The Orchid

by Robert Waggoner

  The clinic was in a modern high-rise medical center with state of the art equipment and facilities. I was expecting a third-world style medical center with dirt floors and antique equipment and was relieved the moment I saw the place. My mom and dad were relieved too, so I know they secretly had harbored the same fears. Dr. Lang introduced us to the staff, Maria and Ling would be my nurses. We toured the operating room that was stainless steel and as modern as any I had seen. With the surgery scheduled for the next morning at 9:00 a.m., Maria and Ling took me to my hospital room.

  The room was set up the way you would want your bedroom to be set up if you were handicapped. Everything was accessible and easy to use. Even the bed could be raised and lowered electrically to suit the height of the patient. It was a lot more comfortable than my room at home and I was very comfortable in my room!

  Alone in my hospital room to wait for morning, I decided to write down my love for Lindsey just in case. I grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from the table and tried to think how to begin. I wasted an hour and six or seven sheets of paper before I finally found myself on the right track.

  Lindsey

  I’m not sure I can tell you what I feel. My language ability seems inadequate when it comes to writing these kinds of letters: letters that are necessary because we are physically apart. One thing you never knew, and I want you to know now, is what you did to me about four years ago.

  Remember the time you came back from vacation and didn’t even go into your house? You came right over so you could tell me about your vacation. You ran across the yard just to see me. We’d known each other for one year and I had grown to like you. I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, so bear with me. Don’t show this to anyone! Anyway, I guess I’m really feeling like I need to remember everything about you right now. I’m hungry because I can’t eat anything before surgery and I’m lonely because this place is shutting down for the night…okay, but please! You came running across the yard and I felt a thrill go through me. It was totally unexpected that you would be so anxious to see me. I listened to every sound in the house to see if I could tell that you were anxious to see me or just trying to get out of unloading the car (ha). The front door opened, my mom gave you a hug and you flew up the steps. I heard every footstep and you were hurrying. Oh, Lindsey! I felt so good. I think you remember me teasing you about your Bawstahn accent…but what really happened was I noticed for the first time that you were growing up. Your chest gave you away. And, when you left to go back and help unload, you brushed my cheek with a kiss. How come I can still see you and feel the feather-light touch of that kiss here in Sao Paulo?

  One thing I know for sure is that you love me. I can tell by the way you want to sit near me in the car. I feel complete when you put your head on my shoulder and your long, brown hair that smells so good, falls onto my chest. I’m in the hospital here in Brazil, over a thousand miles from you and I can smell your hair. Isn’t that silly? Truthfully, I’m scared—until I remember the way you looked at me with such transparent belief that this was the right thing for me…for us…no, that’s not true. Lindsey, I’m here because I want to be whole when I marry you, if you will have me, no matter how long it takes or how many obstacles appear in our way.

  I don’t want to lose any more time. One of these days, if this surgery works, I’m going to stand up and let you put your arms around me while I put mine around you. It’s probably nothing to someone who hasn’t lived in a wheelchair as long as I have. Right now it seems like that would be the greatest gift I could receive.

  I love you, Lindsey.

  I folded the letter and sealed it into an envelope. I scribbled Lindsey’s name on it and put it on the table. Then it was morning. My mom and dad came early and we talked about nothing and everything. It was the kind of talk you do when you are nervous but don’t want to talk about being nervous. They told me about the weather, about talking to my nurses—who I had not seen since they tucked me into bed. They told me about breakfast and then about supper the previous night. It made my stomach growl.

  Maria and Ling came in. They put an IV in after scrubbing the back of my hand raw with an alcohol pad! The doctor came in as they were gowning me and he talked to us while Maria painted my back with purple liquid. Dr. Lang said we were ready to go and that he would report to my parents when I was in recovery.

  They shifted me to another bed and rolled me onto my stomach. The last thing I noticed was Maria sticking a syringe into the IV line. I woke up twelve hours later. The first faces I saw were Maria and Ling and then I saw my mom, dad, and what seemed like minutes later, Dr. Lang. I could make out that he was talking but could not hear or understand his words. I thought he was talking in Spanish or Portuguese. My parents told me later that he was describing the surgery and explaining to them how well it had gone.

  I had to stay in bed at the hospital for the next two and a half weeks. I got to know Maria and Ling. They were conscientious and attentive. Ling was from China and Maria was from Mexico. Ling spoke Portuguese with such a funny accent that Maria sometimes told her to speak in English so she could understand her. I felt no pain from the surgery. They took a donor graft from my leg and the doctor told me I would have a battle scar. I would have a scar on my back too, but I already had one from the accident. Maria and Ling exercised my legs three and four times a day after the surgery. They made me do pull ups to keep my strength up and chided me when I did not eat as much as I should.

  Lindsey’s parents took vacation, back to the Boston area, and Lindsey went with them while I was in Brazil. She wrote to me every day. I got her letters and cards in bunches because of the mail system. It did not matter. I was happy to get them.

  I wrote back and Maria mailed my postcards and letters for me the first week. When I did not know if Lindsey would get them because she was on vacation, I kept them. I sealed each one separately and asked my mom put them in my suitcase.

  At last, the time came to return to the states. The flight home was exhausting. Lindsey was waiting when the ambulance my dad hired to bring me from the airport drove into our driveway. She waited with my parents while the attendants put me into bed. When all that was over, she kissed me and hugged me. Her hair tickled my face and it was the best feeling in the world. Before she left, I gave her the letter I had written and told her to read it at home. I forgot about the dozen other letters I had written and did not remember them until after she left.

  I gathered that she liked my letter from the look in her eyes when she came back the next day after reading it.

  “I almost ran over here last night after I read this letter!” She bent down and brushed my cheek with her lips. “Is that the kind of kiss you remember?”

  I nodded.

  “We’ve kissed a few times since that one,” she said.

  “I know, but that one meant so much…I didn’t really explain it very well in the letter. People kiss for many reasons. You didn’t have to kiss me at all. None of the reasons I could think of were good enough to explain that kiss except that you liked me a lot. I didn’t like myself! You liked me more than I liked myself!” I was babbling.

  Lindsey’s eyes were bright. She leaned down and kissed me on the lips.

  Over the next few days, Lindsey helped my mom by exercising my legs as the doctor prescribed. Those were some great times together.

  Every day during my mandatory convalescent time, Lindsey came over and read, played chess and spent hours talking to me. Since it was summer and I was pinned down, so to speak, she had me all to herself. I was happy when it was over and I could get back into the wheelchair. At least life would get back to normal for a while. I was ready!

  Things were tenser with her parents than I would have expected. I thought they would be happy for me and encourage me but they were mute on the subject of my surgery. They came over a few times to play games and things seemed to be relaxed a little more each time. I knew they wished me well; it just would have been nice to hear it from them.

/>   Lindsey grew at least another inch. It was hard to judge when you are stuck at four feet. It did seem like she had to bend further to kiss me and that caused another revelation. She had grown up in more than height!

  Without any feeling below the waist, my relationship with Lindsey was…different. I appreciated her growing beauty with my eyes and my heart. Before my accident, I was a normal fifteen-year-old and the way I viewed girls was from the waist up. (Not their waist—mine) After the accident, one of the guys who used to be my friend smuggled a Playboy into my room. He thought it would be funny, I guess or maybe he just did not think. I was so depressed about the accident and my lot in life that I threw the magazine away after glancing at the pictures. I could not tell if they excited me or not. That one incident probably caused my former jock friends and me to part ways. They came back to tease me and talk dirty and I kicked them out.

  That is why I was mad at the world. I had no interest in girls. That is why it was so remarkable that Lindsey made it past my defenses. Perhaps because she was just eleven, going on twelve at the time I did not see her as a threat—a reminder of my incapacity. She was like an annoying sister that you loved to hate. A pest that turned out to have more brains than any two kids I ever met in my life! Moreover, when I met her, I was four feet tall. She was taller than I was.

  When I made it back into my wheelchair, she bent down to kiss me the first time, the neck of her shirt hung down, and I got a glimpse of…well, I would describe it but it is private. Suffice it to say she was not wearing a bra. Anyway, it astounded me and I almost could not close my lips to kiss her!

  She noticed too. She apologized and then kissed me again—only this time she held her hand against the top of her shirt to keep it from acting like a peep show. I had a touch more passion in my kiss than I could ever remember. When she sat down across from me, my eyes kept straying to her tee shirt. When she went home that night, I could not get that picture out of my mind. I finally decided my life was quite full and wonderful because I could admire her physical beauty as well as the inner beauty that I had come to respect and love since we met. Still, I could not help but think that maybe, if the miracle happened, I would…I put it out of my mind and went to sleep.

  The next day she wore a bra and apologized for the mistake. “I take you for granted,” she said holding my hand. “I forget about stuff like that,” she said awkwardly.

  “Look,” I said, “It’s just that I was startled. I’ve been taking you for granted too. I’ve been admiring your mind and your spirit for four years and I forgot that you were growing more beautiful in other ways too.”

  She smiled so sweetly that it made the back of my throat hurt. It made me realize in that moment she was a woman and had been waiting for me to tell her that I found her to be beautiful, not just brainy. I kicked myself for being a dumb klutz. It seems like I become aware of things suddenly only to realize they have been there all along. Her expression of delight warmed my heart. Then she spoke the most beautiful words a woman can give a man, “I love you, Jimmy Turner!” Our kiss lasted a long time.

  There is nothing like physical therapy. I had three sessions a week starting August first, only a couple of days after I got back into my wheelchair. Doctor Lang did not want to waste any time. After thirty minutes the first time out I was completely spent. The braces that now stabilized me instead of a titanium rod in my back were a lot less comfortable if my skin was any judge. Here’s a hint: use Udder Cream for the sores. I got into bed at night—and had to lie on a very hard mattress to keep my spine straight when I took the braces off. Anyway, hot packs, cold packs, ultrasound, and one or more types of electrical stimulation followed the hard work in therapy sessions.

  I felt none of the physical therapy in my legs, even though that was where the therapist was concentrating, but I did feel it in my chest, lungs, and heart. I did not mind the swimming pool sessions but the parallel bars and attempting to walk was murder on my shoulders.

  August was hot but with our birthdays coming up, I wanted to do something special for Lindsey. Because of what the therapy consisted of, I suddenly had an idea and my therapist, thankfully, went along with it. I asked Lindsey to go with me to the next therapy session, which happened to fall on her birthday. I told her we would do something after therapy but I really wanted her to come. She agreed and rode with me to the University. I kept looking at her and finally she gave me that quizzical look that I did not need translated into words.

  “Do you know how tall I am?” I asked.

  She looked at me. It was rare to catch her off guard. I could see her trying to estimate, then the light of humor came into her eyes, and she said, “About four feet, one inch.”

  “Funny,” I said.

  She loosened her seat belt and slid over on the seat next to me. She fastened the center belt and kissed my cheek. “You’re the right size for me, Jimmy.” She snuggled against me.

  We talked about my research, and I could see that the discussion invigorated her. She really wanted to know about Meckler’s Disease. “I haven’t found any more research on it since that weird thing about the flower,” I told her.

  “And he hasn’t written back to you?”

  “Not a word.”

  “What about Chuck’s brother, Steve, the doctor?”

  “Oh shoot! I need to call him.”

  “Do you think he knows anything?”

  “I’m not sure, really. I’m hoping he can help guide me in this research. Plus, I have to have a mentor next year. I figure that if Chuck’s brother wouldn’t mind, he could mentor me too.”

  “That’s a great idea.” Lindsey’s brown hair was done up in a bun. I had never seen it like that except on formal occasions. I much preferred it hanging loose because it was so pretty.

  I took my hand off the controls and put my arm around her shoulders. She snuggled against me. The long, straight highway did not require two hands on the wheel. I loved the way she felt against me. I guess what I loved the most was how she seemed to love me so fiercely. She never missed a chance to be with me. She challenged me because she was a thinker who did not accept anything at face value. She saw through my moods and left me alone when that was the wiser course of action. And she was beautiful.

  We rode in silence for so long that I thought she might be sleeping. I could not wait for the day when I would wake up in my bed and she would be smiling at me. Or maybe she would be asleep and I would thrill as she opened her eyes and then smiled when she saw me. Instead of the triangle above my bed, I wanted Lindsey’s face to be the first thing I saw in the morning!

  The physical therapy section was by itself—away from the hustle and bustle of normal campus life. That helped with the parking problem. Even though I had the handicapped-parking pass, it was just pleasant to be away from student drivers trying to get a place at the last minute. A wheelchair rider is not very easy to see when you are a half-asleep teenager with a souped-up car rushing to catch a parking spot.

  Lindsey followed me in. The receptionist smiled at me and pushed the buzzer to let me into the therapy rooms. I punched the blue button and the doors swung open. I wheeled down the hallway. Matt, my trainer, was waiting. He shook hands with Lindsey and gave me a look that made me want to punch him and happy that he was so envious at the same time.

  “I’m going to get Jimmy ready.” He handed her a tape measure. “Hold on to this.” He saw the question in her eyes. “Jimmy’s request,” he grinned at her.

  Matt positioned me in the harness and then helped me stand between the parallel bars. I gripped them and progressively “walked” up the incline until my feet were flat and my legs were straight. Then Matt adjusted the harness that stabilized me and called Lindsey to come over.

  Lindsey had been watching my progress with a great deal of interest. She got up quickly and came to stand beside me. She handed the tape measure to Matt. He took it and then asked her to come around the parallel bars. He guided her to the other end. At once, she understo
od what he wanted and stepped up between the bars and came to stand in front of me. When she stopped in front of me, we were standing face-to-face for the first time. The top of her head came to my chin. It thrilled me when she looked up to see my face. “So how do I look,” I asked quietly.

  “Tall,” she replied. The smile on her face matched mine.

  Matt muttered, “Happy birthday!” Then he turned and nearly ran out of the room.

  I grinned at Lindsey. I was supporting my weight with my arms but I felt comfortable. I’d held myself in this position for fifteen minutes during therapy sessions while I dragged my legs “walking.”

  “Happy Birthday, Lindsey,” I said softly. Then I leaned forward to kiss her on the lips. Lindsey unhesitatingly raised her lips to mine. When the kiss was over, she started to cry tears of joy. I felt a surge of hope go through me. She hugged me and cried all the more because it was the first time she was able to put her arms all the way around me and lay her head on my chest. It was awesome!

  Matt gave us five minutes together. I found myself wishing I could put my arms around her in the same way she was holding me. But since it was the first time she had seen me “standing” and the first time I’d been able to lean down and kiss her instead of her leaning down to kiss me, I was happy. I could smell her hair and the scent of the soap she had used that morning and feel the wetness on my chest from her cheeks.

  When my therapist walked back into the room, he handed Lindsey the tape measure. She measured me. “Six feet, one inch,” she announced, letting the tape scroll back into the container.

  Matt helped me get into the chair then and for most of the therapy session, Lindsey watched from the bench. When Matt put the electric stimulation pads on my legs Lindsey came over and held my hand. She pretended that she was getting the buzzing sensation and we laughed together. She sat on the floor near my bench and kissed me on the nose. “This was nice,” she said softly.