Chhhhh…Changes
"The alternate version , what might have happened had Street regained his mobility"
"Be kind, I'm learning "
Dawn broke over Dillon, the deep orange rays sweeping across the plains. The town began to rise gradually from the slumber of a chilly October morning.
Jason Street lay in his bed, staring towards the rising sun. The sun warmed his face, and he could feel it on his arms, but not much past that. He cursed silently to himself and looked down at his lifeless legs. They mocked him, mocked what he once was, what he had always meant to be. All of his plans, everything dashed. All because he mis-read a damn post pattern, and apparently couldn't tackle as well as he thought.
"No sense in crying over the past" He said to no one in particular.
At least he was regaining his arm power, maybe that was a good sign. The doctor told him he may never regain any feeling period, the least bit of help was a positive sign for Street. Pulling the blanket back up over his torso, he shook off a shiver or two. Laying his head back on the pillow, he turned towards the window. The nurses wouldn't be around for another hour or so, settling in, his mind began to wander.
Two hours later Street sat in the same position when a visitor came knocking,
"Come in", he hollered through the crack of the door. Wondering to himself why the nurse didn't just come in. But to his surprise, it wasn't the nurse. Just his old coach, Eric Taylor.
Coach smiled his way, "Mornin Jason, was out running an errand or two this morning and thought I'd stop by, How are ya son?"
He shot coach a smile, "You know as well as I do, that I've been in this exact spot for almost 2 months. If it weren't for my wheel chair… I might sue this place for bed sores", he chuckled quietly.
Coach Taylor smiled back, but Street could see the pain behind the smile. He felt responsible and that killed him inside. Jason wished that he could say something, wished to the deepest part of his being that there were something he could say, but without asking he knew that this was Coach Taylor's burden to bear on his own time.
" Well we might have to say something to them about that, got to keep you moving. The more you work… well the more chance you have to regain movement. Speaking of that, have you gotten any feeling back at all?"
Street looked up into the man's dark eyes, searching for intent, what was his point? Did he want to hurt Street by reminding him that he might never walk again? The thought kinda pissed him off, but he shook it away and thought for a second,
" As of right now I can lift my arms, and grip somewhat. That's about the only thing I've got. Helps me get around the hospital, but not much more", he hung his head. " I did have a slight twinge in my left leg about two weeks ago. But nothing since, and sometimes I think it was nothing but a figment of my imagination. I wanted to feel again so bad, that I felt something that was never really there."
Taylor smiled and looked down towards the bed, he thought for a minute, "Jason I know that it must seem right now that your life is ruined. But son, you have got to see, you are still alive. You are still living and breathing and that is the best gift anyone can ask for. You've got a chance to go on with your life.." Jason cut him off and cast a wild gaze his way.
"Taylor. I'm going to tell you this once, and I want you to listen really well, ya hear?" Coach Taylor nodded and remained silent. " I know already that my time with the Dillon Panthers is over. I've come to terms with that, But I will promise you and the whole goddamn world one thing. I will not be in this fucking chair forever. Book it." He grinned and looked up, Coach Taylor seeing the same old fierce determination in his old QB 1's eyes,
"Jason that's all I would ever want for you, good luck to you and know that you can call on me if you ever need me." Jason nodded. " I know Coach, and I appreciate it."
Coach Taylor said his goodbyes and left Jason to face the rest of his morning with the rehab crew. Who knew, today might be his breakthrough day.