East 2

East 2

I was laughing with a few guys and telling stories that I knew were lies but they took as hilarious. This was normal for me to do around the house; I liked pretending to have done so many unbelievable things, and the payment for my falseness was the cackling, raspy, stumbling laughter of all who heard, which made it all so much more enjoyable. I had just finished telling two young men and a very old-looking woman my favorite tale-the one about the supermarket-when Can arrived with a wheelchair.
"Loooookeeeeee heyuh!" he exclaimed as he stubbornly maneuvered it into the hallway. "Look whut I gat fo' you!" He presented the smooth leather with beaming pride. I reached out and touched it, shocked that I was actually receiving something I had wanted for the longest time.
"Holy s**t!" I yelped gleefully. Can gave me a disapproving look, so I half apologized. "Where'dya get it?"
"Tho 'spital th'other night," Can said. "They was throwin' it away! Can you b'leive dat mess?! I seen it jus layin' there all lonesome, and I thoughta you, and I grabbed it and hauled tail back heyuh!" A wave of gratitude hit me, carrying me on liquid emotion into Can's arms where I grasped him, afraid of letting go and falling into the current of tears threatening my eyes. I was so thankful for this man. All my life I had had to be carried. Actually, at the orphanage, I crawled most of the time from what I remember, which isn't much. Then Can picked me up one day in his heavily clothed arms, and since then I don't think he's ever put me down. I never knew why he cared so much about me, but I was overwhelmed by that fact, and I nearly emptied myself in his chest because of it.
"Thank you! Thank you, thank you!" My screams were muffled by three layers of unwashed and tattered and raggedy but authentic love.
"Awh, no need tuh thank me," Can held me and said. "Everyone d'serves de chance to git around." After I released my python grip of appreciation, he helped me situate into the wheelchair. It was a little too wide, my hips had about three inches of free room on each side, and my arms didn't sit easily on the armrests, but I wasn't looking for comfort. I wasn't looking for anything. Can had brought me something, though, and my heart jumped as high as it could. I looked up at him and smiled.
"I love it!" I beamed.
"Less try it out," he said. We went outside and for the first time in my life I knew what it was like to travel at the same speed as everyone else. My point of view from the cracks in the concrete watching people pass by while I stayed as still as litter was gone. I had a new perspective. I rolled up and down the sidewalk, circled in the streets, down the alleys, shot straight forward into my future, and my future was finally mobile.
By the time Can called me back inside it was dark, but I felt as bright as the streetlights that illuminated some of everything.