The Chair By ParaGirl
Tara found the chair at a yard sale, of all places. It was
black, a lightweight little thing, and aside from all the dust
and the fact that it was missing the coverings on the hack
handles, and also had a flat tire, it was perfect. She almost
fainted when the old woman said 'take it', before Tara had even
asked. She wasn't going to hang around to wait for a change of
mind, she took the chair with sweaty palms and drove back to her
apartment.
It took her several days to clean it up and find the tire
and handles, but in less than a week Tara had an excellent
looking wheelchair, black and shiny. She had always been
fascinated by wheelchair users, especially females, and had
always wanted to experience being in one, to have no control of
her legs at all. It was irrational, she knew, but it fascinated
her anyway, which is why she took the chair. She was so
excited, she hadn't even sat in it yet, she'd decided to wait
for the perfect time, a day alone in her apartment, to really
get the feel for it. That day was tomorrow, Saturday, and when
she woke up in the morning, the chair would be by the side of
the bed, ready for her to get in. She got ready for bed and
parked her new toy within easy reach for the morning.
She awoke at eight feeling rested and excited. She peered
over and saw her wheelchair sitting there, awaiting it's
passenger. She threw the covers off and sat up, determined not
to rush into it, determined not to use her legs at all, to
really experience the helplessness of being paralyzed. She
reached over and pulled the chair right up to the edge of the
bed, then lifted one leg over the side with her hands, like she
had imagined doing so many times. She lifted her other leg over
and placed it near it's twin. With the wheelchair locked in
place, Tara gripped the far wheel with one hand and supported
herself with the other on the bed. With one rather clumsy
movement she slid herself into the seat of the chair. As soon
as she was seated, a feeling of dizziness came over her for an
instant, and was gone, so she almost didn't notice it. She used
her hands to put her legs into the legrests of the wheelchair
and then, still dressed in the long nightshirt and socks she had
slept in, wheeled herself into the kitchen to eat breakfast.
Being in the wheelchair was great! Rolling so easily
about, she did a lap around the apartment and into the bathroom
first to see herself in the mirror. There she was, young, only
25, and as far as she was concerned, very pretty. She saw
herself in the wheelchair, and realized her legs actually looked
kind of paralyzed, they looked thinner in the chair. It was
probably her imagination, she decided, from the excitement of
actually being in the chair. She wheeled out of the bathroom
and into the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal.
In the kitchen, she grabbed the milk from the fridge with
no problem, then took a bowl from the counter before realizing
that the cereal was in the top cabinet. Oh well, she thought,
so much for being paralyzed all day. She Decided that her bowl
of Count Chocula was a higher priority than her game and went to
get up to get the cereal box. As she went to get up she cried
out and fell out of the wheelchair onto the kitchen floor.
"What the-" she said, then realized why she fell. Her legs
hadn't done what she told them to! She looked to see her legs
folded behind her, one foot at kind of and odd angle still on
the wheelchair footrest. She realized it didn't hurt, and then
realized that she couldn't feel her foot. She couldn't feel
either of her feet! She couldn't move her legs at all, and from
her ankles down she couldn't feel them! Tara was frightened
and confused, she couldn't understand how or why this had
happened, but she had to do something, and laying on the floor
wasn't going to help at all.
Tara decided that she had to get back into her wheelchair
if she was going to get help or figure out what was going on.
She pushed herself up to sitting and dragged herself beside her
wheelchair, a chair which, by some strange twist of fate, she
now required to get around. She locked the brakes and started
to drag herself up into the chair. It was difficult, and she
almost tipped over twice before she got up to the seat and
turned to sit. She looked down and saw her legs twisted and
hanging limply off the side of the chair and couldn't believe
it! She was paralyzed, her legs refusing to work in any way.
She lifted her legs into the legrests with her hands and
suddenly realized that her legs were now numb almost to her
knees! She was losing feeling in her legs at an alarming rate!
How far would it go, how high would the paralysis take hold, and
why?
She wheeled herself to the phone, but who could she call?
A girl in a wheelchair saying she couldn't walk would sound
strange, but she had to do something. As she sat by the phone
it began to ring. She lifted the receiver to hear a strange
voice on the other end.
"You are now what you wanted to be Tara, isn't that right?"
"No-, yes-, I don't know, who are you, why is this
happening?!"
"You used the chair of your own free will, and with that
act have given up your legs, as you have wanted for so long."
"But I didn't know, I can't move my legs, can't feel them,
why is this happening? I want my legs back!"
"There is a way, Tara, but it will not be easy. You must
stay in the chair all day, your legs will not work for you today
at all. Live in the chair until you go to bed, then in the
morning when you awake, your legs will work again."
"That doesn't sound hard, that's all I have to do?"
"That is all, but you do not know all the facts. You have
to make a choice upon waking. If you get up and stand, the
spell is broken and you will walk again as if nothing had
happened. If you get into the chair again, you forfeit the
power of walking forever."
"I still don't see the difficulty in that, I'll simply
stand when I wake up, and that's that."
"But you don't understand, the spell of the chair is
twofold. If you wake up in the morning and stand, Tara, the
world will be as if nothing had happened. But if you get back
into the chair the spell will be complete. You will be
paralyzed, from the waist down, never to walk again, that is
true, but there is more. If you sit in that wheelchair, a girl
you don't know, a twelve year old girl in a town hundreds of
miles away who has been confined to a wheelchair since birth,
who has never taken a step in her life, will wake up healed,
able to run and skip and jump rope like any other girl. She
will get a new chance, a chance you had but decided you didn't
like. You've wanted to be handicapped for years, she never
did."
Tara was stunned. She hung up the phone and wheeled
herself into the bathroom to splash water on herself. She
looked in the mirror, still in the long nightshirt, sitting in
the shiny black wheelchair. Her legs were a little thinner, she
realized. By now she had lost feeling up to her thighs, and she
was realizing for the first time what it meant to be
handicapped. She felt a familiar tingle and realized she had to
pee. This was going to be interesting indeed. She wheeled up
to the toilet and sized up the challenge. It shouldn't be that
difficult, after all, just transferring from one chair into
another. She put one hand on the toilet and the other on the
wheel of the chair and clumsily slid over onto the seat. She
pulled her legs over and realized she still had her panties on,
and her long nightshirt was under her. This was going to be
trickier than she thought. She tugged at her nightshirt until
it was out from under her, but her panties were still on. She
tried tugging them down, but with no control of her lower body
she couldn't get them off without lifting herself. She put her
hands on the sides of the seat and boosted herself up an inch,
but then she didn't have a free hand to grab the underwear with.
She compromised and lifted herself on one side, sliding the
panties partially off with the other hand. She switched and did
the same to the other side, until she could slide them down her
now paralyzed legs. She just let them sit on the floor at her
feet. She realized she had bitten off alot more than she could
chew when she almost slipped into the bowl transferring back
into her chair! She wheeled back into the bedroom to figure out
how she was going to get dressed. She had already planned her
day's wardrobe for playing handicapped, now she would see how it
worked for real. First she lifted her left foot into her lap to
take her sock off. It was so strange seeing herself pull her
sock off a foot she could no longer feel or move. She dropped
her foot down, but it missed the footrest and thumped clumsily
to the floor. Tara winced but realized she couldn't feel it
even if it did hurt. She pulled her other sock off and tugged
off her nightshirt, leaving her naked in her wheelchair. She
felt helpless and vulnerable, scared at the predicament she
found herself in. She was paralyzed, handicapped, her legs
useless and lifeless. She knew that it was only temporary, all
she had to do was stand up tomorrow morning and never look at
the wheelchair again. But at what cost? Her mind wandered to
that little girl, sitting in a small, child sized wheelchair,
probably dressed in some little pink chiffon dress and pigtails.
She could heal this girl, give her a full, happy life. It was
her choice alone, all she had to do was stay trapped in this
wheelchair for the rest of her life. Yeah, tough choice.
She put on her bra, easy enough, and her blouse, there was
no problem there, but then she got to the tricky part. She
pulled a pair of panties from her drawer and stared first at the
panties then at her legs. She bent down with the panties and
pulled them over her feet, up to her knees. She got them as far
as where her thighs met her wheelchair's seat, then redid her
act in the bathroom, lifting herself one side at a time, pulling
the panties on. It was very difficult work, and she had no idea
how she was going to pull her skirt on when an Idea occurred to
her. She grabbed her skirt, a knee length cotton one she was
very fond of, and wheeled over to the bed. She put the skirt on
the bed, then locked the wheels of her chair. She transferred
out of her chair onto the bed, then pulled her legs up with her.
It was so strange, pulling the dead weight of her legs up, they
were totally numb and lifeless now, truly paralyzed. She laid
her legs out in front of her, then bending over put the skirt
over her feet, sliding it up her legs slowly. She laid down and
pulled the skirt all the way up, then tucked the blouse in as
well as she could. She zipped the skirt and sat back up.
Dressing complete, because she had already decided that shoes
and socks would be a waste anyway, she transferred back into
her wheelchair. She wheeled back into the kitchen to have some
breakfast, feeling she had finally calmed down enough to eat.
The bowl and milk were still out, but the cereal was still in
the top cupboard. She decided to have some toast and jam, and
pulled the jam from the lower cupboard. She'd have to remember
to have someone put all of the things in the upper cabinets into
the lower ones if she decided to stay like this. She couldn't
believe she was actually thinking about staying handicapped, but
the thoughts of that little girl haunted her, seeing little legs
playing hopscotch, jumping rope for the first time. She reached
for the bread, putting it in her lap and pulling out two slices,
then realized that from her wheelchair she couldn't reach the
toaster. She stretched and strained, but without the use of her
legs she couldn't reach it. She moaned and was about to give up
when an idea occurred to her. She was handicapped now, but why
should that stop her from doing anything, especially having
toast and jam! She went into her utensil drawer and pulled out
a long wooden spoon. With that she pulled the toaster to the
edge of the counter and put the toast in. She was thrilled at
her small accomplishment, and pulled one of the chairs away from
the table to make a place for herself. She buttered the toast
when it was done and spread the jam on it, really enjoying her
breakfast, because she actually had to work to make it. She
realized how different life was for her now, handicapped,
everything she would have to learn over again if she stayed like
this. She looked at herself, her crippled legs, her wheelchair,
trying to decide if she really wanted to stay this way, trying
to figure out what to tell her family, her friends, her
co-workers on Monday. 'Oh, yes, had a pretty good weekend
except for this paralysis thing.'
She finished her breakfast and decided to try doing some
chores. She grabbed her laundry basket and put it in her lap,
wheeling along and putting her dirty clothes into it. When it
was almost full she picked up her detergent and put that in the
basket as well. The laundry room was down the hall, so she had
to leave the apartment, something she was a little worried
about, but she did it anyway. Wheeling down the hall, she
almost dumped the whole basket over, but caught it in time, only
dropping a sock. When she got into the laundry room, a woman
Tara didn't know was just taking her clothes out of one of the
dryers. She looked at Tara and said hi in a friendly way, which
Tara returned. Tara opened the top-loader washer with a little
difficulty and put her clothes and detergent in, then shut the
lid and almost cried when she realized she couldn't reach the
washer controls from her wheelchair.
"You look like you could use some help there." the woman
taking her clothes out of the dryer said.
"Could you? I can't reach the controls." Tara almost
cried.
"I noticed. It's OK, what setting?"
"Permanent press."
"There you go. And for the dryer, use the one on the end,
it has front controls on it, should be easier for you. If you
don't mind me saying so, it must be so hard to get around here
in your wheelchair. So many stairs and narrow doors. Someone
should do something about it is what I think."
"Yes, you may be right about that." Tara replied. She put
her basket back onto her lap and wheeled back to her apartment,
realizing for the first time how narrow the doors were, seeing
the single step to the front door, a simple thing, but a massive
obstacle to her in her new condition. How could she ever live
as a cripple? She spent the rest of the afternoon trying to
clean her apartment. Her next big suprise came when she tried
to get the clothes out of the washer. They were easy to get in,
she just dropped them in, but she had to reach down into the
washer the get them out, something she didn't think she could
manage from her wheelchair, and this time no nice woman to help
her. Then she figured it out. The washers were about two feet
apart, maybe a little less, and at her wheelchair level, the
tops were shoulder height. She grabbed one washer with each
hand and boosted up onto the washer her clothes weren't in,
sitting on it. She was still amazed at how her legs just hung
there. She pulled her clothes out of the washer and tossed them
into the basket on the floor. She dropped back down into her
chair clumsily, having to rearrange her legs when she was
seated. She put her clothes in the end drier, as her newfound
friend had suggested, and started the drier, when she heard her
new friends voice again.
"I'm Barbara, by the way." Barbara was behind her, and
Tara had to wheel around to talk to her.
"Tara. I never thanked you for the help earlier, thanks."
"No problem. I was actually wondering how you were going
to get your clothes out, but it seems you managed fine."
"Yes, I manage where I need to." she said with false
modesty, inside brimming with pride and accomplishment.
"Well, if you need any help with anything Tara, I'm in
apartment 235."
"On the second floor, of course."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't even think Tara. Here's my
number, if you need me, call."
Tara laughed at how embarrassed Barbara looked and said
she's call if she needed it, wheeling back to her apartment.
Tara spent most of the rest of the day on the couch
watching TV. The couch was strange, she sat in it for a while,
but sitting in her familiar couch not being able to feel her
lower body at all drove her crazy, so she pulled her legs up
onto the couch and laid there, every once in a while looking
down at her useless legs. If she wasn't looking at them, it was
as if they weren't even there. Finally she got tired enough and
transferred back into her chair to get ready for bed.
She took off her shirt and bra, putting another nightshirt
on, then transferred into bed to remove her skirt. When she got
her skirt off she realized she again had to use the bathroom, so
she transferred back into her chair and wheeled to the toilet.
After her now familiar (this WAS her fourth time today) routine,
she was getting back into her chair when she slipped, falling to
the floor and knocking her wheelchair over. She was so tired of
this! To go through such and ordeal just to go to the
bathroom!! She put her wheelchair back upright and pulled
herself back into it, wheeling herself angrily back into her
bedroom and transferring into bed, pushing the cursed wheelchair
across the room for good measure. Tara had made her decision.
Barbara knocked on the door to see Tara in a way she didn't
expect at all. She was wearing a gray business suit and skirt,
dark, professional looking stockings and conservative flats, and
she was carrying a leather briefcase in her lap, seated in her
wheelchair with her legs crossed, all in all looking very
professional.
"I called because I'd like a ride over to the management
office of this complex. I have a few requests I'd like to make
to them."
"Of course, I'd be happy to help Tara."
Barbara followed Tara as she wheeled to the front door,
then helped her down the single step. She watched as Tara
transferred into her car, then put her wheelchair in the back
seat for her. In a minute they were off to the management
office, Tara with a list of handicapped-acessable requirements
for hers and other buildings. It was the first steps she would
take to make her new life as a handicapped woman something more
than her able-bodied life had been. And thinking back to just
hours before, waking up and feeling her legs, having them back
again, and then dropping out of bed onto the floor, careful not
to stand or use her legs to her advantage, crawling across the
room to her wheelchair, climbing into it and all of a sudden
feeling the numbness climb up her legs, much quicker this time
than yesterday, until in only minutes she was again paralyzed
completely, handicapped, crippled for life this time, and this
time by her own choosing. She just hoped it was worth it, she
really did.
"Mommy mommy!" was the first thing Lisa Morrison heard
that morning, getting up to go help Laura into her wheelchair,
or get her water, or whatever it was she needed. Lisa had cared
for Laura since birth, and sometimes it was just too much,
sometimes she wondered why her little girl had to be born
crippled. She almost fainted when she was greeted in the
hallway not by a request from Laura, but her daughter herself,
running towards her, on her own two legs! She picked up her
little daughter and squeezed her and cried 'A miracle, A
miracle!"
Cindy found the aluminum forearm crutches and AFO braces at
a yard sale, of all places. She was running a finger down the
smooth aluminum when the old woman running the sale said to her,
'Go ahead, take them.' She left with the crutches and braces
under her arm, and she couldn't wait to get to her house and try
them out.
The End?
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
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This has been one of my favorite's since I first read it several years ago.
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