Finding Charlie

Chapter Four

Chapter Four (Friday)

I hit the alarm three times and didn’t have time to eat breakfast. I ate a yogurt while writing progress notes through my lunch hour. My last patient of the day canceled, so I decided to leave early.

            Greg had parked his wheelchair at the end of a shiny, green bench at the curb. I had seen him in the office earlier that day. He’d been walking with the assistance of the parallel bars. I had wondered whether I should nod a hello, but he’d been so focused, he didn’t seem to see me.

            “Hey,” I said. “You’re still here. That can’t be good.”

            He looked up at me and held his hand across his brow, squinted through his fingers.

            I shuffled left so the sun wasn’t right behind me.

            “Yeah. I just called.” He held up his cell phone in his other hand. “A couple buses overheated or something. So the whole system is backed up.”

            “Well, can I give you a ride?”

            “Oh, no, that’s okay. I mean, thanks, but it’s fine. They’ll be here eventually.”

            “Are you sure?”

            He didn’t answer right away. “I’ve got a book.” He shrugged.

            “Look, I’d hate to leave you here. The building’s gonna close in an hour and then it gets dark and cold. And it feels like the middle of nowhere. I know cuz I’ve been left waiting for a ride here.”

            He laughed. “Who would do that?”

            “Boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.”

            He laughed again. “Hell, yeah, ex-boyfriend!”

            I smiled. I hadn’t broken up with Rick that night, but I had given him a ration of shit. He was the one always warning me about which neighborhoods to avoid at night, how to check the back seat before getting in my car. I sat on that bench with my cell phone in my lap. Rick’s cell went to voice mail and I couldn’t call my dad; he’d be too irate. “Seriously, come on. I got nothing I got to get to.”

            “Really? Won’t you get in trouble?”

            I narrowed my eyes at him. “You gonna tell on me?”

            “No, Ma’am.”

            “All right then. This way.”

            I was parked at the far end of the lot. I thought about asking if he wanted me to push the chair, but I didn’t want to offend him. He seemed to keep up pretty well. As we approached my car, I hit the clicker and opened the passenger side door.

            “Is there room in your trunk for the chair?” he asked me.

            “Yep. It’s empty,” I said. “You need a hand getting in?”

            “Nope.” He set the break and reached for the top edge of the car door with his right hand. With his left hand, he grabbed hold of the handle on the ceiling of the car. He stood, his balance clearly a bit off, focusing. Slowly, he lifted his left foot and set it on the floor inside. Then he swung his body inside, gripping the door with white knuckles. Before he pulled his right leg inside, he leaned out. “Do you know how to fold that thing up?” he asked, gesturing to the chair.