How do I turn this thing?” I screech down the bulletin board-lined south hallway of Golden Horizons while standing on a motorized creation with smooth wheels. Smooth except when they hit the seam lines in linoleum or discarded pencils.
“You don’t want to turn. Keep hauling forward,” Beau hollers, safely hidden behind file cabinets.
In a moment of insanity, involving a chocolate bribe, I offered to be a guinea pig for this latest project, “Moving Toward New Mobility,” but only because I thought it would turn Beau’s attention back to me.
“Watch out!” I shout, but it is too late. I have collided with the library cart. Beau rushes to save a copy of Anna Karenina from landing in the fountain. I, on the other hand, am allowed to fall flat on my face.
“Ouch. Ouch.” I moan extra long for effect.
“You leaned too far forward while accelerating,” Beau explains as he places Tolstoy back on the cart.
I wanted a rush of sympathy, not an explanation for my predicament. His lack of caring sends a power surge through my veins. “Thanks so much,” I say sarcastically and add this to the ever-expanding file of Beau’s faux pas and wipe away imagined dust from my sore behind.
It is then that he sees injury beyond my pride.
“Your elbow…it’s bleeding. Oh, Mari. Are you okay?”
Finally. Proper attention. “I’ll be all right. It’s nothing.” I morph into a good sport now that Beau has shown he cares.
“Let’s get that taken care of. Come on.” He grabs my hand and takes me to the staff room, where a first aid kit hangs on the wall. I never even knew the kit existed until Beau got this grant. My knees, toes, fingers, and head have all been tended to from this white box with the red cross on it. I have tested circular wheel chairs, aerodynamic walkers, and even luxury scooters.
Lysa walks by and does a double take.
“You know,” she says, enjoying my humility, “if you would just follow your passion, you would have a career you love and better income.”
“What would that career be?”
“Crash test dummy.” She stares at me with complete seriousness. Only Beau laughs at my new job prospect. He ends up in tears, which finally causes Lysa’s facade to crack and my reluctant smile to appear.
“Sure, mock me. Both of you. But at least I am contributing to mobility science research. You two just sit back and observe. I am giving heart, soul, and blood to the cause.” I raise my now-bandaged elbow up in salute to my courage.
“I’ll bet you had to wear a special helmet as a child, didn’t you?” Lysa offers one last punch line and exits shaking her head.
“No!” I call after her indignantly and deeply hope that she never sees our home movies of me as a three-year-old with protective head gear and thick glasses to correct my wandering eye.
“I like your clumsiness. How else could I take care of you?” Beau leans in and gazes at me with his deep eyes and a look of tenderness.
That’s twice today I’ve fallen.