Desiree wraps her hands around my other leg. "Got any plans for the future?"
"Get out of this chair."
She chuckles. "Any thoughts on college, career maybe?"
"My mom wants me to attend some local universities, but . . ." I sweep a glance over my legs, then over my wheelchair. "I'm just not ready right now."
"'You must do the very thing you think you cannot do.'" She stops stretching my leg for a moment, then adds, "Eleanor Roosevelt."
I look over at the parallel bars again. Is she secretly trying to urge me to try them a second time? "Okay."
"Okay?"
I nod. "Okay."
Desiree lets go of my legs, and I roll onto my stomach, army crawling towards my wheelchair. I place a palm on the seat, applying pressure to it as I hoist myself up with my other hand and onto the seat in one fluid motion. It's hard not to chuckle in amusement at how easy that is to perform now, thinking back to the days when it used to be such a formidable task.
But now I have to face another formidable task - walking. My muscles ache just thinking about it. I envision running along the beach as the waves crash against the shoreline, my feet sinking in the marshy sand, wind tearing itself through my hair. I want it. I want it so badly. I want it more than anything. I don't care if there's no chance that I'll ever walk again. They're wrong. They don't know me. They don't know what I can achieve so long as I don't give up.
I sit with my wheelchair position between both chrome bars, Desiree standing some twenty or so feet at the other end. She gives me a confident thumbs up. Extending an arm forth, I grab a hold of the bar on my right, steadying myself before doing the same with my left hand. With a heave, I jerk upward, relishing the sensational feeling of standing on my own two feet. But it's difficult to support myself; my arms are already shaking from the stress, and it certainly is weird not feeling any support from my waist down, mostly feels like I'm levitating.
Desiree half squats, like a catcher poised to receive a pitch, awaiting my advancement towards her. She's certainly possesses a lot of confidence in me. Right now, I don't feel at all like I can make it one step let alone all the way to her.
"You got this, girl!"
My arms feel like they're about to give out from supporting my weight - I collapse in my wheelchair. Looking up at Desiree, I shake my head. "I can't. I can't do it."
She moves towards me and takes a kneel. "Listen. You tell yourself that now and you know what'll happen?" She doesn't wait for me to answer. "You'll never be anything more than a girl and her wheelchair." Her words sting, like someone driving a pin cushion through my heart, but I know she's right. "No challenge worth accepting is going to be easy, but once conquered, it's all the more rewarding." She backs away, though this time not quite as far down the bars, resuming her crouched stance.
I lean forward and reach for the bars, allowing her pep talk to sink in. My biceps flex as they strain to support my body. I stare at my pitiful legs, mentally willing them to move. C'mon. C'mon! Move you stupid ligaments. I've completely forgotten how to move them, it's been too long. Then, something happens that causes me to do a double take - I think I just saw my big toe twitch!
Tears start rolling down my cheeks before it even happens, but slowly, very slowly, my right foot begins to move forward. I jerk my head up; Desiree is beaming back at me. "You got this! Keep going!"
The muscles in my arms are burning now, but I cast such thoughts aside. The only thing on my mind is that I just moved my foot. I actually moved it! I don't care if it was one-eighth of an inch - I walked!
I concentrate all my energy on my other foot, globs of sweat slide off my forehead and splash against the carpet. C'mon, McKenzie. You can do this. Show all those naysayers they were wrong!
My heart flutters as I watch my left foot move forward. "I did it! Desiree, I did-" my moist palms slip off the bars. Desiree lunges forward, arms extended, catching me just before I hit the ground.
She moves the hair out of my eyes and I see her grinning widely. "You defied the odds, turned a zero percent chance into a hundred. I've never been so proud in my life."
"A hundred? You really think so?" It nearly sounds too good to be true.
I must have some sort of stupid look on my face because she laughs. "Nothing's impossible." She helps me to my feet, gently sitting me back down in my wheelchair. As soon as I'm seated, my phone vibrates from inside my pocket. All the joy and happiness is immediately sucked from me. The caller-ID displays that it's Benjamin Trout. I answer it.
"H-hello?" dreading the news that follows. My mind is moving a mile a minute: did Trout convince the other investors? Did he fail to win their interest? Or worse, has Kalyope passed away?
I hear his breath through the phone. "Consider yourself the CEO of a this project, kid. They're all onboard!"
My mouth drops open and I scream into the phone. "Are you serious? This is unbelievable! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much."
"Don't thank me yet, kid. We're just getting started. We've got a long road ahead of us and a lot of red tape to cut through. And there's something else you should know about," he leaves me hanging for a moment. "One of the investors had a niece that passed away this passed week, and in her Last Will and Testament she requested her organs be donated to those in need. Well, out of curiosity I had her blood samples tested against your friend's." He pauses, my heart is pounding in my chest, throbbing in my ears; I stop breathing entirely. "It's a match!"
The phone falls from my grasp, bouncing across the floor, but I'm too stunned to retrieve it. I just stare at Desiree, vision blurred from tears as they cascade down my face.
"Hello? McKenzie? Did you hear me?" I hear Trout still on the phone. Desiree picks it up and hands it to me.
"Um. Y-yes." I sniff. "I'm here."
"Good. I've already made arrangements; the heart should be at the hospital before the hour's up. Your friend's gonna be okay! Oh, and another thing, you've gotta come up with a name for this endeavor, we can't keep calling it 'the project'."
I don't hesitate with an answer, a smile crinkling over my face. "I know exactly what we'll call it."
Six Months Later . . .
Second chances.
How many people in the world are given such a blessing? It's hard to believe I was once a prisoner to that old chair, and in a distant, weird way I almost miss it. A life without legs. That had become my life for just over a year, a year that – in one sense – flew by, and in another sense, crawled. At one point I'd given up on the fantasy of ever walking again, but thanks to the help of some very special people that fantasy has become a reality. No matter what some people say, dreams can come true. I'm living proof.
A small gasp to my right; I turn my head, Aurora is standing there with her fingers cupped over her mouth in awe, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of me standing on my own two feet. "Bestie, you've done it! Oh, I always knew you would. I just knew it!" She throws her long arms around my shoulders. I quickly dig my wooden cane into the dirt, stabilizing myself so as not to topple over the edge of The Bluff.
"All of it still feels so new. I'm having to learn how to walk all over again." I try wiggling my toes from within my Converse All-Stars, grinning as I do. "But it feels wonderful!"
After I took my first steps, almost six months ago now, it was a gradual process of regaining my ability to walk. Every now and then, I find myself briefly losing sensation in my legs, stumbling, sometimes collapsing, as a result from it. But I can walk. And that's something I truly never thought I'd say again.
"I'm gonna miss this place," I breath.
Aurora shoots a curious glance at me. "Whattya mean, Bestie?"
"I've made the decision to go to college. Spring classes start next week."
She claps her hands together excitedly. "That's great! Photography?"
"No. I want to do something more fulfilling than photography, so I chose to major in Rehabilitation and Caretaking, much like Desiree. I want
to help others get a second chance like the one I have been given. Who knows, maybe I'll even get a job working at the White Guard; I'd be able to see Calix and Maverick every day."
Aurora's bottom lip quivers. "But . . . what about me – us? What about all the things we've done, the memories we've crafted, our future? We were going to be each other's Made of Honor one day. I can't live without my Bestie."
I sigh uneasily, dodging her heartbroken gaze. I've played with this illusion for far too long. I can already see it's going to be difficult breaking away. How do I tell her?
Aurora's eyes slowly widen, as if a serious thought has just crashed her mind. "I'm not really here . . . am I?"
I cringe, slowly shaking my head from side to side.
She wipes a tear sliding down her cheek. "Was I," voice cracking, "was I ever real?"
"You were real to me, every second of you."
She turns away from me and faces the breathtaking canyon of The Bluff. "I guess . . . I guess this is goodbye then?"
I try not to cry, knowing it will only making things harder, but after a few moments of weakly battling the welling emotions, a tear makes it way down my own cheek. I loop a hand inside my best friend's. "You're my favorite hello and my hardest goodbye, you know that?" Her green eyes meet mine, and I can't help but feel responsible for the sorrow that's written on her young face. I suck back a deep breath. "It feels like I'm losing you all over again." Both of us are a watery mess at this point.
"No, you're not, Bestie. I'll always be with you. In here," she points toward my heart, then wraps her arms around me tightly.
I don't want to let go. I can feel us parting, her arms sliding away from me. She turns towards the canyon once again and begins to walk towards the edge. My hands are shaking, heart thumbing in my ears. I desperately want to scream for her to stop, to lunge forward and pull her in close to me. But I know I can't. This is goodbye.
Aurora walks out over the The Bluff and morphs into the golden sunrise, until finally, she disappears completely.
For the first time since the day of the accident, I get behind the wheel of a car, placing my cane in the passenger seat. Maybe I'll have to give it a nickname like Calix gave his. It'll be awhile before I can walk well enough without it, might as well make it a part of the family and give it a proper name.
Father had offered to buy me another sports car like the one I had before; said it'd be a congratulatory presenting for earning my legs back, but I told him I didn't need something that ostentatious, and that I wanted to earn my own way. So he loaned me the money and we went used car shopping thereafter. I made a promise to myself to not even glance at my phone when behind the wheel. A text message can wait. It took me spending a year as a paraplegic to realize that.
My stomach twists with excitement. The representatives of the hospital and the rehabilitation center had called me two weeks ago saying they'd recently cleared fifty acres of forest. Today, we're going to break ground on the new facility.
The drive is peaceful: blues skies dotted with fluffy clouds, the amazing feeling of my feet pivoting from the break and accelerator pedals. Not being chained to a chair every waking moment is indescribable.
But there's always someone out there less fortunate than I, someone who is in need of a second chance. Maybe they're a plegic, maybe they're blind, or maybe they're a cancer surviving, mentally crazy, alien believing person. Whoever or wherever they may be, I'm going to find them and help them.
As I arrive, a crowd has already gathered in the open fifty acre field. There must be two, no, three hundred people. I spot Benjamin Trout's Bently parked on the grass up ahead. My pulse jumps as I scan the rest of the parked vehicles and see James and Parker's station wagon – they came. I would've thought they'd left the Camden by now.
Benjamin meets me as I step out of my car – an old Ford Taurus I found cheaply – grabbing my cane as I exit. "Are you ready for this moment, young lady?" His bushy beard twitches as a smile forms underneath.
I haven't seen him since the day we finalized the facility's contract six months ago. "You're shorter than I remember."
He laughs heartily. "Glad to see you on your feet."
There's a small wooden stage topped with a podium and microphone. Off to the side are three white boards set on easels displaying the schematics for the new facility. I take to the stage, Benjamin standing behind me. Lively chatter trickles through the growing crowd. Stepping up to the microphone, I see mother wave to me, father standing next to her and August in front of the two of them.
I take a deep breath before speaking, suddenly nervous. This is it. "I would like to thank you all for coming today. Almost one year ago today I was in a car accident, which took both my legs and my best friend. I was fortunate to earn back one of those things, but the other, my friend, Aurora, will always be in my heart."
Amidst the hundreds of people, I spot James and Parker. I falter from my speech unexpectedly – I haven't seen either of them since the day we visited them at their house after Aurora's death.
I quickly recover. "Over the next few months, I turned inward, bitter, and unthankful for what I still had left. I even considered suicide. But a dear friend told me that being a little different wasn't such a bad thing. And he was right." I then spot the familiar dark sunglasses of Calix in the crowd, beaming with delight; Maverick standing beside him wearing a tin foil hat. I smile; some things never change.
"With the help of White Guard Rehabilitation Center and my physical trainer, Desiree," her platinum blonde head sticks out in the crowd, "I learned to live with my disability as a paraplegic. Later on, I had the privilege of meeting someone who inspired me. Someone who made me realize that living with paralysis wasn't as bad as I once thought." Kalyope is down front with an unstoppable smile on her face, her family surrounding her. It's riveting to see her alive and well.
"All of this led to one major decision: I had a strong desire to give people a second chance at life. And thanks to Mr. Trout for his generous donations, that is an achievable feat." I lift an open hand towards the schematics of the new facility. "It's called the Aurora Foundation. It's purpose is to reduce wait times on donor lists by up to eighty percent, and increase successful transplants by over fifty percent. Instead of patients being put on a waiting list, where over one hundred and twenty thousand other patients across the country lie in wait for the same miracle, the Aurora Foundation works independently and on a separate donor list of its own operating strictly within the state of Maine." The crowd cheers.
I step away from the podium and Benjamin takes my place, saying a few words. After he's finished two men with white hard hats grip the end of a shovel, pressing it into the earth. A rumble of applause spreads across the crowd. We've officially broken ground.
As I descend the stage, Parker walks over to me. Her eyes are puffy, nose red on the sides, as if she's been crying. She doesn't say anything for the first few seconds, just stares deep into my eyes, which makes me uncomfortable. A pressure builds inside my chest. What if me doing all of this only made things worse. What if she didn't appreciate that I named the Foundation after her daughter?
"It'll be exactly one year tomorrow," she finally utters. I simply nod, unsure what else to do. Parker then smiles weakly, but genuinely. "Aurora would be so proud of you." The pressure inside my chest immediately subsides. The next thing I know, Parker draws me in close, whispering, "I forgive you." She dries her eyes as she moves away.
"I would've expected you and James to be long gone by now."
"We're leaving today," she sniffs. "We sold the house and now that old station wagon is jam packed with everything we own."
"Where are you headed?"
She shrugs, looking back at James. "West, I think. We're not sure of anything as of now. Wherever the roads take us, I guess. But soon we won't be traveling alone," she rubs her stomach in a circle. "We found out last month."
I feel my mouth drop open. "You? You're . . .?" she nods, grinning as widel
y as me. "Congratulations!"
There's a certain glow about her, one that gives me a sense of peace. I forgive you. I never thought I'd hear Parker say that to me. She's going to be okay. They both are. I know it.
"You take care of yourself, McKenzie. And thank you for being such a precious friend to Aurora." She turns from me and moves over to James, who's leaning up against their car. I stand there in the open field and watch their station wagon become smaller and smaller with distance, until vanishing altogether amidst the remaining forest.
"Aw, man. I love happy endings!" a voice behind me cries out. I spin around and see Maverick standing there, his tin foil hat now crooked on his head. "Don't you, Cal?"
"Ending? Who says this is a blimey ending?"
"He's right." I click my heels together. "This is merely the beginning."
Maverick rushes over with open arms, hugging me so tightly I feel the oxygen squeezed from my lungs. "I'm gonna miss you, Wheels."
"Mate, you can't call her Wheels anymore. She doesn't have 'em."
Maverick thinks this over. "I'm gonna miss you, Legs," hugging me all over again. He then straightens his tin foil hat. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go tune in to the Mothership." He dashes off, muttering to himself.
Calix sweeps Teddy in front of him until it hits my shoe, smiling. "So this is it, eh? Got your legs back and off to college?"
"Not quiet. There's one last thing I need to do before I head out." I take a step closer to him. "Listen, Calix, a couple of weeks ago I had Jamal look into your medical records. I know such information is sealed to anyone other than the patient and doctor, but, ya know, I'm pretty awesome and all." Calix laughs. "Anyway, I told the Aurora Foundation to be on the lookout for a retinal organ donor in the area, and well . . ." I can hear his breathing quicken, "they found a match just yesterday."
Calix stumbles back in disbelief. "Milady . . ."
"Yeah, I know. Calix, you'll be able to see!" And in that same moment, I see a tear slide out from behind his sunglasses.
Paraplegic Page 27
