The Orchid

by Robert Waggoner

  She just smiled.

  I could not figure out what she meant by that and she was not going to explain.

  I knew she meant what she said; she never lied or embellished the truth. She did not have to. The more I pondered the motto, the more I saw Lindsey’s life reflected. She studied for the sheer joy of learning. She reached out to others in order to know them more deeply. She was becoming better daily because she kept her footing and balance. I could not see how that described me at all until after Lindsey stepped into my life. It might be true of me now. Perhaps she could not see what effect she had on others. Perhaps she attributed that motto to me because she did not see her reflection when she looked at the mirror she knew as Jimmy Turner. It was true that she learned things from me but that was different. She caused everyone around her to want to live up to his or her potential. She, more than me, lived the motto.

  I admired something else in Lindsey’s character. She took the hurt for a foolish decision if it belonged to her. She told me once that she would rather take the heat and get it over with than live in the dread of it. I think she was twelve when she told me that. I never forgot it. I watched her apply that principle.

  Once, Lindsey broke a dish while she was cooking something for me during one of mom and dad’s mini-vacations. She swept it up and put it in a brown paper bag. I urged her to throw it out, telling her that nobody would miss it. It was not that important. I used a dozen arguments that were sound and reasonable, but flawed from her perspective. She sat down at the table and looked at me as if I was a child. “Jimmy, I love your mom. It was an accident and I want her to know about it. This is a little thing but I’m going to keep things clean between us because your mom trusts me with a much bigger thing.”

  I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”

  She gave me a look that made me check to see if I had spinach hanging from my teeth. “Look around you,” she said softly.

  I looked around me. The clock ticked its way to 7:30 p.m., the kitchen smelled of spaghetti and meatballs, the dishes were done and put away. I felt like I was missing something important. “What?”

  “Don’t you see me, Jimmy?” She asked.

  “Of course I see you!” I was getting upset.

  She gave me the raised eyebrow look. I went through the search in my mind again. Nope, I did not see what she was getting at.

  “Your mom and dad are gone, Jimmy. They let me come over here because your mom trusts me.”

  I probably turned three shades of red. I actually thought it was because mom and dad knew nothing could happen between us! Lindsey saw it much differently. She saw it as a trust issue. To my discredit, I shook my head as if I thought she was being silly.

  I found tons of information on blood clots and by the end of my first year in college, I felt overwhelmed by the amount of information I had to process. One thing became a certainty from the research; it was vital that I become more active. It was good that I was developing upper body strength but I still had to exercise my legs. As long as blood flowed and muscles existed, exercise was needed. I also discovered that I needed exercise in order to keep bone density.

  My dad found some equipment that would help and set it up in the remaining upstairs bedroom. Part of my daily regime was to spend thirty minutes on the exercise equipment in the spare bedroom. Lindsey immediately subscribed to that as well. She had to help me get onto some of the equipment so she just stayed and began to work out with me. For some reason my dad bought a stationary bike—which we discovered I could not manage, but he left it because Lindsey used it.

  My first year in college passed quickly. I thought the classes were easy but then I knew how to study, thanks to Lindsey.

  According to chess club members who slipped me information about high school affairs quite unwittingly, Lindsey was very popular. The rumor was that she was going with a college boy and some of the girls who did not like Lindsey because she was their opposite in so many ways, began to spread vicious rumors about her sexual desires. The chess club members stood up for her but they were the nerds in school and their voices did not much matter. Thankfully, the antagonists were in the minority.

  Some of the teachers did not like Lindsey either. They could not fault her study skills or her test skills but they began to call her a know-it-all and some of them even smirked when she raised her hand to answer questions. Some chess club members considered going to the administration because these teachers were so blatant about not calling on Lindsey and ignoring her responses or using nonverbal language to show their distain.

  When I asked Lindsey how school was going, she always told me that she was enjoying it. I asked her how she could ignore the rumors, gossip, and teachers who were being so mean. We were working out when I asked her about it. She was riding the stationary bike and the turning wheel was humming while she considered her answer. “It hurts,” she admitted at last. “But they’re wrong. If I let it affect me, then they’re right.” She lifted her shoulders.

  “Aren’t you going to do anything about it?”

  She let the bicycle come to a stop. “I think I am going to do something about it but not right now.” She wiped her face with a towel and dropped the towel on the bench next to her. Her cheeks were flush with exertion.

  “What are you going to do?’

  “I don’t know, Jimmy.” She looked away and then back at me. “I guess I’ll wait for an opportunity to do something nice for one or more of them, if it comes up. Maybe they’ll change their minds.”

  “Do something nice? You can’t fight this by doing something nice! They don’t like you. They won’t let you do something nice for them. They’ll make it out to be something bad or say you are interfering or some such crap.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  I would have argued with her because I was feeling angry towards those stupid people who could not see that Lindsey was honorable, kind, sweet and…and she was right. Because she was not like them, she was going to overcome their handicap in the same way she overcame mine. I sighed. “You’re right. I’m just spouting off because I want to protect you. It makes me angry, that’s all.”

  Lindsey smiled at me. I loved that smile! “I’ll be okay, Jimmy. Thank you for feeling like that.”

  I returned to my exercises frustrated with small-minded people. One of the machines exercised my legs and as it did, I wondered if there was something I could do to help the situation—and not make it worse. It dawned on me that Lindsey had taken the same approach with me when we first met.

  Lindsey was not soft in the sense that anyone could push her around. She had a mental and emotional toughness that went miles beyond mine. When I thought about it, she simply told the truth even if it she was at fault. That took toughness. She confronted people in such a way that they appreciated it. I longed to have that skill when I needed it. I was more like the bull in the china shop breaking things that did not need to be broken just because I usually had to be mad in order to confront injustice.

  The new routine made the year pass quickly. The spring semester gave me a change of classes and topics but the routine stayed the same. I shut my ears to the chess club gossip about Lindsey and boys and teachers just because it served no purpose for me to hear it. I could not do anything about it until Lindsey asked for my help. If she did not ask, she would most likely take care of it very well on her own.

  Lindsey entered her junior year in high school as I began my second year at the University. I loved my studies but so far, I had only done the basics. This year I was going to begin studying the science of the body and I was looking forward to it. Lindsey was a straight “A” student and we met every night to compare notes, exchange occasional saliva and do our homework. Lindsey was still in the chess club and on weekends, after homework was done to her satisfaction, we played chess or backgammon.

  One evening, watching her as she concentrated on the chessboard I was struck by her looks. From a homely pre-teen with gaps in her teeth,
Lindsey had blossomed. She saw me staring at her after she moved. “Like what you see, Mister?”

  “Very, very much,” I replied honestly.

  “Ah, you say that…” Then she giggled.

  “My parents tell me that you are bombarded with invitations to the prom.”

  “Yes, that’s true. Every member of the chess club has asked me at least twice.” She gave me a coy look. “But I’m holding out for a past president of that prestigious club.”

  “I would love to take you to the prom. Will you go with me?”

  “I don’t know. Can you dance?”

  I backed my wheelchair away from the card table and did a series of wheelies and maneuvers. “Good enough?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen those steps before,” she teased me. “How can I learn them in time?”

  “Hop on,” I grinned.

  It was a little harder with Lindsey on my lap but the dance was nice. When my arms refused to work any longer, Lindsey kissed me and stood up. “I would be delighted to go with you. We’ll be the talk of the prom.”

  There was another reason for going to the prom. I had missed prom both my junior and senior years because I could not take Lindsey. She was just too young when I was eligible to go. I wanted to make it up to her. And, the boys at school considered Lindsey “hot” but could never figure out why she refused to give them a second glance. Now they would know. I thought it would take some of the pressure off her. She thought so too.

  I spent an hour on the internet going through hundreds of flower shops to find the right corsage for Lindsey. I wanted this corsage to do what I could not. I could not dance with her physically but she would feel me next to her heart and the rest of the girls at the prom would envy her because her man considered her his perfect flower. I finally found it—a Cataleya Orchid. This particular strain only grew in Hawaii and then in rare locations where volcanic rock and perfect humidity allowed it to bloom. Its texture, shape, and color fascinated me. It was perfect! It was a rare bloom for a precious flower.

  We discussed prom etiquette one afternoon. I told her that I wanted to do everything a normal date would. I would get out of my car, roll up to her front door and ring the bell. I wanted to come inside, pin the corsage on her in front of her parents, and then open the door to the car for her. She gave me a look that said it was not necessary but her eyes shone with just the right amount of mist that I knew she loved the idea.

  The Andersons were waiting with cameras in hand when I went through the process of picking Lindsey up. My mom and dad were there with cameras too.

  The school cafeteria was the only room large enough for the prom. The band was a local group and the kids were dressed in suits or, if they could afford it, tuxedos. I wheeled in as Lindsey walked next to me. I did not know these kids very well. The only ones I knew were the members of the chess club because they met regularly at my house. I greeted a couple of them while Lindsey and some of the other girls went to the powder room to make sure gowns, corsages and hair were perfect.

  “Hey, Jimmy!”

  I looked up. It was Chuck Singleton, a member of the chess club. “Hey Chuck,” I said. We did not shake hands; we did something that resembled slapping meat, cheese and then mayo on bread—a real nerd handshake. He sat down at the table and introduced Cindy Hall to me.

  “Where’s Lindsey?”

  “I think she went to the bathroom.”

  A few other couples drifted past our table. One of them, a boy who looked distinctly uncomfortable in a suit, gave me a malevolent look. I was not sure if he was reacting to my wheelchair or my age. I looked over at Chuck who saw it. “That’s Frank Thornton,” he said. “He’s got a thing for Lindsey, I think. Anyway, he bugs her all the time.” He motioned with his hand, “Those are his two best friends with him.”

  “Where’s his date?” I asked.

  “See that skinny black-haired girl sitting at that table over there? That’s her; Marci something.”

  “What do you mean he’s ‘got a thing’ for Lindsey?”

  “He’s a nut case. I don’t know why Marci hangs with him.” Chuck’s mouth curled in an expression of distaste. “She must be hard up.”

  I looked around the room. Candles seemed to be the only lighting. Frank and his two friends were staring in our direction. Already junior boys were showing off by holding their fingers over the flame until it hurt. The girls were giggling at their date’s antics. Frank was ignoring his date.

  Lindsey arrived at the table then, looking fresh and beautiful, and sat down.

  The band started playing, Lindsey looked at me, touched her corsage and got up with Cindy, and they danced. It was a fast dance and Cindy already knew Chuck did not know how and Lindsey knew I could not. I watched Lindsey. She wore a long blue dress that made her eyes glow and set off her figure in amazing ways. She told me it was her parent’s gift to her. They saved money for it by not going out to lunch for three months! She called it an Allen Schwartz Charmeuse gown. All I know is that it showed off her slim figure magnificently. The gown’s hem was cut higher in the front than in the back. I guess that was to show off the shoes. Watching her dance, I decided her shoes were part of the package too. They were single strap, open toe low heels that matched her dress perfectly. I thought she was the prettiest girl on the floor and so did a group of boys who stood and gaped and got scowls from their dates.

  When Lindsey came back flushed and happy she leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I was dancing with you,” she said.

  Chess club members came by the table at various times with drinks and nuts and other items from the serving table. Lindsey danced with anyone who asked—by mutual agreement. Each time she left to dance, she touched her corsage and when she came back to the table, she would sit and hold my hand so everyone could see she was with me.

  The band took their break midway through the prom and Lindsey asked me to walk her to her locker so she could get something. I suspected she just wanted to get away from the crowd for a few minutes. We entered the hallway and took a left along the first corridor and then a right at the intersecting hallway. Her locker was at the far end of the building.

  When we were alone, she leaned down and kissed me. “Thank you for taking me to the prom,” she said.

  I patted my lap. She looked at me, concerned that she might wrinkle my tuxedo but I did not care about that. She put her hands on the armrests and lowered herself to my lap. She had to put her feet on mine. She adjusted her dress and I wheeled her down the long corridor loving the feeling of her against my chest and the smell of her hair. At her locker, I held her for a little while. It was difficult to kiss but we managed to do it twice before I heard the sound of feet in the corridor behind us. Lindsey bolted out of the chair and guiltily twisted the dial of her locker as three boys came around the corner. I could hear her suppressing giggles.

  “There they are!” One of the boys said.

  Lindsey turned. She did not need to speak; her expression conveyed her dismay.

  From that expression, I guessed this was not going to be pleasant. I turned my wheelchair to face the boys who were staggering slightly. I figured they had just come out of the boy’s bathroom up the hallway.

  “What’s up, Lindsey?” One of the boys said. He stopped a few feet away from us and the other two bunched up around him.

  “Nothing’s up, Harold.” Lindsey stepped away from the locker and stood beside me. I could feel the tension in her body even though we were not touching. “Hello Mark… Frank.” She named them all so I would know their names.

  “So this is why you dance with girls.” Mark, the boy with a perpetual sneer, said. Lindsey did not react to the insult. She remained calm. Her fingers rested lightly on my shoulders as she stood behind me. Mark laughed. “You prefer cripples in wheelchairs to…”

  “There’s no need for that,” I warned. “Why don’t you boys just go back to your party?” I used the word boys deliberately and did not think better of it until afte
r I said it. The old anger in me was taking over.

  They looked down at me and then ignored me. They spoke to Lindsey. “Come on, Lindsey, we’ll show you how to have a better time than you could ever have with a cripple.”

  They moved closer as a pack. I smelled alcohol. The school had certainly changed. I tensed, readying myself for what might come from these idiots. If one of them got close enough for me to grab I could do something. I looked back. Lindsey was behind me and to my left so they would have to move me out of the way to get to her.

  “How is Marci, Frank?” Lindsey asked gently. She looked at the other boy who was hanging back just slightly.

  The others sniggered at this. They knew Lindsey was mentioning Marci in order to remind Frank that he already had a date and she was probably missing him. Frank stepped closer.

  His reaction made me bridle. “Get out of here before one of you gets hurt,” I said with as much menace in my voice as I could muster. The old anger was coming up in me and it felt good. Lindsey’s hand was on my shoulder and I felt her fingers dig into me. She wanted me to soften my tone, but I could not find soft words.

  The boys stopped moving toward us. Their courage temporarily interrupted by the tone of my voice. “What are you going do, ram into us with your wheelchair?” Harold’s mocking voice made me turn toward him. He backed away at my sudden move.

  I needed to diffuse the situation and protect Lindsey if I could. I stuck my hand out in a gesture of friendship. “Hey, let’s be friends,” I said softly.

  The move caught them off guard. They needed time to adjust.

  “I don’t want any trouble, guys,” I said. “We’re all here to have fun, right?”

  I could feel Lindsey’s fingers kneading my shoulder. She hoped I would follow her lead. But I remembered Chuck telling me Frank had made moves on Lindsey. I could tell he was upset that Lindsey was with me instead of him.

  “Let’s leave the little cripple boy and his slut girlfriend,” Frank said with the same sneer in his words.