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She replied in the way I’d both hoped and dreaded she would: by walking out of the room and closing the door.
MY DOOR STAY closed for I didn’t know how long. Might have been half an hour, might have been a decade. I couldn’t tell. When I finally fell asleep, I slept hard and long. I slept the sleep of the dead, but when I woke up to the sound of my door opening, I wished I would have stayed with the dead. What was left for me with the living wasn’t worth living for.
Jesse strode in and shifted a few things in the corner to make room for what was coming through the door. What was wheeling through the door. A middle-aged guy sat in one of those huge electric wheelchairs and puttered into the room, heading for the spot Jesse had just cleared. The rooms in the Gibsons’ old farmhouse were small to start with, but having that giant machine inside it made the guest room seem like a coat closet. It became tough to breathe, as if either the oxygen had been stripped from the room by that wheelchair or it had brought in too much. I couldn’t tell, but I knew I needed it out of there.
“Who are you?” I asked the man in the wheelchair. I guessed Jess knew better than to invite some other crippled person to come over and commiserate with me like some kind of mini support group, but I couldn’t figure out another reason why the hell a guy in his wheelchair would be rolling into my room right after I’d been deemed paralyzed.
The guy didn’t glance up as he finished maneuvering the chair into the corner. From the look of it, he needed to take a few more driving courses with that thing before he ran it through a wall or ran over a person. “I’m Steve.”
I waited for something else, but nothing else was off
ered. I was just about to ask Steve why “Steve” was in my room when he shoved himself out of the wheelchair onto two strong legs and approached me with an outstretched hand.
“I’m the manager of the medical supply company in town,” he said, letting his hand hang in the air for another moment before he realized that unless he picked my hand up and put it there, I couldn’t shake his hand. His arm dropped back at his side as he cleared his throat. “I don’t usually do the home deliveries, but when I heard who this chair was going to, I had to see to it personally.” A smile spread across his face as he looked at me. “I used to follow you in the local circuit when you were just starting out, so I was a fan before you hit it big. You’re a talented rider, Mr. Black.” Steve nodded at me in what I guessed was approval.
While I’d been complimented and praised by hundreds this past year, instead of the flattery making me feel awkward yet grateful, Steve’s made me feel like each word was a knife slashing at my throat.
“I think what you mean is that I used to be a talented rider,” I replied, my tone so bitter I could actually taste it on the back of my tongue. “Kind of hard to be any kind of a rider, good or bad, when I can’t even wipe away the drool rolling down my chin.”
I noticed Jesse shift on the other side of the room. He wasn’t used to not knowing what to say or how to fix something. I’d never seen him at such an utter and total loss in all of the years I’d known him.
Steve shifted a couple times too. “I’m having one of my best employees—he’s the most familiar with this type of chair—come over later this afternoon to go over how it works with you and get you all set up. This baby’s got too many bells and whistles for me, and with my luck, I’d wind up running you over.”
My throat did that running dry thing it had been doing a lot of lately. I wasn’t sure if that was due to the paralysis or due to the rough topics being discussed, but it seemed like shit luck that one of the few pieces of my anatomy I could still feel would be uncomfortable. “Well, the nice thing about running me over, Steve, is that you wouldn’t have to worry about injuring me any more than I already am.” I winked at him, but it had the opposite effect of what I’d intended.
His face ironed out before he glanced at Jesse like he was flagging him down for a lifeboat.
“Thanks for swinging by personally, Mr. Winters. We appreciate it.” Jesse came forward to shake the guy’s hand.
“You might as well take it back with you though,” I piped up, trying not to glare at the towering piece of machinery stuffed into the corner of my room.
From Jesse, a sigh followed a few moments later. From Steve, his brows drew together as if he’d misunderstood me or wasn’t following.
“You’ll need a chair, Garth,” Jesse said. “No matter what happens or what changes, you’ll need a chair for a while to get around.”
I snorted. “That’s not a ‘chair,’ Jess. That’s an upright spaceship with wheels and a joy stick.” I shook my head and looked away from where it sat, taking up a chunk of my room. “Take it back.”
“We’re not sending it back,” Jesse said in a gentle enough tone that I knew he was addressing Steve and not me.
“Maybe we’re not, but I am.” My eyes flashed to find Jesse hovering above me while Steve hovered over me from the other side. Everyone hovered over me now. Even if I was sitting upright, they’d still be hovering. I hated it. I wanted to be able to look a person straight in the eye when we spoke, but I couldn’t. “I mean, did you see how he drove it in here? With his hand. I don’t happen to have the use of my hands, so even if I wanted to be strapped into that thing, I couldn’t go anywhere once I was.”
Jesse looked at Steve, who cleared his throat. “The chair is designed for both paraplegics and quadriplegics. You can operate it with your hand or with your mouth.”
I shouldn’t have been able to feel my heart thundering in my chest and about to break through my ribcage, but right then, I felt like I could. Maybe it was beating so hard it was pounding in my ears and vibrating my brain, but I could feel my heart. “Take it back.” I sounded out-of-breath. “I won’t be operating it with my hand, my mouth, or anything else.”
“Garth—”
“I’m not trying to deny what’s happened to me or playing ignorant to the shape I’m in, Jess,” I said, shaking my head. “However, I’m not ready to exchange two legs for four wheels. Give reality some time to settle in before you roll a machine like that into a person’s room, okay?” He was opening his mouth to say something else, but I cut him off again. “Besides, I don’t need to have shopped for something like that to know it costs way more than my pay grade.”
“Garth—”
“Especially since I don’t have a pay grade anymore, probably never will again, and am fortunate enough to not have health insurance, thanks to a lack of forward thinking and the professional bull riding circuit being under the impression that health benefits are for sissies.” The silver lining to the night of my accident was that I’d stayed on long enough and earned a high enough score to score a nice chunk of prize money. However, since it was highly likely that would be the last ride I’d ever make, I needed to make my bull riding winnings stretch as long as I could. I wasn’t going to drop thousands of dollars on something I wanted no part of.
When I was finally finished, Jesse didn’t jump right back in. He stood beside my bed silently, looking at me expectantly. He let another minute pass.
“Are you done now?” he said, arching a brow. “Can I get a few words in before you cut me off again?”
I would have made a smartass proceed motion if I’d had the use of my hand, so instead I answered by staying quiet.
