Continue The Story III

Question

Part I

Challenges are a fact of life it just seems that I get more of them than most folks.  Life in a wheelchair can be a curse or a gift it just depends on how you look at it.  The “accident” happened while I was working in a crane at Barnes Construction.  That day I was moving 200 ton steel beams.  One of the beams broke loose and a cascade of steel fell like dominos wrecking my crane and me in the process.  I can remember it as clear as day.  Images flash through my head in spurts like fireworks going off at the carnival.  It’s almost like I have a short circuit, which is possible, and I have visions of being crushed, lying in a hospital with a bright light shining on me like I’m trapped in a burning dome, and the voices of many.  Nurses, doctors and my wife Loraine but there were other voices too.  Voices that were more whispers than actual people talking to me giving me encouragement for the most part but a few of them mocked me and told me things that I shouldn’t know.  The day I went home from the hospital the voices stopped.  My wife, a rather large woman, carried me from the wheelchair into the van and drove me home.  At first I convalesced in a spare bedroom with only a tiny TV and a dim reading lamp but Loraine made sure that I had plenty to eat and drink and spent a great deal of time just sitting there holding my hand.  The warmth of her hand as she gently caressed mine was all the medicine I needed.  I spent four months in that room before I ventured outside to a different world…

Comments

2 in a row.  Sorry.  You're the one who called this a soap opera.

Answer 1

PART VII

In the van, Dr. Laura was sitting next to me.  Dr. Phil was driving, and Oprah was fanning Loraine in the far back seat.  They all wanted the exclusive interview for their TV shows.  The story would attract a lot of viewers and would probably alter the trucking industry forever.  The lax safety standards caused me to be a fucking cripple and they owe me.  

Everyone wanted a piece of this pie except me.  I wanted to be anywhere else - different lifetime, different situation.

The man in the black cloak was on the side of the road hitch-hiking.  We didn't pick him up, but he was at the gas station filling up his car when we stopped for donuts.  I got a good look at his face for the first time.  He was me.

"Loraine, come sit with me, please."  I pleaded.  "Do you see that man over there?"

"No, Tom, there's nobody over there."  Oprah was taking notes on my mental stability.  Dr. Phil was comforting me by saying that these were the normal effects of severe trauma.  Dr. Laura was coming back with the donuts and I fainted.

I instantly woke up in a field of tall wheat.

Comments

Love it giraffe.  I don't know where to go from there. lol.

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We could either warp it out even farther with Mickey Mouse or start over.  I tried to tie up all the weird characters and the main guy's insanity, the cloak guy, and Loraine.  Added the talk show hosts for comedy.

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Funny it is!  I can just hear Dr. Phil's voice in that van.  I don't know what to do now.  I think Part VIII is coming up.  Hold on!

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Gee, Doug.  I thought you'd pick Oprah.  I'll come up with something soon.  I think we kind of wore this one out.  Cool story, though.

Answer 2

As Loraine wheeled me down the hall, I started coming to my senses.  I remembered that she wasn't just some kind lady, but my wife of 20 years.

"Hi, Honey."  I said.  "I guess my legs are broke.  How bad is it?"  I suddenly remembered the beams and the voices.  They seemed to be connected.

"Hi, Baby.  You seemed to be feeling better, so I thought you might want to sit on the front porch."

"I asked you how bad it is!"  I was getting mad.

"Your doctor will be over with the test results within an hour.  Let's just go sit on the porch and enjoy the breeze."

"Yeah.  Loraine is always right.  Bitch!"

"It's good to have you back, Baby."  She kissed my cheek and parked me on the porch.

Answer 3

PART III

She sat on the porch swing and tried playing 'footsie' with me.  I couldn't feel a thing.  She moved up my legs and there was still no sensation until she got to my belly button.  "That feels nice."  I said.

"You can't blame a girl for trying."  she said as Doctor Larue pulled his car into the driveway.  "Hi, Doc."  she waved.

"Hi, Loraine,"  he said walking up the front steps.  "This isn't good news.  Your husband will be paralyzed from the waist down for life and the damage to his nervous system will probably cause severe hallucinations.  Where is he now?"

"He's up in his room.  I wanted to bring him outside, but he wouldn't let me get him out of bed."

"It's not going to get any easier, Loraine.  Are you sure you still want to take care of him?"

"There's a lot of money in this law suit, Doctor."  She winked.  He took her softly into his arms and kissed her passionately.

Comments

Oh no, it is a soap opera!  Okay I"m game.

Answer 4

Part IV

I may be a fucking cripple, but my eyes aren’t paralyzed!  That bitch is down there sucking face with Doctor Larue!

In that instant Tom was beside himself.  He didn’t know whether to cry or scream.  He sat there frozen, not just his paralyzed lower body, but his brain.  As he watched his wife kissing another man visions started to appear.  A black shape came out from behind the oak tree and in a haphazard gait it made its way over to the two lovebirds.  Through the mist surrounding it I could see a long black cloak.  When it got near to them it pulled the cloak open exposing white brittle bones and a long machete.  The machete blade glistened like fresh made steel.  Tom began to smile.  The shape raised its bony arm with the machete held high and brought it down lopping off both of their heads.

“TOM!  WAKE UP!  You were having a nightmare dear.”

Tom still had the last vestiges of that vision cluttering his mind as he awoke with Loraine standing over him with a steamy cup of something he couldn’t make out.

“I brought you some coffee darling.”

Tom took the cup and sipped the coffee.  The warmth of the liquid and the wetness he felt in his throat made life more clear.

Comments

Oh bad boy giraffe, I couldn't let you take it that way...

Answer 5

Part V

I asked if Dr. Larue had been here today and she said no.  The line between reality and fantasy was getting vague as hell.  She said that Dr. Laura came by, though.

"What's in this drink?"  I asked.  "And what was Dr. Laura doing here?"

"It's just a little potion that Dr. Laura brewed up for you.  Feel better yet?"

"Well, now that you mention it, the voices are dimmer today."  The man in the black cloak was standing right next to her and they were both moving in my direction.  "Look out!  I think I'm about to wake up again!"

I did.  Now I was back in the hospital.  Dr. Larue was telling me that I needed to sign some release papers if I want to go home.  Loraine and Dr. Laura were there with him.  "Just give me the papers and get me out of here."  They were all turning various shades of color.  A green and purple Dr. Laura pushed my wheelchair down the hall and the voices started up again.

'Tom,'  they said.  'You can't live like this.'

Comments

OK.  No more make-out scenes, Doug.

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There are no rules in this game.  Write what you feel and twist it another way in a different direction.  You didn't even notice I used "very bad" words and I picked on you for there use in another story I thought that could be written without them.  I thought you would jump all over that!

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I noticed, Doug, but as I said those words are just expletives.  If you say "fucking cripple", you don't mean cripple having sex.  If you say "shit happens", it really has nothing to do with bowel movements.  It's descriptive jargon.  "Go to hell"  isn't about satanism or demons.  On and on.

Answer 6

Part VI

The hospital wheelchair was horrible.  It made a grinding sound with every revolution of the wheels.  I could see how dingy the metal framing was.  For how much I’m paying for this you’d think I could have a shiny one at least!  My journey down the corridor continued and so did the voices.  We passed the restrooms and the orderly seemed to slow down just as we reached an open storage room.  It was dark and there was a musty smell emanating from it.  The voices spoke, “Come on in Tom, we have a present for you.”  Wanting nothing of their presents or presence I screamed at my entourage to hurry it up.  We arrived at the van and they gently lifted my broken body into the front seat.  Do you know how funny a seat belt feels when you can’t feel it across your lap?  It was like it was a plot and they had cut it into pieces so Loraine could wreck and be done with me.

I felt worthless.
I felt heartbroken.

I felt nothing, but the voices felt for me.

Answer 7

Part VIII

The black figure in the cloak was me…

That thought stuck in my head for quite some time while I lay in that field of wheat.  The only outside distractions were the arguments over at the van about who’s fault the “accident” was.  Dr. Phil was driving but Oprah being the primadonna she is decided that Dr Phil’s driving skills needed some tweaking so she jerked the wheel sending us careening into a ditch.  Being a cripple and of no use my floppy body flipped out the open window (damn hospital wheelchair!) and landed in this wheat field.

Lying here amongst the rustling chaffs of wheat I was actually enjoying the sudden solitude.  The vision of the cloaked man appeared before my face again and I finally did realize that the hooded hideous shape I had feared, who had done my dirty work in my dreams was really me.  I was never clearer about anything now; I was beginning to become whole again.  I could recognize what the visions meant and I could put them to good use or they could go away forever.

I lurched my flaccid lower body inching closer to the wrecked van.  The tips of the wheat tickled my face as I made my way through it.  I reached the van and there wasn’t a sound.  The van had been reduced to nothing more than a crippled hunk of metal.  They were all dead.  My dear wife had perished in the accident too.  Only I remained and the voices of course.

Answer 8

Number IX,  Number IX?

IX in the Tarot is the number of The Hermit.  That was me.  All alone.  Part of me wanted someone to notice us and help, but most of me wanted to just be alone - no Oprah, no Doctors, no Loraine.  I was hungry so I pulled myself up by my forearms and got the donuts.  They were good.  I especially like the cherry topping and Dr. Laura was nice to get a few of those.

I leaned back against the van and watched the sun set.  Mmm.  Good donuts.  Watching the sun took my mind off of my misery.  I thought 'Why do these disasters always happen to me?'  Then I'd giggle and have another half a donut.  Life was good.

I flashed back to when I ran the streets as a child kicking a ball.  The times I had wild sex and worked out at the gym.  The simple memory of getting up to pee by myself was very pleasant.  I didn't know if I was dying or not.  My head hurt like hell.  Maybe I have a concussion or aneurism.  The donuts are sure good.

I'm slipping..... slipping..... out.

Answer 9

Part X

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E-bay item #15567
One Wheelchair (gently used)

B/O


                                             -30-