With a shrug, I insert the DVD into the overhead player. It's kind of sad to think Calix can't enjoy it with us, being blind and all. I give thought once again just how much he misses in life not be able to see, then give thought how much I miss in life not being able to walk. Guess we're more alike than I thought.
Before long, Maverick is engrossed in the movie. Mother gives me a thank you look in the rearview mirror, no doubt appreciative for the silence.
We only get to the part when Owen Wilson buys the dog, by the time we arrive at the mall. Maverick seems torn; unsure whether he wants to finish the movie or go inside the mall.
"It'll be here when we get back," I reassure him. He smiles, clearly relieved he doesn't have to make the choice of one or the other.
Mother pulls the van up by the front entrance to drop us off. "I'll meet you kids inside in a few; gotta find a parking spot."
Calix steps down from the van, Teddy unraveling from its compact state, forming into its usual extended length. Maverick leaps out, feet slamming the ground with a thud. I'm somewhat jealous at his exuberant exit, wishing I could do the same. But I can't. So instead, I take my usual path down the ramp; August running down behind me.
"Hey, ear man!" August calls. "Why you wearing that girly thing?" referring to the child leash, which looks to be cutting off half of his oxygen intake.
Maverick's face falls into a frown, as if suddenly realizing someone has to hold the other end. Calix obviously can't do it. I need both hands to guide my chair. All eyes fall on August.
"What . . .?" his tone full of curiosity laced with concern.
I grab the leash and tie it tightly around August's wrist. "Just hang on to this and don't let him out of your sight. Got it?"
August smiles, some of his baby teeth missing. "So he's my puppy for today?"
"Yeah. Sure. Whatever works. Just don't let go."
We move inside the mall. It's crowded. People immediately start staring and giving us weird looks; I can only imagine why. A blind guy, a paralyzed girl, a second guy, who's of the age where he should be considering college courses is instead secured by a unicorn child's leash, which, to top it all off, is held at the other end by a seven year old. Oh yes, we're quite the sight to see.
Maverick inhales loudly. "What is that!"
I breathe in, too. "Oh, that? That's the smell of Auntie Annie's pretzel hut."
Without another word, he darts off toward the little kiosk station, dragging August behind him, like a Great Dane pulling its petite owner. I try my best to go after him, zigzagging my wheelchair to avoid colliding with people. Maverick points at everything on the menu, I can see the excitement in his motions. The girl behind the counter shakes her head disapprovingly, shooing him away. He then sulks over to Calix and me.
"No money," his shoulders slumped in disappointment.
"I'll take care of that. But first, I need caffeine – to the nearest Starbucks!"
Calix scurries closer to me, wrapping his hand around my chair for security. I feel bad for him; being blind in a barren place is difficult enough, but it's gotta be even more terrifying in a crowded environment. I'm sure he would've rather stayed in the familiar surroundings of the Center. He's a good friend for coming with Maverick.
"What is this Bucks of Star you speak of?" Calix tilts his head in wonderment.
"You've never heard of Starbucks?" He shakes his head from side to side – they must really never get to leave the Center. "It's a tea and coffee shop. C'mon, there's one just around the corner."
"Oh. A cup of tea would be splendid."
As we walk into the coffee shop, the smell of coffee beans hangs in the air, filling our noses with its bold fragrance. Oh, how I wish my bedroom could smell like this always.
I go up to order; my head barely sticks above the ledge of the counter. "I'll have a grande low-fat caramel macchiatto, please; extra shot, extra foam." The girl behind the counter has to lean forward just to see me.
Choppy breathing suddenly picks up from behind me. I spin around in my chair to see Maverick slapping Calix's shoulder repeatedly. "Cal, cal!"
"What, mate?" He nearly seems annoyed by his friend's overzealous actions.
"Dude, look!"
"Fraid that's not possible."
"Oh, right. Well, heaven is standing right before us!"
"Is it now? Give it a cheery greeting for me, will you?"
I look at what has Maverick so captivated – the pastry display case. He weakly stumbles over to it, collapsing at its base, arms spread wide as he slams the side of his face against the glass. "Don't ever leave me!" He starts licking the glass.
"No, don't do that!" It's a struggle to yank him away, but I do so successfully. The girl behind the counter looks stunned, horrified by his vastly unsanitary antics. I smile sheepishly, then turn to Calix in hopes she doesn't say anything. "Whattya want? Quick!"
"Tea. I'd like a nice cup of tea."
"Well, there's Earl Grey, chai, and multiple berry teas."
It takes him a long moment to choose. He simply grins after awhile. "Whatever you would have, Milady."
"Chai tea it is then."
Maverick eagerly points at an M&M cookie the size of a Frisbee. "Can I have that?" seemingly looking to me for permission. I nod apprehensively, wondering whether or not he can handle the sugar. He immediately initiates a happy dance.
August grabs a bottle of chocolate milk from the shelf. I slap him on the back of the head playfully. "Betcha still can't spell Indonesia correctly."
He cracks open the bottle, smacking his lips together after swallowing some. "One word: Google," then walks away.
Soon thereafter, we get our drinks. The last thing I want is to suffer more embarrassment – Maverick is still dancing, oversized cooking in hand – so we leave the shop quickly.
Mother meets up with us as we move back into the main mall area. "Phew. You would not believe how hard it was to find a parking spot. I had to go waaaaay out there . . ." her voice fades to a distant echo as I get distracted.
A group of girls, varying slightly in age, but most of them appear to be around sixteen, are taping a poster to a wall. It's vibrant colors and bold fonts are certainly eye catching. In the center of the poster are two silhouettes, a girl and a boy, poised in a dance; the girl's wrists draped around the boy's neck, his hands resting just above her waist. My pulse quickens as I read the title of the advertisement – Hollywood Ending. I had completely forgotten about it up until now. And it just so happens to take place on the same day as my birthday.
"So, where to?" Mother's voice comes back with clarity. She sees me gloomily staring at the poster. "I'm sorry you won't get to go, sweetie."
I shrug, knowing I can't do much else. "Doesn't matter. Wouldn't have happened anyway," patting the sides of my wheels in a silent implication.
"I sense a story not yet known by me," Calix raises a bushy eyebrow from behind his glasses.
"It's a long story."
"You know how I feel about long stories," his brow still raised in interest.
"Well, once upon a time my old boyfriend – err, I'm not even sure if he was ever that, really." I rub my forehead with the back of my hand, sighing with regret. "We were supposed to go to the dance together. But he dumped me after I became paralyzed."
"Blimey! Well, I guess he didn't love Pluto as much as I do," he smiles. Those words cause me to smile, too.
Mother looks confused by our moment. I wave my hand dismissively. "Nothing, mom."
The nearest department store is Macy's, so we go there first. Since seeing that poster, I suddenly don't feel like shopping. It's weird. Sometimes it's hard to ignore the fact that I'm held hostage by this chair. Then other times, even for a short while, I don't realize it at all; like my body and mind have come to terms that this is my life. But it's the times when a memory from my past, the dance, cheerleading, Aurora, pops into my head; that's when reality hurdles itself right into my face.
Mother pulls a shir
t off a metal clothing rack; a purple and pink plaid number with long sleeves. "How about this one, hon?"
"Yeah, that's cute."
August wanted to go to the Gamestop a few stores down; Maverick said he'd protect him, and even reminded August "stranger danger" before they left us. I'm honestly not sure who would be protecting who if anything happened, but mother gave him permission, telling them not to be long. Calix, still likely feeling a little out of his element, stayed with me, savoring each sip of tea.
"This tea is delightful!"
"Yeah. It's one of my favorites." Ed Sheeran's All of the Stars starts playing on the overhead speakers. "I love this song!
Calix tilts his ear upward, bobbing his head as he listens. "Who is this melodic chap?"
"Ed Sheeran. The guy is a lyrical wordsmith, trust me."
He continues bobbing. "I approve of this Sheeran of Ed."
As I lazily slide different clothes down the rack, one of them stands out, causing me to stop. It's a fairy blue colored dress, backless as it dips down towards the wearer's waist, knee-high lace trim, slightly puffed shoulders with deep blue swirls sprinkled across the front. It would fit me perfectly. Sadness overtakes me once again; I totally would've have worn this to Hollywood Ending. I'll never get the chance to wear something like this. Ever again.
Calix moves his head, surprisingly aligning his gaze pretty closely with mine. "Everything alright, Milady?"
A single tear slides down my right cheek. "Yeah." I stuff the dress back on the rack and leave the aisle.
Mother finds me a few minutes later. "Find anything you like?"
"I'm kind of tired, mom. Is it okay if we go home?" I hope she doesn't notice my puffy eyes.
Before she can answer, August rushes up from out of nowhere, his eyes wide with terror;. "He's gone!" I then notice the child leash dragging behind him at his wrist – Maverick nowhere in sight.
I place both hands on his shoulders, calming him. "Tell us what happened? When did you last see him?"
"Um. Well. I was playing Harvest Moon. He was right beside me. And then, I got so involved milking cows in the game, when I finally looked back he was gone." He drops his head in shame.
Calix grins, followed by a short laugh. "I warned you; that barmy lad can be pretty mischievous when he wants to be." I'm surprised he isn't worried about his missing friend.
We quickly scour the mall, but no sign of Maverick. Forty-five minutes pass. I can tell by the look on August's face he feels terrible. "You're not responsible, okay?" He bobs his little head up and down.
Calix sweeps the tip of Teddy in a figure-eight circle across the floor. "It's my fault. I knew of his past behavior better than anyone. I shouldn't have agreed to let him come." His tone is starting to show signs of concern. Who knows what Maverick has gotten himself into?
"Where could he be?"
Not two seconds later, Calix and I blurt out the answer in unison.
"The food court!"
The food court is on the other side of the mall, but it doesn't take us long to get there. And of course, it's packed with people. It's going to take forever to find him, if he's even here at all.
Moaning erupts from behind us, like the grieving moan of Frankenstein. The Chick-Fil-A cow mascot is looming over me. August screams like a little girl, darting behind my chair for cover.
"Eat . . . more . . . chicken . . ." a muffled voice speaks from inside the mascot.
"Wait a minute, I'd recognize that voice anywhere." Calix whacks the mascot in the knee with Teddy.
"Ow!" The mascot removes its head, revealing Maverick inside. "That hurt."
"Thank the Queen of England! Mate, what in the blimey world were you thinking? You can't just go buggerin' off whenever ya like. Something could happen to you. Then who would I count on for a crazy story before bedtime, hmm?"
"Cal, you don't understand. The guy who was in this thing needed a break. He told me if I took it over for a few minutes he'd pay me in chicken. Chicken! Do you know what that means? Do you!"
"Yes, we're all very excited about your poultry paycheck."
I speak up. "We're glad that we found you. C'mon, it's getting late; I don't want Jamal thinking I let you stay out past curfew."
Maverick grows worried. "You aren't gonna tell him I ran away . . . are you?"
I have no intentions of being a tattle-tale, but I figure what's the harm in making him sweat it out. "Hmm." A long pause follows before I answer, and I can tell he's growing more concerned with each passing second. "I suppose not." He exhales in relief.
We make our way towards the mall's exit when Calix turned to me. "You never answered my question from earlier. Dinner. You. Me. Tomorrow night?"
"Tomorrow night would be perfect."
Maverick, striding in front of us, whips around abruptly. "Guys! You know what this means, right?" Our faces void of an answer. "I can now say I've been . . . a cow! This has been the best day ever."
And for once, he actually isn't crazy.
Chapter 26
I'm quiet on the way home from the Center, thinking over the day's events. I had fun. That's something I haven't been able to say in a long while.
I wonder what dinner with Calix will be like? Where's he taking me? I think its safe to rule out Brazilian steakhouse; the guy doesn't have any money, but I'm curious nonetheless. Neither of us can drive, so we'll probably have dinner there at the Center. Maybe he'll prepare a picnic basket and we'll sneak off to quiet section of the Center and eat couscous and crab stuffed tilapia and share a warm dish of crème brulee thereafter. Okay. I fully realize that divine menu isn't at all likely, but PB&J sandwiches are always a simple, yet tasty fallback.
After arriving home, I shove my wheels in the direction of the spare bedroom and proceed through the pair of French doors; I can't wait to tell Aurora everything that's happened.
The propelling force upon my rubber-soled wheels comes to a slow as I approach The Bluff. Something's off. Aurora isn't here. Why isn't she here? She's always here. Always.
"Aurora!" my cry is quickly swallowed up by a sudden gust of a late summer breeze.
I remain frozen in my chair, waiting for an answer as the winds slowly die, watching for any sudden movement from beyond the big oak tree, listening for just a snippet of a her breath.
Nothing.
Is it because of how our last conversation ended? I didn't mean the things that I said! I was just . . . upset, I guess, about the surgery failing. I didn't actually mean those things.
I didn't mean them, Rora.
I didn't.
Noon comes around and I've already caught myself glancing at my phone's digital clock a half a dozen times or more. I wish I could speed up time and make tonight come sooner. I've been here at the Center for over three hours and still no sight of Calix. He usually comes to visit me by now. Maybe he's already getting things ready for dinner? I don't even know what time I'm supposed to meet him.
Since my recent achievement on climbing into my wheelchair all on my own, Desiree has stepped up the workout therapy routine. Earlier this morning, she had me press ten pound dumbbells above my head five hundred times in sets of twenty. I've already accepted my fate; I'm going to be sore tomorrow.
Desiree tosses a chilled bottle of water my way. "Let's see you run that obstacle course again."
I catch the bottle neatly with my right hand. Cracking the lid, I guzzle it quickly; the brisk water feels wonderful as it slides down my dry throat.
The September sun beats down on my bare arms as Desiree moves me outside. The orange maze of traffic cones are already positioned on the unoccupied section of the parking lot.
I look up at Desiree, squinting from the bright sunlight. "Speed?"
She bobs her head in confirmation. "Speed," whipping out the stopwatch from her scrubs pocket.
I steady myself at the makeshift starting line. The miniature traffic cones are once again spaced three or so feet apart from one another, and maybe half a foot from the
edge of each of my wheels. The objective is almost too challenging, like Desiree wants me to fail. But I guess if I ever do get out of this place functioning in the real world won't be any easier.
I hear her thumb stomp the stopwatch's trigger a millisecond before her go-ahead command. "Go!"
My hands make contact with my wheels, shooting me forward. The first turn is a hard left; I release my grip just a little on my right wheel, while clamping down on the left one, executing a smooth drift. As I finish the corner, the wheels start to skid sideways across the beveled pavement, but I quickly regain control.
A sharp right follows a straightaway. I invert my previous execution, gliding through that turn with ease. I flash Desiree a cocky grin – easy peasy so far. No sooner after the grin, my left wheel clips three cones in a row, sending them tumbling to the side. I grumble inward.
The obstacle course broadens from the narrow section I've just sped through. Cardboard cutouts of silhouettes are positioned randomly in front of me. I have to slow just a bit to avoid them; I don't want a repeat of the cones. As I zigzag around one of the silhouettes, my right wheel just barely clips the edge; it teeters for a moment, but doesn't fall down. If my breathing wasn't so labored right now, I would've breathed a sigh of relief.
The latter third portion of the obstacle course is before me. The cones have narrowed again in their previous formation, and a quick sense of dread washes over me as I glance at its layout. The cones spiral inward, then sweep right, then left, and twisting into a snakelike pattern before ending at the finish line.
My sweaty palms slip off the wheels. The rubber sole digs into my forearm, leaving black paste residue all over my skin. To my surprise, my sudden blunder doesn't cause me to hit a traffic cone. I zip through the spiral, drifting as skillfully as I can, then follow the sweeping curves of the next two turns, ultimately soaring through the snakelike finish. My gut twists in dismay as the outer edge of my right wheel bumps one last cone.
I take a moment to allow my heavy breathing to mitigate. "How'd I do?"
Desiree holds the stopwatch in front of my face. "One minute and twenty-eight seconds. Not too shabby! Still knocked down four cones, though."
Paraplegic Page 20
