Locked Inside

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Locked Inside Page 11

by Annette Mori


  Ideas, Genius? I wrote.

  “Yeah, I think we should build a rack with little cubbies to put everything in that matches the height of your chair. Nothing too high or too low,” Carly answered.

  I think our dads were feeling a bit claustrophobic in the small dorm room because they declared agreement in stereo. “Great idea.”

  “We’ll go out and get the supplies, right, Bill?” my dad offered.

  “Yes, we’ll do that while you ladies fix up the room,” Carly’s dad agreed.

  It wasn’t long before the moms and Fran, who’d joined our little group, had the beds made and clothes put away and arranged by color. My mom was a little OCD when it came to housekeeping. Everyone pitched in to add the little touches to the décor making it a little warmer and homier—well, as homey as you can get in a dorm room.

  Carly’s sisters and Evie had stayed back in Bellingham—choosing to skip the whole send your kid off to college chaos. I didn’t blame them because moving into the dorm with several hundred other people was pandemonium personified. Fran was there because UW was the school she’d chosen to attend. I liked having my older sister at the same school because she was a great support to me.

  By the time our dads returned with supplies for the rack, our room was fairly well set up. They were carrying a veritable home improvement store in their arms as they struggled through the door with their bounty.

  “My God, Bill, what in the world did you two purchase? Is there anything left at Home Depot?” Carly’s mom asked.

  They both grinned like little boys. “Well, how did you expect us to build this thing without the proper tools? All we bought was a circular saw, power drill, tool set, measuring tape and a little hardware. Arrh, arrh, arrh,” Bill, Carly’s dad grunted like Tim, The Tool Man Taylor on the television show Tool Time. He bumped my dad’s fist and our moms both rolled their eyes.

  Carly laughed out loud. “Hey, can we keep the cool tools?” she asked.

  “Well of course, pumpkin. That’s why we bought the top of the line for you girls,” Bill answered.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Bill. Where do you think they’re going to store all that crap?” Dr. Sullivan asked.

  “Oh we plan on building such a masterpiece that the girls will have a place for everything,” my dad jumped in.

  “Come on girls, let’s leave the master architects to the magnum opus,” Mom quipped.

  We let the men work and headed out for a late lunch. As we left, they immediately bent their heads together, studying the diagram my dad had scrawled on a piece of paper.

  †

  Although Mom and Dad offered to buy a top of the line electric chair, I wanted to strengthen my arms, so I refused their offer. At times, this proved to be one of my greatest challenges. The Americans with Disabilities Act has regulations that weren’t written to make a contractor’s life miserable, but to make it easier on people like me who struggle to get around. It makes a huge difference to a person in a wheelchair whether a ramp slope meets the one to twelve ratio needed for easy maneuverability.

  As we navigated through the throngs of students and back to our car, I was beginning to get a sense of how hard it would be on me to navigate the campus. I was already a little tired and I’d only traveled to and from the car.

  Carly glanced at me and I could tell she noticed that my energy was waning. She nonchalantly stepped behind my wheelchair and pushed me the rest of the way to the car. I was too tired to argue.

  After we got to the restaurant, Carly whispered something in Fran’s ear.

  I quickly pulled out my tablet and wrote, hey, no secrets.

  Carly got a sheepish look on her face and said, “Sorry, Belinda. I just mentioned to Fran that with all the excitement of today, we both could use a little bit of relaxation after we eat. Hopefully, the master builders will be done by the time we return.”

  The moms shared a look. They’d gotten to be friends after Carly and I starting spending more time with one another and often shared looks of conspiracy.

  “Yes, I think when we return, it’s time to let you girls settle in. Besides, we need to get back home before it gets too late,” Mom declared.

  “Of course, before we leave, I suspect we’ll need to clean up the mess our master builders left. Goodness only knows what we’ll come back to,” Dr. Sullivan remarked.

  “Did I actually spy a small Shop-Vac in their bounty?” Mom asked.

  “Dad’s version of a vacuum cleaner,” Fran answered.

  My mom shook her head, Dr. Sullivan rolled her eyes, and Carly laughed.

  We delayed our return trip to the dorm room by relaxing at the restaurant and enjoying the complete female energy. No one knew how long it would take for the men to complete their project, so we spent some additional time relishing coffee and dessert.

  After our late lunch, Carly took her position behind my chair and pushed me back to the car. I was grateful for the additional assistance. I know my mom and Dr. Sullivan noticed because nothing by-passed their scrutiny, but neither one said a word.

  †

  The dads were grinning from ear to ear, proudly displaying their work of art. Sawdust clung on every inch of their clothing, but the floor was remarkably clean. I suspected that if either one of them made a quick movement, that relatively clean floor would no longer remain free from dust.

  Mom pointed to them. “Before you go all peacock on us and explain the inner workings of your masterpiece, both of you just march back outside and shake off the sawdust. Oh, and you can take that circular saw dust magnet with you.”

  I watched as sawdust that clung desperately to the saw fell to the floor when my dad picked it up—proving my mom correct.

  “Not sure what we’re going to do with two more sawhorses, but you can take those back to the car, as well,” Dr. Sullivan said.

  As they moved to the door, sure enough, some of the sawdust escaped and fluttered to the floor like tiny snowflakes.

  Fran shrugged and aimed the hose of the vacuum to the tiny piles of pulverized wood.

  I looked at the small bookshelf-like structure and was amazed that they’d found a little cubby for everything, including the new tools. It wasn’t fancy, but it did serve its intended purpose quite well. I noticed there were a few open spots—presumably, for additional items or gadgets I might need in the future. It certainly did organize everything in one handy location with the items stored at most people’s waist level. Everything would indeed be within my reach.

  “Brilliant,” Carly exclaimed. “They did a far better job than I would have expected.”

  “They did,” Mom grudgingly agreed.

  “Well, what do you think?” Dad asked.

  I turned around to see that the guys had returned, minus their wood crumbs.

  Mr. Sullivan placed the circular saw in one of the open holes.

  “Really, Bill?” Dr. Sullivan raised her eyebrow. “What, pray tell, do you think that Carly and Belinda will do with a circular saw? Take that ridiculous power tool back to the car before one of you cuts yourself. The girls do not need that thing in their dorm room.”

  “Okay, okay, but don’t blame us when you have a project that needs this little baby,” Mr. Sullivan grinned.

  “Thanks, Dad, but I’m pretty sure we’ll manage without that particular item. However, I think we’ll keep the toolbox and drill,” Carly said

  “That’s my girl.”

  Dr. Sullivan clapped her hands together. “All right, we should let the girls get settled and stop being helicopter parents.”

  Mom kissed me on the forehead. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

  Dad followed suit and kissed me on the cheek. “What your mom said.”

  †

  Soon it was just Carly and me in our new home away from home.

  Carly plopped on the bed and entwined her hands behind her head. She turned her face to me. “I think a nap is in order, then let’s go paint the town tonight in a most voracious manner.”
Carly grinned. “That’s my word for the day, voracious. It means an eager approach to an activity and believe me, I am very eager to explore our new surroundings.

  I was tired. I would have to work on my stamina.

  Carly popped up like one of those jack in the box toys, folded the covers down on my bed, put the brake on my wheelchair, tossed the tablet to the side, and lifted me into the bed. I think she knew my arms were a little shaky after all the excitement and use today. She fluffed the pillow behind my head and kissed me once again dangerously close to my mouth. I wished she would take the final plunge and kiss me on the mouth, but she wouldn’t cross that self-imposed boundary.

  Sleep was slow to come as I envisioned Carly’s lips on mine and what it might feel like if she actually did kiss me there. Carly seemed to toss and turn in her bed as well. I fantasized that she was thinking about me the same way I was thinking about her.

  I was in the middle of a beautiful dream in which I was walking toward Carly, who had her arms wide-open waiting for me to fold naturally into her. Carly broke our embrace and caressed my cheek as she engulfed my mouth in a searing kiss. Her tongue stroked softly outside my lips seeking entrance, which I gladly gave. Panting, we broke apart and she sighed. “God, how I love you, Belinda. I have since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

  I could hear my voice in my dream choke out four words. “I love you, too.”

  As I registered Carly’s shocked look, I felt someone gently shake my shoulder.

  My eyes opened to a smiling Carly. “Hey, sunshine, it’s uppy uppy time. Time to play the wild co-ed.” Carly sighed. “I wish we had some fake IDs. I’d love to visit a gay bar or any bar for that matter,” she quickly amended.

  I slowly pushed myself up and grabbed my ever present tablet. I would go to a gay bar with you. I could be your wing woman. I’d watch for the attractive ones that show interest.

  “Oh, aren’t you too sweet.”

  I felt rested—almost energized after my dream and I couldn’t wait to go out with Carly. I knew it wasn’t a date or anything, but I liked hanging out with her.

  †

  It was late when we finally returned to our room. We’d explored the U-district together. It was an eclectic gathering of people. I loved that about Seattle. We saw every nationality, as well as some clearly gay couples walking hand in hand down the street. I knew Carly would blossom in this environment. She wouldn’t have to endure the daily taunts from narrow-minded bigots.

  I got a lot less stares from the people who passed us in the street. I thought that maybe I wouldn’t be the only disabled student and I could find my own group of misfits to hang out with so that Carly didn’t feel the need to glue herself to my wheelchair.

  “Well, that was fun. I feel comfortable here. I think this is going to be the best four years of our lives, Belinda. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re my roommate and that we’ll be able to share this epic experience together,” she gushed.

  I nodded and smiled at her.

  She began to unbutton her shirt and tossed it haphazardly on her desk as she pulled out a T-shirt from one of the drawers in her small dresser. When she undid her bra, I nearly fainted in my chair. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away from her perfect, creamy white torso. I’d never seen Carly naked before. She was a goddess in my opinion.

  When she undid her pants and I saw the electric blue thong, it was my undoing. My breathing must have increased because Carly looked at me.

  I turned my eyes away.

  “Are you okay, Belinda?”

  She looked at me with such love and concern that I almost came out and confessed to her how much I wanted to kiss her.

  I scribbled a cryptic, yes, on my tablet.

  She pulled the T-shirt over her head and walked to me. She pushed a lock of hair behind my ear and glanced at my answer on the tablet. “Let me help you into bed. I’ll get you tucked right in, unless you need to use the bathroom first.”

  She smacked her head. “Damn, of course you do. We haven’t even brushed our teeth yet. I don’t mind helping if you’re too tired to use the bathroom on your own.”

  I shook my head. All the vulnerability I felt when she first took care of me no longer existed—Carley had stripped it to the bone. She’d bathed me, taken me to the bathroom, even wiped my ass before, so it wasn’t like this was something new. Nevertheless I was bound and determined to do everything I could on my own.

  I rolled into the bathroom, did my thing, grabbed a T-shirt from my dresser, and started struggling with changing my clothes. During the past couple of months, I’d specifically worked on bathroom and clothes changing skills with my therapists—plural. I had both physical and occupational therapists working with me. I also had a speech therapist, which I didn’t understand—because a fat lot of good she could do with a mute. Eventually, they must have agreed, because they diplomatically encouraged me to concentrate more on occupational and physical therapy. In other words, I was wasting the speech therapist’s time.

  When Carly came out of the bathroom, after following me to brush her teeth and get ready for bed, she walked to me in her skimpy T-shirt that barely covered her ass and that electric blue thong. I was halfway through my change, struggling with my soft hemp pants. She gently pulled them away from my body without speaking a word. I should have left them dangling around my ankles after my nightly pee.

  She looked into my eyes as she began to unbutton my loose fitting shirt. If we had been lovers, it would have been all part of the foreplay—but we weren’t. I let her pull the shirt off my shoulders and add it to my pants on the top of the desk. After she pulled the T-shirt over my head, she straightened it on my body before smoothing down the wrinkles with her hands. Her touch felt like a lover’s caress and it sent shivers up and down my body. Just kiss me already, I thought—but she didn’t.

  She backed away and let me transfer myself into bed. This would become our nightly ritual. I ached for the time right before bed when I would feel her gentle hands caress my body as she helped me get ready for bed. Sometimes her hands would linger just a bit too long as she removed my clothes and stroked a part of my body ever so lightly.

  As the crowning gesture, she would kiss the corner of my mouth, bid me goodnight, then slip into her own bed ten feet away from mine.

  “Goodnight, Belinda. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs or anything else bite.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The University of Washington campus was enormous and awe inspiring for me as I learned my way around. There was no possibility of navigating the entire campus without assistance. Carly and Fran both stepped up to the plate and provided the needed support. Mom and Dad gave Fran a car so that she could transport me to my various therapy appointments and help my transition to self-reliance and freedom. It turns out that Fran’s car was a blessing for me because I didn’t have to find alternate transportation. Although it would have been doable, it was certainly more effort than I was prepared to endure in my first few months on campus.

  UW had just about everything from an observatory to a waterfront activity center. When I wanted to enjoy the fresh air and beautiful panoramic view, I would make my way to the Rainier Vista at Drumheller Fountain. On those rare days of sunshine, Rainier Mountain would peek through clouds in all its glory. I didn’t think there was a view more beautiful than that in the whole world. The ever-elusive mountain was a sight for the gods. The buildings surrounding the fountain were equally impressive and reminded me of something out of a gothic romance novel—massive, ornate brick structures towering above the campus like the gods on Mount Olympus.

  Carly would join me sometimes when I went to meditate in front of the fountain. She would sit on one of the benches and just hold my hand. As she lifted her head up to the sky and soaked in the sun, I absorbed her beauty into the pores of my soul.

  I fell into a comfortable rhythm like the oars of the crew rowers, which were always in perfect sync.
At first, some of my classes were awkward as I got used to my assistive devices.

  I preferred writing on my tablet or laptop, but the text to speech software and technology would come in handy when the professors expected me to participate in class discussions. Some of the professors were better than others at pulling me into the dialogue. Of course, the big lecture halls afforded me the opportunity to fade into the background. I never needed my adaptive technology for those classes other than the ability to tape the lectures and receive their power points electronically to prepare for the exams.

  All of these little pearls of wisdom I learned within the first week of classes and this helped to cement my routines.

  †

  Carly had an early class every day, so never joined me in my daily workout. On the second week of classes, I made my way down to the fitness center. I struggled with opening the door and rolling in until I looked up to see Quinn’s megawatt smile.

  Quinn had a quick smile and a gentle nature despite her physical presence, which was overwhelming. Most people would describe Quinn as handsome. She had a strong jawline, bright blue eyes, and a full generous mouth. Although she was not at all feminine, she definitely did not look like a man. She stood taller than six feet and had arms the size of a small tree trunk.

  Quinn put most of the guys to shame with her ability to bench press more than her weight. She was the first person outside of Carly who befriended me, despite my disability. She wasn’t much of a talker either, so the fact that I didn’t speak made absolutely no difference to her. The first time I met her she probably exhausted more words than normal for her everyday interactions. She wasn’t mute, but probably gestured nearly as much as I did. It was like it took too much of her effort to form complete sentences. She was a woman of very few words and I liked that about her. I suppose I developed a crush on her because she was nice to look at and she was a beautiful spirit like Carly. Of course I didn’t love her like I loved Carly, but she did grab my attention.

  At first, all the jocks would stare at me or try to avoid looking at me, but eventually I gained their respect and many of them took me under their wing when Quinn wasn’t there, which wasn’t often. The guys showed me different exercises I could do to further my progress. I gained a few brothers that first year in the fitness center.

 

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