Caterpillars Can't Swim

by Liane Shaw

  “Shady what?” Jack asks. “Your friend lives somewhere shady?”

  “About that…” I start.

  “We aren’t going to Jacob’s house with his mommy and daddy because we aren’t twelve, and this is a road trip. I booked us a motel,” Cody finishes. Jack looks at Cody and just nods.

  “Okay. My mom just texted me and I told her we’re fine and heading out for the night. She’ll never know the difference. That’s good enough.”

  I look from him to Cody in surprise. Cody grins and starts to whistle as he makes his way over to our car. Jack has the job of helping me across the grass again, and I keep waiting for him to say something, but there’s nothing. He has no problem with it. I was so sure he’d be upset that I’ve been hiding it for weeks and worrying about it most of the day. And all he says is “okay”?

  Cody’s right. I am acting like my mother. This seriously needs to stop.

  We have to move to the side and wait for a while so that Cody can back the car up long enough for me to get loaded back in. The place is pretty much deserted by the time we’re able to do that, and it’s getting really dark.

  “We need to stop for some food on the way. I already have some drinks but we might want more than just the beer. I’m not sure how good the water is going to be in this place,” Cody says.

  “Sounds like a nice place,” Jack says from the back seat. Cody laughs.

  “Yup. It’s the fanciest motel in town—so the website says.”

  We drive ten minutes to the outskirts of the city, stopping along the way so that Cody can run in and grab food and pop at a small grocery store. He settles back down in the car, tossing a bag into the back seat, filled with what looks like enough junk food to make my mother write an entire lecture series on the evils of eating garbage.

  “There it is,” he says as a low building comes into sight with a big neon sign that says SHA RES OTEL.

  “I think there are some letters missing,” Jack says, stating the obvious.

  “Looks fancy to me,” I tell Cody. I can see a pool at the front, with a few sad-looking lawn chairs sprinkled around it, but it doesn’t seem to have any water in it.

  That might be a good thing.

  “I’ll run in and get our key. I got two double beds and a cot thing. Should be cool.” Cody parks in front of the door marked FRONT OFFICE and bounces in. He’s back in a couple of minutes, gets back into the car, and drives down to park in front of number 19.

  He brings me my chair and helps me transfer, and then we grab our bags. He unlocks the door, and we head in.

  I can just make out two beds and a cot that pretty much fill the entire room. There’s a small TV on a dresser in front of one of the beds. It’s hotter than our classrooms on the hottest day of the year and smells just as bad.

  “Ta-dah!” Cody flings his bags onto the nearest bed as he turns on the lights. In the glare of the bare bulbs, it looks pretty much the way it smells.

  “Nice,” I say, trying to sound positive. I definitely think we’ll avoid drinking the water.

  “Yeah, really nice,” Jack says. “I’ll take the cot.” He obviously got a good look at those beds. I’m not sure who slept there last, but whoever it was left an impression.

  I put my bag down on the floor and head for the bathroom.

  “Um, Cody?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you mention to the front desk that I’m in a chair?”

  He looks over from where he’s fiddling with the TV. “No. I forgot all about it. Was I supposed to tell them?”

  “Well, it might have been a good idea. I can’t get into the bathroom. I’d really rather not have to be lifted in and out. You’d probably drop me on the floor.”

  “Oh. Shit. Well, then. I guess I’d better talk to them, see if there’s another room with a wider door. Be right back.” He smiles cheerfully, as if it’s no big deal that I literally can’t go to the bathroom by myself, and heads out the door.

  Jack sits on the one wooden chair, shaking his head.

  “So, this is better than your friend’s place how?” he asks.

  “It’s all about independence and drinking beer, I think. Although, at this moment, I’m not so sure independence is the right word, seeing as I’m going to need help getting into the bathroom if we can’t find another room.”

  “So…Cody is your best friend?”

  “Yup. Since grade school.”

  “But he forgot about your chair?”

  “Yeah. Not exactly forgot. He knows it’s there, but a lot of the time he just doesn’t think about it. Could be why he’s my best friend.”

  Jack looks like he wants to ask another question, but instead, he takes over trying to get some reception on the TV. Cody comes back a couple of minutes later, grinning from ear to ear.

  “So, because they forgot that I told them you’re handicapped and everything, they decided to upgrade us to the Superior Room, which is fully accessible…and they’re not charging us anything extra for it. Room 26.” He grabs his bag, spins around, and heads back out the door. Jack and I grab our stuff and follow him.

  “You guys walk down. Here’s the key. I’ll bring the car.”

  “I doubt the Superior Room is much better than this one,” he says, as he starts walking down the pathway.

  “No, but if it means I can piss on my own, it’s all good.”

  “Yeah, I can understand that.”

  It takes about twenty seconds to find the Superior Room. Cody is already there, of course. He comes to the door and invites us in like some kind of doorman at a fancy hotel.

  “Here you’ll find the couch. Yes, boys, we have a couch. A fold-out couch, no less. With a little table in front of it. And over here there’s a TV that’s actually working and big enough to watch a movie on. And down here is a fridge, which is good because the beer has been in my car all day and is a little warmer than I like it. Oh, and best of all…Ryan, come with me.”

  He walks over to the end of the room, where a nice wide door leads into a bathroom that is actually big enough for me to turn around in. It even has a grab bar on the wall.

  “This is definitely superior.”

  “Right? This is perfect. I’m so glad you’re in a wheelchair!”

  He turns away and runs over to the beds, flinging himself down on one. Jack looks like he’s wondering why I don’t throw something in Cody’s face.

  “He doesn’t mean it like that,” I start to explain, but Cody interrupts.

  “I hate when you talk about me behind my back…especially when I’m lying right here. What didn’t I mean?”

  “You didn’t mean you’re actually glad I can’t walk.” He sits up and looks at me, kind of staring at my legs like he just noticed them and figured out why I sit in this chair.

  “Of course not. I know it sucks to be you. But it comes in handy sometimes.”

  “Cody!” Jack says, sounding shocked.

  “Cody what? What’s your problem? Ryan doesn’t mind it. If he’s cool with being in the chair, why’re you all bent out of shape about it?”

  “Well, I’m not always exactly cool with being in the chair,” I tell him. He looks confused.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, sometimes I really wish like hell I could just jump out of this damn thing and run down the street. I wish I didn’t wear braces and that my legs and feet weren’t all spazzed out all the time so that they hurt and make it impossible for me to stand on them.” The words spill out of my mouth, surprising all three of us.

  “Hey, man. Sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you. I didn’t know you felt like that. I mean, I figured you’ve always been in the chair so you’re used to it or whatever.”

  “I am used to it. I don’t cry every morning because I have to go in it. This is my life and I totally accept that. But it do
esn’t mean I don’t feel like I’m missing out on something at the same time.”

  Jack’s big eyes stare as if he’s trying to memorize everything I say. Cody, on the other hand, is looking at the ceiling with his eyes half shut. I don’t even know if he heard me or not.

  I know Cody wasn’t trying to piss me off. He’s the one person outside of my family who I can always trust to treat me like everybody else. I’m not sure why I thought he needed a lecture from me. Maybe meeting Clare today has made me hypersensitive or something.

  We’re quiet for a minute, then Cody rolls off the bed and stands up. “I put three of the beers in the little freezer deal at the top of the fridge. Should be cold enough to drink by now. I think it’s time to have one and find something brainless to watch on TV.” He heads to the fridge, stopping for just a second to punch me lightly on the arm when we make eye contact.

  “Okay, one for you!” He throws a lukewarm can into my lap.

  “One for you.” He hands the second one to Jack. “And one for me. Now I’ll put the other three in here. Sucks that I could only grab six. My brother is freakishly obsessed with keeping track of his booze. I had to sneak these out one at a time when his drinking friends were over so he wouldn’t notice.”

  “I’m good with just one. Actually, I’m fine with pop,” Jack says, looking at the warm can in his hand.

  “No. It’s fine. Come on, drink up.” Cody opens his can and tips it back, draining half of it with one go. I open mine and take a swig. I like a cold beer once in a while, when my mother is nowhere close by, but this is not cold beer. This is warm beer. It tastes gross, but I’m going to drink it anyway because it seems to mean a lot to Cody. I grab a handful of chips out of the bag Jack opened, shove them in my mouth, and wash them down with the beer. The combination isn’t bad.

  I wave to Jack and show him my trick, pointing at the chip bag and then the beer can. He nods and grins, grabbing some chips and then drinking some beer. He does it too fast and starts choking.

  “What are you doing?” Cody asks him, turning away from the TV long enough to notice the coughing and the spewing of chips.

  “He seems to be choking,” I tell him. “You could do something.”

  “He’s just coughing. It’s different. You remember lifesaving classes? Oh, right, of course you do.” He shakes his head and walks over to Jack, smacking him on the back a few times, increasing the force of each hit until Jack pushes his hand away in self defense.

  “I’m fine,” he gasps. “Just swallowed the wrong way.”

  “Good because it would suck if you died right here. Then we’d get in all kinds of shit because we’re supposed to be at some guy’s house, right?”

  Jack looks at him, tears streaming down his face as he tries to get his throat working again.

  “Cody, you are such an ass!” I can’t believe he would say something like that to Jack.

  “What are you talking about? I said it’s good he didn’t die. Seriously Ryan, you need to calm down. First you have a total freak fit because the guy went for a walk and now you’re upset because I said the word died in front of him. If you’re so worried, why’d you bring him in the first place?”

  Twenty-Two

  The room goes silent except for the background noise coming from the TV. Cody is glaring at me. I’m glaring at him. Jack is glaring at me.

  Two against one.

  “I thought you said it was fine. That you weren’t worried when you couldn’t find me. That’s what you said.” Jack’s eyes are getting into black hole territory.

  Shit and double shit.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to know I was acting stupid. You didn’t answer your phone when I called, and I just thought maybe you were upset because we were ignoring you, and I guess I was a bit…panicky looking for you. I did not freak!” I’m still glaring at Cody even though I’m talking to Jack.

  “Yeah, you did.” Cody is obviously tired of the glaring game and is back to concentrating on TV.

  “I didn’t answer my phone because I was talking to someone and didn’t think it was a big deal, seeing as the person calling wasn’t my mom.”

  “Nope, it was just someone acting like your mom,” Cody says helpfully as he shoves a handful of chips in his mouth. If I could reach something worth throwing at him, I would.

  “Well I already have a mom who worries about me all the time and doesn’t understand anything about me. I don’t need you doing that shit too. I thought you were my friend. Or at least someone who treats me like a normal person.”

  Jack shakes his head and takes a swig of his beer, making a face as it goes down. “Tastes like warm piss,” he says.

  Cody laughs, spraying chips all over the bed. “When did you ever drink warm piss?”

  “Very funny.” Jack grabs his own handful and starts chewing, still glaring at me with seriously angry eyes. I clear my throat, hoping to loosen up a few words that won’t make him angrier.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted like that. I guess since I invited you, I felt…responsible or something.”

  Jack swallows and wipes his hand across his mouth.

  “I’m responsible for myself. You don’t need to take care of me.”

  “Except when you’re drowning in the river,” Cody says, never taking his eyes off the TV. “Then he kinda needs to take care of you. You seriously can’t swim?”

  “Not really. I’ve always hated it so I never really tried to learn.” Jack answers the question while ignoring the first part of what Cody said.

  “I can’t imagine hating the water! I’ve always loved it. If you hate it, why the hell would you pick drowning as the way to go?”

  “Cody!” I yell, but he ignores me.

  “I didn’t pick it. It just kind of happened.” Jack’s voice is softer and lower, dipping down into the danger zone.

  “You just kind of walked into the river and almost drowned until the hero of the century rolled in on top of you. That sounds a bit like bullshit to me. Sounds like you were trying to off yourself, like everyone says. Is it because you’re gay?” Cody is still looking at the TV, as if the things he’s saying are casual comments that don’t need his full attention.

  Jack looks over at me, long enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I’m wondering if he wants me to say something to shut Cody up or if he just wants everyone to shut themselves up. After what seems like forever, he finally takes a deep breath and turns his eyes back to Cody.

  “Not because I’m gay. Because I’m gay in a town where no one wants anyone to be anything different from everyone else, and I can’t even tell my own mother who I am because she would never understand and would probably kick me out!”

  Cody finally turns away from the TV and looks directly at Jack. I just sit there with my mouth hanging open at the shock of hearing Jack admit he’s gay to Cody. I can’t believe he did that.

  “Your mother wouldn’t kick you out. I do all kinds of crap my mother hates, but she would never kick me out. Not for more than an hour or two anyway.”

  “This is different. This is not me doing something she doesn’t like. This is my whole life. Myself. Who I am. Which most people in our town think is something dirty or gross. Including you, by the way.”

  Cody sits with his mouth shut for a while before answering.

  “I don’t know if being gay is gross or dirty. Most guys I know do think it would be gross to have some other guy hit on them. I guess that includes me because I told Ryan I was worried you would hit on me.” Cody looks pretty uncomfortable.

  “Don’t worry. You’re not my type.”

  Cody seems surprised and a little offended. I accidentally start laughing but try to cover it up with a cough.

  “So, you like guys and I like girls. I guess it isn’t really that big a deal.” Cody doesn’t look convinced by his ow
n words, but I’m guessing his brain is going to end up burying itself if he has to think any more deeply about this.

  “Except no one tries to beat the shit out of you for liking girls.” Jack’s voice is bitter.

  “Well, that depends on what girl I’m liking. Sometimes boyfriends, dads, or brothers aren’t too happy with me.”

  “Cody. It’s not the same,” I finally interrupt the conversation that I never expected these two guys to have.

  “Now, here’s a whole different example,” Cody says, neatly changing direction as he gestures toward me with both hands. “This here is a guy who likes girls but never actually talks to any. So he is one of the last virgins at our high school because he’s the world’s biggest chickenshit when it comes to the female of the species.”

  “Shut up, Cody!” I grab a pillow and throw it at his face. “You don’t understand anything. You have no idea what it’s like trying to find a girl to like me when I’m sitting in this chair.”

  Cody has no idea why I’m a virgin. I mean, aside from the fact that I’ve never had an actual girlfriend. The truth is I am scared shitless of getting intimate with someone. What would happen if I finally found someone who wanted to sleep with me and my legs decided to spaz out at some significant moment? And I’m scared that if I’m worrying about spazzing out, I won’t be able to do anything else right, and she’ll be upset with me…or worse, laugh at me. What if I’m just a big joke in bed?

  Besides, I seem to have enough trouble finding someone to date, let alone sleep with. I’m fairly certain that Clare is the first girl I’ve ever met who didn’t look at my chair first and my face second. It’s always been pretty obvious that most girls are uncomfortable with the idea of dating a guy in a chair.

  Cody interrupts my self-pity fest with a disgusted snort.

  “You use that chair like a crutch.”

  “What? That doesn’t even make sense!”

  “I mean, you use it as an excuse. Lots of guys are scared of screwing up when they meet a pretty face. Not me, of course, but lots of other guys have to figure out how to get girls to like them. You just need some confidence in yourself. Eventually you’ll find someone who doesn’t mind the chair or your ugly orange hair.” He messes up my hair and I smack his hand away. Hard.