microphone. "Greetings peasants, nerds, and other people." I glance across the football field, recognizing certain faces, while others I hadn't ever noticed before. I stop suddenly as my vision crosses a certain face; a very unforgettable face – Rhea! She dodges my eye-line, dropping her head to stare at her lap. I'm shocked she has the nerve to show up today.

  Seeing Rhea causes me to lose my train of thought, but I recover quickly. "It's been four years since we stepped foot through those double doors of this school. Four years of diligence, determination, and a little bit of luck. Well, unless you're me, then you don't need luck. But nonetheless, we made it, we're here. I'd like to thank the Blue Jays for giving me the wonderful opportunity to cheer with them, to be their leader and captain. And to the Shadow Hawks for making basketball more than just a game on a court." Principle Mayer deliberately clears his throat. I roll my eyes. "And the teachers, the school-board, yadda, yadda, yadda. Couldn't have done it without you. Woo-hoo." Mayer then shoos me from the stage, cutting my speech short. What a creep!

  Aurora moves up to the microphone after me. She glances my way with terror rimmed in her jaded eyes. I give her a thumbs up, letting her know everything is going to be fine. She nods, then exhales slowly. "H-hello." She stares straight ahead, like a deer in headlights. "Um." She removes a piece of paper from her gown and flattens it across the podium. "I'd like to thank you all for allowing me to be here today. It's been an honor being able to learn and grow with all of you." She looks up from the piece of paper, then quickly looks back down - even after all these years, she hasn't conquered her fear of crowds. "Four years ago I didn't know any of you. I was just a girl who kept her head down for fear of being called upon, singled out, or standing out in a crowd. But then I was given an opportunity; my best friend asked me to join the cheerleading squad. I would've never in a million years accepted if it weren't for her kind nudging words, but I did. And I'
m so glad I did! Cheering with the Blue Jays has given me memories I'll treasure forever. To the coaching staff, to the teachers, and even to Walter, the janitor; I'd like to thank all of you for making these fours years at Stardust High unforgettable." She turns to Warner and accepts her diploma slip. Meanwhile, Parker is bawling her eyes out. Tears of joy and pride, I presume.

  Aurora runs toward me as she leaves the stage. I throw my arms around her. "That was beautiful, Rora."

  The ceremony proceeds for another hour before all students had been given their diplomas. When it came time for Rhea to receive her diploma, she practically runs up the stage and over to Warner, hardly shaking his hand, then grabbing her diploma and darting off the stage as quickly as she'd entered. She really is pathetic. She doesn't even bother returning to her seat either. Instead, she runs off the field and toward the parking lot. Guess the only reason she came today was for her diploma.

  Dean Warner steps up to the microphone once again for one last announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present to you the graduating class of Stardust High!"

  We throw our caps in the air.

  Chapter 10

  "McKenzie Rose Barlow: high school graduate."

  I keep repeating those words over and over in front of my bedroom mirror. It feels so good; I have to say it one more time. "High school graduate." I feel as if I can take on the world right now.

  We hung around for a little while after the ceremony had ended. I spoke with Tess and a few other girls from the squad; told them not to be strangers, and just because we wouldn't be seeing each other as frequently didn't mean we had to sever ties altogether. I'll call her up soon. Maybe we'll go to the mall or dinner or something.

  While we were walking to the parking lot, Parker mentioned needing to pick up a specialized mustard for the hot dogs, so Aurora went with them to the grocery store. Father needed to fire up the grill and mother wanted to start preparing the meat, so we went home. I wanted to change out of my cap and gown and into something more mesmeric anyway, so I was happy to go home. I want to look fresh for when Xander arrives.

  Mother calls from the kitchen saying she needs help with the food preparation. As I walk down stairs, August comes home from school and drops his backpack at the front door, then proceeds to face-plant himself into the couch cushions. "If I have to go back to that horrible place again I will die!" his voice muffled from the cushions.

  "Suck it up, wimp head! You've got ten more years of it ahead of you. Not only that, you have boring lectures, ten thousand word essays, and mountains of homework to look forward to."

  He looks up at me, then slams his face back into the cushions. "I'm gonna die before the third grade I just know it!" his voice just as muffled as before.

  Mother is at the cutting board chopping up onions. She sniffs every couple of seconds, her eyes all red and watery. "If there is a way to cut up onions without crying all over the place, I wanna know about it!"

  "You should try freezing them before you cut them."

  "Freeze them? What on earth for?" she dabs the corners of her eyes with her apron.

  "The little stringy part at the bottom of the onion is called the Basal Plate, which is filled with a gaseous enzyme, and when those gases come in contact with water, it burns. There's water in your eyes, which is the reason why your eyes tear up when cutting onions. But if you freeze them, it solidifies the gases long enough to slice the onion without causing your eyes to tear up." I smile coyly, feeling pleased with my answer.

  "Well, look at you all knowledgeable and stuff."

  I point both thumbs toward my body. "High school graduate." August wails from the couch at the sound of those words.

  Mother chuckles. "How bout you use that knowledge of yours and help me cut up these vegetables?"

  "Sorry. Can't. Don't wanna get anything on me." I motion at the cerulean colored dress I'm wearing.

  "Alright then. At least get me a plate down from the cupboard. Your father will be needing these meat patties shortly."

  Just as I grab a plate, Aurora charges through the front door, holding a jar of mustard high above her head. "I have come bearing the worlds finest mustard. It was excavated by hand from the rich fields of Camden, Maine, encased within the highest quality of plastic . . . and a bunch of other cool stuff."

  James and Parker walk through the front door behind her, though with much less enthusiasm than their daughter. Parker grabs the bottle of mustard from Aurora's hands. "Aurora, we knock before entering someone else's home."

  I brush her words aside. "It's fine, Parker. We've pretty much adopted her at this point anyway."

  "See, ma! These are my peeps. They know me here." Parker moves into the kitchen to talk with mother, while James moves to the back patio to help father with the grilling. Aurora takes me by the hand and guides me into the theater room. "Guess what, guess what, guess what? Too slow!" She pulls a crinkled white envelope from her jeans pocket. "It came!"

  My mouth drops open just a little. "Is that what I think it is?"

  She bobs her head up and down, her eyes growing bigger with excitement. "We stopped by the house after the grocery store so I could get a change of clothes and this was in the mailbox when we arrived! You waited for me, so I wanted to wait for you." She tears open the flap without further delay. Her eyes shift rapidly as she reads.

  "Well? What'd they say?" I try getting a read off her expression. It's takes her a good thirty seconds for her to read the whole thing. All the while, I suddenly realize I haven't breathed since she started reading; my lungs are burning. I exhale with a burst of words, "Tell me, girl!"

  She lowers the letter to her side. "I didn't get in. They rejected my application." Her face lowers to the floor.

  "Oh, Rora! I'm so sorry." Those words seem so cliché and empty, but I don't really know what else to say. She just stands there in front of me kind of gazing off to the side with a blank stare. "Maybe you can apply to some others schools next Spring?"

  "It's not fair," her words barely a whisper. Her eyes are starting to fill up with tears now.

  "I know."

  She whips her head around and looks me straight in the eye. "No, you don't! You don't know what it feels like. You're rich. You have your whole future provided for you, and whatever you want, it's handed to you on a silver platter!" She bolts past me and out the back slider towards The Bluff. Mother and Parker look up in concern. I raise my hand, signaling everything is fine, and chase after her.

  It's mid-afternoon now. As I dart across the fairway, a twosome of golfers are on the tee-box a couple hundred yards away. I see one of them swing and then a split second later hear the crack of the club coming in contact with the ball; it sails high above my head and bounces down the fairway. Used to, I'd be afraid of running across the fairway when golfers are poised to hit, but I've done it so many times through the years it doesn't scare me anymore.

  Aurora's standing a few feet from the edge of The Bluff. She's always been the fearless one when it comes to heights, but I don't like how close she is. "Rora, why don't you step back this way?" She doesn't move.

  "I needed it," I hear her whimper. "I needed to get into that school. It was my passage to getting a good job, to having a prosperous future."

  "You still can. And you will, Rora. You just have to believe in that." She turns around and I guide her a safe distance from the edge.

  I glance passed her and out over The Bluff. A stabbing pain seizes my heart when I think about all the times she and I have come to this place, knowing now that after the next three months we're not likely to visit this place ever again, and even if we do, it's not likely to possess the same enchantment it once did. My whole life I've yearned to be treated like an adult, to obtain their respect and to be considered one of them, but now, standing here reflecting on the past, I suddenly wish I could venture back to those years, the years when Aurora and I would race to this spot after school just to play hide-and-seek, or to gaze up at the stars once the sun had
vanished from the sky. Back then, we made promises that we would always do everything with one another, talk often, never go a week without seeing each other. We even had our weddings planned out and what our dresses would look like and who our bridesmaids would be. But life marches on no matter the amount of force you exert to oppose it. We aren't those two little girls anymore who used to concern themselves with nothing more than Hannah Montana and Style Magazine, when our favorite boy band breaking up was the worst of our fears. Life, it seems, was much simpler back then.

  A gust of summer breeze sweeps through, stirring up the oak leaves and other debris. I switch my gaze back to Aurora. She stares back solemnly. We can see it in each other's eyes; our childhood is ending, and our futures are hurdling towards us faster than we can handle. Is this natural? I don't believe Aurora is upset about not getting into her desired college as much as she is about the fact that we'll part ways in due time. She's never been one to exhibit jealousy, which allows me to believe her anger isn't anger at all, but rather fear of living life without me in it, or perhaps being left alone while I'm away at college. Is she afraid I'll forget her?