Love on Wheelz

My sister had driven me and my nurse to Target. It was one of my first times out without my parents and I was ecstatic.
“Imma buy underwear and chips and a game and one of those big bouncy rubber balls that bounce a lot. Those are AWESOME.” I told them as we entered the store. I was free from my parents, if only for a couple of hours.
“You going on a spending spree, hmm?” my nurse asked.
“YEAH! SPENDING SPREE! WOOO!”
My sister looked at me like I had suddenly grown a large tumor on my forehead, “Uh, yeah… That’s great. I’ll be in the book section if you need me.”
She disappeared around the corner and I went merrily on my way. I got to the underwear section and was happily perusing their fine selection when I noticed an old man looking at the casual wear. He was balding, with liver spots all over. He wore black dress pants up to his stomach and a white, striped polo shirt. He kept looking over at me and then quickly looking away. As if he was debating whether or not he should say something.
I’m used to this. Although it’s usually from little kids. Most of them get caught looking at me by their parents and are scolded. They think they’ve offended me. God forbid you offend the poor cripple. The truth is, I don’t mind. Kids will stare; it’s something new and foreign. Hell, I often stare. It’s human nature to be curious. Every so often a kid will tug on his parents’ sleeve, discreetly–in his mind–point to me and whisper, “Mommy, what’s wrong with him?” “I don’t know,” she’ll say, “why don’t you go ask him?” I’ll pretend not hear this. He’ll come up to me, look to the ground and say, “Excuse me, why can’t you walk?” It’s the cutest thing watching them squirm, thinking they are breaking some unspoken rule. Only to find out that’s it’s okay to ask questions. And I imagine that’s one of the things this man was pondering. The other thing wasn’t so obvious.
He finally worked up the courage and came over.

“Excuse me.”
Me and my nurse looked at him.
“I hate to bother you,” he looked at the ground and fiddled with his thumbs, “but can I pray for you?”
I had never been asked this question before. “Yes,” I answered, foolishly thinking he meant later. In private, like normal people.
He put his hand on my head, closed his eyes and lifted his other hand toward the sky. “Dear God, We come to you today, to pray for this young soul…”
I couldn’t see my nurse because she was behind me, but I could feel her jaw drop. I stared at the man, not wanting to stop him for fear of being rude, but wanting to run away at the same time.
“… I pray, Lord, that you find it in your mercy to rid this angel…” He started turning red and he looked up at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, “This angel, Lord, that you sent down to us, Lord…” He started shaking and crying. I heard a suppressed giggle behind me.
“… OH LORD! WE DON’T CLAIM TO KNOW YOUR WAYS, BUT LORD, PLEASE RID THIS YOUNG SOUL OF THIS HOOOORRRRRIBLE DISEASE! PLEASE CURE THIS YOUNG MAN OF THIS INCURABLE DISEASE! SHOW THE WORLD THAT MIRACLES STILL HAPPEN. SHOW THE WORLD YOUR UNDYING LOVE!”
The aisle was empty except for us. I was speechless and I could sense my nurse’s shock and that giggle wasn’t so suppressed anymore.
He looked at me and I had to force myself to look at him. “Now get up my son,” he said, looking at me with tender, loving eyes.
“Uh…”
“Just try my son. Try.”
I tried. I really did. “Uh… maybe later?”
“Later? Okay. I want you to call me when you walk. Here’s my number.” He took out a pen and paper and scribbled down his number.
“Uh… we have to go now,” my nurse finally snapped. I took that as my cue to roll away as far as I could.
“OH MY GOD!” My nurse said, “the nerve of some people!”
I didn’t say anything, I was still processing what had happened. Then I saw my sister doubled over in laughter.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU DO ANYTHING?!”
When we were little, kids would stare at me and she would stand behind my chair and stare back until they cried. She was so protective of me, she made kids cry. And now, she did nothing as she watched an old man tell me to walk.
“I will pay you back for this… One day.”
“Oh, whatever. If you try to get me over I’ll turn off your chair. Besides, I never would’ve forgiven myself if I didn’t let that happen.”
“Screw you.”

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