Cahpter 5 A Groovy Kind of Love
5.
I pulled a chair from the kitchen and sat it next to Lori's bed. I opened the book at the marked page and began to read. I could feel my cheeks pinken as I read about quivering loins and white hot ecstasy. Should an eighteen year old boy be reading such shit to a woman who had the brain function of a jelly fish? I wondered if this was just Lois' bright idea to humiliate me.
I read even though Lori smacked her face, screamed, and thrashed her head back and forth. I tapped her hands away from her face as quickly as I could, to minimize the contact with her wet hands. I became thoroughly frustrated by her screaming, so I stood up and said, “Reading time is over.”
She blinked her eyes and they rolled to the direction of my voice and she gave a quiet chuckle, as if to say, “I win.”
If I had thought her capable of such thought, I would have shaken her, because she had given me a headache and was really starting to wear down my confidence.
I mean, let's face it, I'm a good looking guy, and am pretty good at charming everyone I meet. That is until I showed up here. Nobody seemed to find me likable within these walls, in fact they all treated me like a joke.
I went to find Lois. I found her single handedly pushing Mike up into a table that supported him to stand. I wondered what her back must be made of to be able to to that, since Mike did not look light. I looked around for the other staff and found her in Faye's room bending her legs in different directions and chatting away easily with her. I knocked softly on the side of the door and cleared my throat, because I didn't know her name.
She turned her head and asked, “Yes?”
I continued to watch her since she didn't feel I was reason enough to stop what she had been doing, “Um... I don't think Lori wants me to read to her anymore. She keeps screaming and slapping her face.”
The staff looked at Faye and smiled, “Okay.” She continued the exercises, dismissing me.
“Is there something else I can do?” I asked hoping she would say no and send me home.
She stood up and stretched her own back out, by reaching above her head and bending side to side, “Sure, Michelle needs to weed the raised flower bed, wanna help her with that?”
Fuck no, was what I wanted to say, but I pasted my Cheerful Johnny smile on and said as enthusiastically as I could, “Sure!.”
She smiled at me and I felt the first bit of warmth I'd felt in this house. She said, “Okay, when you approach Michelle, be gentle and make it seem like it's her idea to do the garden otherwise you'll probably get something thrown at you.”
I could feel my throat go dry, now I was going to be abused if I said the wrong thing? What the hell? I thought these people were supposed to be God's children. They seemed more like Satan's spawn. I pondered how I was going to manage this. With great trepidation, I walked up to Michelle who was relaxing in her room listening to music, “Hey, Michelle, I was wondering, I heard from the staff that you're really good in the garden, would you mind showing me how to figure out what the weeds are and what the flowers are?”
Her face lit up as she nodded and I was surprised by how good that made me feel. Like I had just achieved the impossible.
“Can I wheel you outside?” I asked. She nodded yes and I pushed her out onto the patio. She pointed to a bin filled with gardening tools. I brought it to her and asked, “Do you need this shovel?”
She nodded silently, her grin wide as she reached into the bin with clumsy hands. She pulled out the small garden shovel and reached into the flower box that had been built up so she could reach into it. It took all of my mental strength not to pull the shovel out of her gnarled little hands and complete the task for her. I was certain I would die of old age before she ever got that first dead flower pulled out.
I could see that it took great effort on her part to loosen the flower and I found myself flopping between admiration for her persistence and irritation at how long it was taking. I had to give Michelle credit, she kept the flower bed pristine. I looked around at rest of the patio and wished I was chilling on one of the three hammock swings swigging down beer or even iced tea with my buddies. Michelle pointed and grunted at the garden hose.
“Do you want the hose or a watering can?” I asked as if it were natural for me to be doing this.
She nodded towards the hose. I walked over and pulled the hose over to her, she nodded a thank you at me and I smiled back, “You're welcome.”
I watched her squeeze the squishy handle and I wondered who sat around and thought of these special things they all seemed to have that made it possible for them to do things like garden and turn on the radios. She watered the plants with great concentration and I found myself looking her over.
It was hard to notice her, because the wheelchair was so cumbersome and surrounded her as if it would like to swallow her whole, but she was cute in the way that my sisters were cute. She had short brown hair, big brown eyes and chubby cheeks that had a rosy tint to them. I had read in her file that she had been normal until she had gotten sick with Scarlet Fever when she was 18months old. Looking at her, I wondered if she remembered what life had been like before she got sick. She was in her thirties now, so I guessed she didn't.
After she watered the flower bed to her satisfaction, she looked at me expectantly. I raised my eyebrows and questioned, “Done?”
She nodded and smiled. I wound the hose back up and turned back to her, “Do you want to stay out here?”
She shook her head, “No?” I asked surprised. I had assumed that she would want to stay outside. I wondered, feeling fingers of shame creeping along the back of my neck, if she just didn't want to be out side with me. Again, she shook her head and looked at the door to the house. “Do you want to go in?” I asked again. She nodded, so I walked over and wheeled her back into the house. She pointed to her room and I wheeled her down the hall and deposited her in her room. She promptly smacked the big red button by her bed to turn on the music, dismissing me.
I was starting to think these people knew who I was and what I had done to their house.