by Pardo, Jody
“What about when you go out?”
She grinned. “Where am I going?”
“I don’t know. Out with your girlfriends?” I saw sadness creep across her face.
“I haven’t been out in a long time. My friends are all back in Pennsylvania.” The doorbell rang, and she snapped from her gloom.
I checked the alarm clock, clicked it off, and grabbed my phone. It was almost 4:00 pm. “Who is it Lyds?”
“Trick or Treaters, Ryan…and so it begins. School’s Out!”
I grabbed my pull-up bar, transferred quickly to my house chair, and joined Lydia at the front door. There with their treat sacks in hand were a pirate, Ironman, Superman, some Japanese Pokemon-like thing and a little princess. I guess this was what I missed at sea. They were cute. The little princess in the light blue ball gown with a little tiara on her head ducked behind Superman. Yeah, I guess I was pretty scary to a little girl.
I looked up at Lydia and put my arms out for the bowl of candy. I put it on my lap and rolled in front of Lydia, centered in the doorway.
“Hello there, Little Princess. Ladies first, go ahead and pick your favorite.” And I held out the bowl. She ducked further behind Superman’s cape. “It’s okay, I don’t bite.”
“What are you supposed to be?” she squeaked as she poked her head just past Superman’s cape.
Crap. I must look scary. I should have shaved. I didn’t even think about a costume.
“Well Princess, you are our first trick-or-treaters. I didn’t know what time you guys would start coming for treats. I didn’t put my costume on yet.”
“Whatcha gonna be Mr. Ryan?” Ironman piped up.
Is that Dougie’s kid? I couldn’t tell behind that silly helmet but it sound like the little guy.
“Dougie, is that you under there?” I asked Ironman.
Slowly, he lifted his helmet and grinned.
“Sssssshh, Mr. Ryan. Don’t tell nobody.”
“Okay, it’s our secret. So I will make you guys a deal.” Princess must have thought I was kind of okay because she wasn’t fully hiding behind Superman quite so much anymore.
“What kind of deal Mr. Ryan?” I guessed Dougie was the ringleader of this mini crew. They all nodded questioningly.
“I will keep your secret identities and let you get first dibs on treats, but you have to help me get rid of the 350 pounds of candy Miss Lydia bought or I am going to get super fat. Then, I won’t need this wheelchair because I’m going to be so round, I will just roll around everywhere.” They all looked at each other and the Princess let a giggle escape.
“What’s so funny, Princess?”
“You’re not fat, Mr. Ryan!” she said in a squeaky voice.
“Not yet! So you gotta tell all your friends not to miss my house and I promise I will have my costume on later and you guys can come back and get a second round of treats. How’s that sound? We got a deal?”
Resounding smiles and nods all around sealed our deal and five little hands dove into the candy bowl before they took off running to spread the word.
Dougie yelled behind him, “See ya later, Mr. Ryan! Thanks!”
I rolled back away from the entrance and Lydia closed the door.
Now what, you idiot.
“You’re going to dress up? Seriously?” Lydia asked with her hands on her hips and a raised eyebrow. Good Lord, she looked so sexy in my clothes, and her nipples were still hard.
Focus Ryan. Focus.
“I guess…” Well, I’d made Lydia into a fisherman. I needed a costume. “I have an idea, but I am going to need your help, Lyds.”
“Sure, what do you need?”
“I need you to roll me to my shed out back. It's kind of rough because it’s not paved.” Who knew what disaster awaited in my garage? I knew it was definitely not safe wheeling through there at the moment.
“Okay. Like right now?”
“Yeah, now! How long do you think it’s going to take Dougie’s crew to let every kid in town know you are handing out full-size Snickers and Starburst candies and not those Dum-Dums and Smarties? We don’t have much time!”
She grabbed the back of my chair and wheeled me out the front door, barely pausing or slowing down and gave me one helluva ride down the ramp, nearly tossing me on my side. It was a good thing I was strapped into my chair; as eager as I was to get to the shed, we didn’t need any accidents to ruin our day. After we traversed the driveway, I thought thank goodness it hasn’t rained. This would have been one muddy mess and nearly impossible to trek across in my chair. It’s been dry these past few weeks as the leaves fell off the trees and collected against the siding of the house. The ground seemed pretty firm and Lydia hit a few divots, kneeing me in the back in the process, but I didn’t dare complain.
At she pushed me through the divots of grass, her sweet tits pressed against the back of my head. I felt kind of sad my brief ride was over because my pillows were gone. Once we reached the shed, I scooted forward, grabbed the combination lock, and swiveled to the number 3565 to unlock my shed.
“3565?” she asked looking over my shoulder.
“My Captain’s license number.” She nodded slowly in acknowledgment.
I pushed myself back so she could swing the double door open and I just hoped nothing fell on her head. Lord knew who exactly was responsible for the packing of the shed after the accident. My crew recovered whatever was salvageable and put it all in the shed and garage.
“Slowly, Lyds, I have no idea what Pandora’s box is behind those doors.” She slowly opened the doors and thank goodness nothing came crashing down on her head. I saw what I wanted right away and began to grab a few things. I pulled down a large lobster trap, a buoy, some netting, and my BBQ chef gear.
“What’s all this?” Lydia asked. I kept forgetting she was from a landlocked state and probably had no idea what she was looking at. “You had a dog?” she questioned further.
“A dog? No, never. Where did that come from?”
“Then why do you have a dog crate?” Bingo! She had no clue.
“Lyds, this is a lobster trap not a dog crate. You are my fisherman and I am gonna be the lobster for a change.” With that, I donned my lobster claw oven mitts and grabbed her ass. Yeah, I did. I had to. What a perfect opportunity. I didn’t even get smacked. Just a squeak and a smile. Ryan, for the win!
I took off the mitts and grabbed the buoy, the netting and my apron with the lobster body on it and threw it all inside the trap and put it in my lap. Lydia locked the shed back up. “Just roll the dials and give it a yank please.” She followed my direction and wheeled the cargo and me back toward the house. “Let’s go fix ourselves a lobster!”
Once back inside, in thirty minutes flat, I made a few snips, removed the inner ramps and one side off the trap. I fastened it to the armrests on my chair to brace it up. I put on my lobster apron and hung the buoys off the side of my chair then draped the netting all around, being careful to avoid the wheels. “VOILA! Lobster in a trap!”
“Wow, that’s awesome!” Lydia squealed in delight as I donned my lobster claws once more.
“I will tell you what else is awesome. Come here.” She started walking toward me when the doorbell interrupted us again.
Damn kids. I wanted a handful of ass again.
“Game on.” I rolled over to the front door where Lydia awaited with the candy trough. We opened it to a ramp full of what looked like the entire second grade yelling, “Trick or Treat!”
For the next four and a half hours, the house was a steady stream of endless mobs making their rounds. It was a pretty warm night and I just sat by the door at the top of the ramp and waited as I watched the droves of witches, vampires, superheroes, princesses, and other creatures go door to door in search of treats.
Eastport had set a curfew for the kids. They needed to be home and the residents could go about their evening undisturbed.
Even though there was still a shit ton of candy, I think I was safe from infla
ting to beach ball proportions. It was a lot of fun. The kids were cute in their outfits.
It was getting late, and I felt pumped. I’m not sure if it was the sugar or adrenaline, but I definitely needed to blow off some steam. Lydia was still here. It was way past her quitting time, and I didn’t want the day to end.
“Hey, Lyds?” I asked as she picked up my trail of peanut butter cup wrappers and I stared at her ass in my jeans.
“Yeah Ryan?”
“Wanna go out to the Rose Garden?”
She stopped picking up and looked up at me. “The bar?” she asked in a shocked tone.
“Yeah, the bar. That’s the only Rose Garden I know of in Eastport.” I chuckled.
She seemed to ponder this over.
“They have a Halloween bash there every year. We are already dressed. Unless you are tired, I understand.”
“Why not? Like you said, we are dressed. It would be a shame to let your awesome costume go to waste. How are we going to do this?”
I thought about it and grabbed a handful of new zip ties. “I have plenty. We can re-attach this when we get there. My chair should fit in the back of your SUV, unless you have been shopping again?”
“Nope, the back is empty,” she said.
“You ready?”
“Yeah, I have all my stuff together.”
“Okay then, let me use my bathroom since I don’t know if theirs will be cripple friendly.” Her face contorted in a grimace.
“What?” I asked.
“Why do you have to say stuff like that?” Here we go.
“What? Cripple? Why does that upset you? It doesn’t bother me. It’s the truth.”
“It’s just not a nice word, Ryan.”
“For who? Not me! I’m the one in the chair. Come here.” I could see she was visibly upset, and this wasn’t how I wanted the evening to go. She shuffled over to me with her head down. I pulled her towards me.
“I’m sorry if that word upsets you. Handicapped just sounds like a bathroom sign. Disabled sounds even worse, like I am out of commission. If you think of a better word, you tell me, and I will use it, okay?” She simply nodded, and I needed to bring the lighthearted mood back. Even if we didn’t go out, I didn’t want to see her this way.
“Hey, look at me. Come here. Sit down, please?” I patted my legs so there was no misunderstanding where I wanted her. She slowly sat down on my lap and looked up through her lashes and I lost all train of thought. I resisted the urge to kiss her and simply smoothed her hair out of her face and curled it behind her ears. “Let’s go get a drink, okay? Maybe we will make it in time for the costume contest. My friend Pedro said back in rehab that no one could lose to a crip…I mean, a man in a wheelchair. So let’s go win something.”
The smile returned to her face, and she climbed off me and grabbed her big zebra purse and car keys. I used the bathroom and met her by the door. “You ready, Mr. Gannon?”
“Let’s go!”
I was finally getting out of the house, besides routine doctor’s appointments and clinic visits. I had a beautiful woman next to me in a car, not in the back of an ambulance. My upper body strength was in my favor as I found the handle above the door to pull up on. Thank God it didn’t fold down, and it was straight affixed to the frame.
Since she had an SUV, it also had a handle on the dash. Although I doubted Lydia was doing any off-road maneuvers, in this case it worked in my favor. As I pulled up on the handle of the frame and grabbed onto the glove box handle, it provided the extra handhold I needed and I slid into the passenger seat.
Lydia pulled my memory foam seat off and tossed it in the backseat then folded and hoisted my chair into the trunk hatch. I felt like an ass just sitting there while Lydia had to lift my chair. My ego was taking a serious hit on this one.
When Lydia climbed into the driver’s seat, my spirit was renewed by her smile. I didn’t want to be her burden, but she smiled from ear to ear.
“What are you smiling about?”
“I am just amazed at how you climb in and around stuff. You are like a spider monkey.” She said with a giggle as she turned the key in the ignition.
I simply shrugged and said, “I have been practicing.”
“I can see that!” she shook her head as we pulled out of the driveway and made the short drive to the Rose Garden.
The place was as I remembered it. Nothing really changed too much in town. Lydia parked then hopped out to set up my wheelchair and then reality struck me. This was a far drop. I quickly tried to think of a game plan.
“Hey, Lyds. How far does this seat go back?”
“Pretty far, why, what’s up?” she asked looking worried.
“I don’t have a lower grip so I need to slide down or it’s going to be a rough, hard, and possibly not so good landing.”
“Oh! Yeah let’s do the sliding thing then. Hold on.” She reached between my legs and grabbed the seat lever and sent the seat sliding back. Perfect. I slid off the seat into the wide-open floor well.
Dangling my legs, now I just had to stick the swivel and landing. “Lydia, now do me a favor and bring my chair over here and just hold my feet together, please?” She positioned my chair flush against the door and locked the wheels before coming to my right and holding my feet together.
“All you have to do is hold them so that they stay together. Once I slide down, you can let go, okay?” I asked as she nodded and held onto my sneakers.
I slid down and pulled up with both arms on the door’s armrest and swiveled around. With the door guiding me, I sat down in my chair.
Not bad for a first run. Lydia fixed my feet in the foot pedals as I buckled in. She pulled out the lobster cage and I zip-tied it back in place on my chair. Donning my lobster claw mitts once more, I snapped them at her with a not so gentle threat of a pinch. I wouldn’t mind a handful of ass, but I didn’t want to push my luck.
“Let’s go get that drink.” I said excitedly. Lydia pushed me through the doors of the Rose Garden; stunned faces and a brief silence followed by thunderous welcomes resounded.
Al was the first to approach me, “Welcome back, Ryan. It’s good to see you out and about. Blue Moon?” he asked with a smirk.
Al poured a tall draft laced with extra oranges and kept it filled in front of me. I only drank three pints because for one, I don’t know how much my bladder could handle. Secondly, I didn’t want to be that drunk asshole in the wheelchair.
I had a nice buzz going on and as predicted, no one was going to lose to a guy in a wheelchair dressed as a lobster in a cage. We won over an 80’s glam rock band, a Tarzan and Jane couple, and the rest who entered in the couple/group category. I actually thought the rock band should have won just to recoup the investment in makeup and all the hairspray to pull off those hairdos. I didn’t feel so bad though because the lead singer entered the solo male category and won, then sang three songs in character. The prize was $100 gift card, but I gave it to Lydia. If it weren’t for her I wouldn’t be here at all. She deserved it for putting up with my ass every day.
Yeah, I didn’t need any more beer. Just the thought of Lydia’s ass made my dick hard. She only had one beer all night since she was driving, but she played pool with some of the deckhands and their girls. I tried not to watch because every time she bent over, my brain shorted out. Dougie was home for the weekend and we chatted it up before he headed for home to The Wife and I switched from beer to water. I really didn’t want any more liquid in me but it would help tame my buzz. I hadn’t had a drink in a long while.
After the crowd started to thin, we headed for home. I climbed back into the SUV, as I did before, and buckled in. Lydia stowed my trap and wheelchair, then took her place behind the wheel.
She started it up and turned to me smiling before pulling out of the spot. “Did you have a good time?” she asked.
“I had a great time and I couldn’t have had better company. Thank you, Lydia. You don’t know how much you mean to me.” She blushed and
turned away before shifting the car into gear. When her arm returned to the console, I took her hand in mine, interlaced our fingers, and gave her hand a squeeze. She allowed me to hold her hand during the drive home.
Ryan
My face felt itchy, like a dog with fleas. The weather was changing and my skin felt dry. I wish I knew what would stop this itch. I was willing to try anything. Calamine, hydrocortisone, butter, I would try anything and smear it on my face if this itch would just stop. Regular hand lotion just didn’t do the job and then my face ended up smelling like baby’s ass or a scented fruity concoction.
It was still early and I couldn’t wait for Lydia to get here so I could be put out of my itchy misery. I was starting to look a little like a caveman with a full beard growing in. It was at that stage where you had to shave or do some man grooming. Why was it when I had an itch, it wanted to run all over the place? It started with my beard and just when I thought the itch was sated, another place lower would get itchy.
With both hands, I scratched at my face in an effort to relieve it, and then it ran down the side and to the back of my neck. I grabbed a hairbrush from the console in the couch and reached around to scratch my neck. Then it was racing down my back. I was so itchy. I pulled my shirt off and started scratching my back with the boar’s hair bristle brush trying to bring myself some relief. Mmmmm, oooooh yeah, stay still dammit, oooooh. As I scratched myself stupid, Lydia walked in the front door.
“Ryan, I’m here I stopped off at Waco for…what the hell?” Lydia stared at me with her iced coffee in one hand and her big zebra purse in the other. I guessed I was a sight to see scrubbing my back with a hairbrush.
“Hey Lyds. Come here. Let me see your hands.” She still had a confused look on her face but put down her stuff and headed toward me with her hands outstretched in front of her.
“What’s going on Ryan?” I looked at her hands; she had short fingernails but just enough length to get a scratch on.
“Can you please scratch my back? The damn itch is running!” I leaned forward as she stepped around behind me with curled fingers.