Paper Walker

Chapter 14

 "Zara?"

His voice is the same. He looks exactly the same and yet, somehow everything is completely different.

A bit oafish I lift up my hand. "Hey Sorley.

My bottom lip hurts from chewing nervously on it, which I couldn't stop these past days. I can feel the torn skin and lick my lips before I close my mouth.

"What are you doing here?"

There are long silent pauses between every sentence we exchange.

"I wanted to see you. In real life."

Now I know why he was so reluctant, I'm suddenly ashamed about this invasion of his private life.

"And so you got on a plane?"

"Eh... yeah."

He rolls his wheelchair a bit forward and looks from me to my suitcase and back. "Does your mother know you're here?"

I shake my head. "She's at that seminar. Isla knows, She helped me."

"Oh good, Isla knows."

The sarcastic tone in his voice scares me.

"Zara, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Quavery I take a deep breath, but then my cooped up, over exerted and far to thinly stretched emotions have had enough. Tears muddle my vision and I hide my face in my hands.

He curses and I sob even louder.

A different voice offers salvation. "Sorley? What is going on here? Did you make that poor girl cry? Move aside, so she can come in."

Frail hands protectively pull me in and through a haze I find myself a little later sitting in a square living room. My suitcase is placed beside me and Sorley's grandma says something about tea and disappears from view. Sorley obviously has his accent from his grandmother, who sounds just like that Irish actor I saw the other day.

I sniff a few more times, wipe the sleeve of my summer coat over my eyes and mumble in the direction of where I can see Sorley from the corner of my eye: "Sorry."

"No," he softly replies, "I am sorry. I ..."

My eyes search his when he falters. Defeated, he points at his legs and I swallow.

"So long we only met in books, I could pretend I had a normal life. For you I was just any guy, like a million others. Whole. Without something that would make you feel sorry for me."

His grandma's shadow appears near the door, but she retreats almost immediately. Sorley didn't see and continues: "I didn't want you to see me like this."

Words pop up in my mind. Sentences like: 'do you think it would make a difference?' and 'you're still the same'. I don't say them out loud, for even in my head they sound hollow.

"Is it because of the accident? You said you hurt your back?"

"Aye." A humourless laugh escapes his lips. "A spinal cord injury. I was fortunate to be alive, but I couldn't walk any more."

"Is ... can it ..."

"If it can be cured? Maybe someday, in the future. They fixed a whole lot. I couldn't even go to the bathroom at first.

He grins and for a moment I recognize the old Sorley. That relieves me so much I almost begin to cry again, but I manage to contain myself.

Sorley also sits up a little straighter, as if he realizes the cat won't go back into the bag.