Passengers
Crawling -
He needed to get to the hospital because his leg was in bad shape.
I went to pick him up yesterday at the run-down green house with the couch and rusted bicycles outside. He asked specifically that I back in to the driveway so the passenger side would be as close as possible to the path from his front door. As I was backing in I saw his extremely bulky form stepping out of the house onto the snow and ice covered path. His mother, also rotund, was supporting him by one arm. Under his other arm was jammed a metal crutch; he had a long splint on his leg and was moving slowly. His mother was yelling at him and he was yelling back. When he saw me he called out for help.
I left the car and hurried down the path to assist him. His mother tailed us. He hesitantly advanced the rubber tip of his crutch, trying to avoid icy and snowy patches, then leaned on the crutch and, using me for leverage on his left side, heaved himself forward.
The path to his driveway is about tweny feet long. We were two thirds of the way to the car when he slumped down, putting all his weight on my arm and the crutch.
"I can't do it!" He said. He stood still, shuddering, his breath deep, sinking more and more onto my strained arm.
"Sure you can", I said. "Just take a rest X, and we'll get to the car. No rush."
"No", he said. "I can't make it. I'm going to crawl."
With that he sank immediately to his knees on the path, then heaved his metal crutch towards the driveway. As it clattered on the ice he shook off my grip, and went down to all fours. Slowly, laboriously, he began to crawl on his hands and knees down the icy, snow patched path. It was 24 degrees out. He was in shorts and a tee shirt.
He looked up at me, "this is how I get around at home", he said. Then he dragged himself up into the passenger seat. The seat belt doesn't fit around him so I never ask him to put it on.
Once inside, we had an uneventful ride to the medical center. He thanked me a few times for helping him, and offered to buy me a soda at Mr. Mike's Mini Mart as a sign of his gratitude. When I told him I don't drink soda because I'm watching my weight, we settled for juice instead. I pulled in to Mr. Mike's, then went inside to buy my juice, his litre of Coke, and the Little Debbie peanut butter snack he wanted. They were out of the peanut butter snack, so I went back outside and asked him if he wanted a substitute.
"Get me a candy bar", he said.
Thus fortified, we drove off for the hospital
One day later I was at work, sitting in the main office, joking around with the receptionist. My boss came to the doorway and asked how the ride had gone. I said it was just fine. My boss looked a little puzzled. He told me that X had called up complaining that I hadn't helped him, that I had left him to crawl helplessly through the snow to my vehicle. I explained that X had said thank you, and had bought me some juice.
That seemed to satisfy my boss. He hasn't mentioned it since.
Stay tuned for more:
He needed to get to the hospital because his leg was in bad shape.
I went to pick him up yesterday at the run-down green house with the couch and rusted bicycles outside. He asked specifically that I back in to the driveway so the passenger side would be as close as possible to the path from his front door. As I was backing in I saw his extremely bulky form stepping out of the house onto the snow and ice covered path. His mother, also rotund, was supporting him by one arm. Under his other arm was jammed a metal crutch; he had a long splint on his leg and was moving slowly. His mother was yelling at him and he was yelling back. When he saw me he called out for help.
I left the car and hurried down the path to assist him. His mother tailed us. He hesitantly advanced the rubber tip of his crutch, trying to avoid icy and snowy patches, then leaned on the crutch and, using me for leverage on his left side, heaved himself forward.
The path to his driveway is about tweny feet long. We were two thirds of the way to the car when he slumped down, putting all his weight on my arm and the crutch.
"I can't do it!" He said. He stood still, shuddering, his breath deep, sinking more and more onto my strained arm.
"Sure you can", I said. "Just take a rest X, and we'll get to the car. No rush."
"No", he said. "I can't make it. I'm going to crawl."
With that he sank immediately to his knees on the path, then heaved his metal crutch towards the driveway. As it clattered on the ice he shook off my grip, and went down to all fours. Slowly, laboriously, he began to crawl on his hands and knees down the icy, snow patched path. It was 24 degrees out. He was in shorts and a tee shirt.
He looked up at me, "this is how I get around at home", he said. Then he dragged himself up into the passenger seat. The seat belt doesn't fit around him so I never ask him to put it on.
Once inside, we had an uneventful ride to the medical center. He thanked me a few times for helping him, and offered to buy me a soda at Mr. Mike's Mini Mart as a sign of his gratitude. When I told him I don't drink soda because I'm watching my weight, we settled for juice instead. I pulled in to Mr. Mike's, then went inside to buy my juice, his litre of Coke, and the Little Debbie peanut butter snack he wanted. They were out of the peanut butter snack, so I went back outside and asked him if he wanted a substitute.
"Get me a candy bar", he said.
Thus fortified, we drove off for the hospital
One day later I was at work, sitting in the main office, joking around with the receptionist. My boss came to the doorway and asked how the ride had gone. I said it was just fine. My boss looked a little puzzled. He told me that X had called up complaining that I hadn't helped him, that I had left him to crawl helplessly through the snow to my vehicle. I explained that X had said thank you, and had bought me some juice.
That seemed to satisfy my boss. He hasn't mentioned it since.
Stay tuned for more:
posted by APG at 12:45 PM
1 Comments:
Now i get it - if I don't comment you won't know I visited! Well I did and enjoyed. Love the details. "Everything you do is ironic" because you have a knack for seeing it, and telling it, that way. Which is a form of celebration, I sense. Thanks for the invitation!
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