In a Wheelchair Now

Man, my thinkin' was we could build a story on-line. Then all of a sudden I have several complete short stories sent in. Unless you indicate you want a name on your story, I'll leave it out. All about respect. First story, 'In a Wheelchair Now' is three pages long. I'll add several paragraphs a day. Enjoy! I took the liberty to correct problems when posting.

Can’t figure it out and I never will. Dad died just after I came along. Lookin’ back now it’s plenty easy to see it for what it was. I didn’t have shit and it didn’t look like anything was going to be in much of a hurry to land in my airport. Didn’t know at first just how screwed I was. Others had plenty but I was told not to worry. I didn’t need any of it. I walked or rode my tapped together cycle to school. Never had a car. All I had was a job. Started with dish washing before my promotion to Short Order Cook (without a raise). The place I worked was having money problems so I’d have to forget a raise till things changed. I did and the place stayed around. Even now it’s still going.

            False advertising was one of my first crimes now that I think about it. Got plenty of complements on the ‘beer’ battered fish though. Paying customers loved the stuff. Water for the batter and beer for me. Worked like a charm. I’d feed the dinner rush and down the beer during clean-up leaving me with a nice buzz for the trip down the tracks to my place on the westside. School wasn’t looking to offer me much by way of opportunities. I even knew that much. Councilor told me I best come up with a skill like carpentry or welding. He also explained young men like me do good with that sort of thing. College and them kind of opportunities were for the kind of kids who drove to school in cars and not on taped together cycles.

2nd Installmenst

The pursuit of the three R’s never struck me as sensible. Nothing but bullshit to me. I saw it for the lie it was. Besides, only one of the skills started with an ‘R’. Reading, Writing and Arithmetic. The other lie involved the American Dream what-ever-that was. We were always told it was something about opportunity and the ability to pursue that dream. All you had to do was work. The harder you worked the more opportunities you had. Why, if you worked hard enough you could even be President. Really. Anyone can come up with a notion, work their ass off and presto, they are what they set out to be. I believed it hook line and sinker until I ran smack dab into the barrier called money. It was about this time I owned up to another little problem. All I wanted was to be out of range of my ma’s voice and to sleep in if I got the notion to do it. Them two didn’t go hand in hand. If I slept in the voice always got louder. It got so loud one day I ended up doing something about it.

           I took a left when I usually walked straight to the diner. I’d give you the name but it would keep things simpler if that wasn’t the case. Besides, readers will decide if this is the real deal or just more bullshit in their sorry lives. My formal education got going that day. I sat in a chair bolt upright as if that was a requirement. Only had one real job interview in my life and that one was in the bar of the diner. The recruiting officer was all military, spit and polish as they say. He was offering me honor and a uniform and the adoring look from perfect strangers. Best part of the spiel was I was going to get paid. I would have real insurance, money for a school I wanted to go to and girls. Soldier boy didn’t go and tell me that last part leaving the figuring to me. I signed on the dotted line not knowing what price I was going to pay or how much I was worth.

3rd Installment

I didn’t figure it out in basic. Came up with friends and it didn’t matter what cloths I wore because we all wore the same thing. I even lied some to be more than the fry cook I left behind. Not much though. We all got through basic and dreaming about I and I. That is intercourse and intoxication for those who don’t know.

The truth didn’t really start sinking in until it was too late. The roof was doing its own version of sweating after baking in the sun all day. The sun was downing behind the sand and nothing was really on the move. Nothing like bombs or a shot happening. We are laid up there not talking much. I’m spotting and he is scoping some with his big ass scope on the trusty M24. Just hearing it snap a shell home is reassuring. It will do the job and keep us safe. I don’t really think about back home and what I escaped much. Guess you could say I was safe from the diner bigtime. I was going to learn really fast just how wrong I was for thinking the safe word. Actually that is what the military had purchased from me. My safety.

4th Installment

The heat wasn’t giving up fast enough for Eye. That’s the name we gave him. When he showed-up he was Mike and before he left he was Eye. I didn’t have a whole lot figured out for when I got back state side. I figured it was how it was. Something would happen and I would be doing something with myself whether I liked it or not. Eye tell me that not good at all. You don’t come up with something to go home for you might end up staying put in the military. That kind of shit could get you killed. It was why he became a sniper in the first place. Give him a better shot at not getting shot. He always laughed when he said that. Yes sir he told me. Figure it out.

The roof stayed plenty hot even after it got around to getting dark. No breeze. Nothing but more sweat. We would be on the move before long. Looking. Always looking but none of us could ever figure out the why of the deal. We never found nothing worth finding. Not when I was around anyways. What’s worth finding that’s worth a life anyways? I don’t know what it was. Sweat probably though a helmet could mess with you seeing things. You would be sweeping slowly from left to right and your helmet would slip down on your face enough to bug you some. I watched him take his off and wipe his forehead with a sleeve some. He had already wiped his face with that sleeve and it was wet even though stuff dried plenty fast in this place. I remember the dog bark from what sounded like coming from a mile away or something. Otherwise dark and getting darker and silence. We weren’t talking because we had already talked enough about everything and nothing. It was just the way it was. I probably would not have liked Eye much if I had to hang out with him anywhere else on the planet earth. He was always talking about what a shot he was. Constantly but I get it now. That kind of talk makes you feel safe in a bad place.