“You designed this layout.”
Noah glanced at me.
“I think I did.”
“You did,” I said.
Gavin handed him a piece of chalk.
“Then show me what would work.”
For the next half hour, they redesigned the equipment placement directly on the floor.
Noah tired quickly. I saw it in the way his weight shifted onto the walking pole and the brief pauses before he answered.
But his technical mind remained sharp.
He identified where a rotating arm would reduce lifting without obstructing traffic. He proposed a sliding battery tray and a wall-mounted monitor so diagnostic work could be completed from a seated position.
Gavin wrote down every suggestion.
Caleb came to stand beside me.
“He’s enjoying this.”
“I know.”
The rolling stools became a problem shortly afterward.
Not mechanically.
Socially.
Owen sat on one and pushed himself backward with both feet.
Noah watched him cross the bay.
“Coward.”
Owen stopped.
“What?”
“You used both legs.”
“It is a chair.”
“It has wheels.”
“That does not make it a racing vehicle.”
Caleb sat on the second stool.
“It does now.”
Within two minutes, someone had drawn a chalk starting line between the break room and the north bay.
Noah positioned the powered chair beside them.
