Artie
New Years' Eve had been pretty disappointing, as Kitty and the rest of the ski trip crew didn't make it back in time to celebrate. Artie opted to stay home with Sam, Amy, and the little kids, and they rang it in with snacks, board games, and family-friendly movies. The important thing, though, was that 2014 had arrived. A new year, a new start, and only two more years 'til Rio.
Artie and Sam were back on campus in what felt like no time, after the new year was underway. Artie fell back into his usual routine of classes and working with Zack. He'd had to take out swimming for the time being, though, and replace it with therapy... a whopping three times a week. Artie hadn't been to therapy that many times a week since he was a kid. As his condition had stabilized over the years, he'd eventually learned to do his own exercises at home and had cut out formal therapy altogether. In hindsight, that might have been a mistake.
"Step," Artie was saying this from the ramp, but since his friend, Zack, preferred the stairs, he had figured out how to say it at the exact moment the guidance was needed. Sure, Zack had his white cane, but Artie noticed he still didn't always time the step as well as when someone was able to call out the warning.
As Artie rejoined the other guy at the bottom, Zack fell into step beside Artie's chair. Artie had to concentrate hard on wheeling in as straight a line as he could when he was traveling with this guy, because if he veered too far one way, the roaming cane smacked his wheel. The amount of stares a blind guy and a guy in a wheelchair drew in was, well, exactly what you would expect. Especially if Zack tripped over Artie, which happened from time to time. On occasion, he'd ham it up and pretend to attack Artie with his cane for good measure.
"I feel like we need our own show," Artie commented, as Zack's cane hit his wheel with a resounding smack and he tried yet again to straighten out. This was their usual routine, anytime they walked from the library to a certain bench that had become Zack's usual meeting spot with his girlfriend, Dana.
"Or maybe a documentary," said a voice, coming up from behind. "Wheels and Cane: The Epic Saga. Something like that."
"That sounds like your girlfriend," Zack said, stopping in his tracks as Artie pulled his wheels to a stop and turned to see Julie approaching.
"Hi, Zack," she said, smiling and tucking her hair shyly behind her ear, obviously embarrassed by Zack's use of the term 'girlfriend,' but not bothering to correct Zack and say that they hadn't used that exact wording yet.
"That would be her," Artie said, a sneaky way of starting that conversation, the one that he eventually wanted to finish, hopefully to arrive at the conclusion that she was, in fact, his girlfriend.
(Where was Tina when you needed her?)
"Artie, do you still want me to come film your first physical therapy session for the documentary?" Julie asked. "Because I'd understand if you changed your mind and decided you feel uncomfortable. We could always film you later, after you've had a few sessions. But... I mean, if you want me to come to the first one, I'm free."
Zack smirked at Julie's ramblings and looked down expectantly in Artie's direction. His facial expressions were always so lively that it was very easy to forget the other guy was blind. Many times, Artie had nodded or made some kind of face in return before he remembered Zack wouldn't see it.
"No, no," Artie, who had never met a girl (besides his own sister) who used so many words at once, responded simply. "Come. It'll be fine. Really, and do bring your camera. This is supposed to be real, so if I suck, well then, I suck. But at least no one can say anything was staged."
"Okay, I'll see you there at 4:00 then," she said. "Oh! And is Sam coming? He wasn't at swim practice just now."
"Yeah, no," Artie said. "He isn't. He was going to come but he... had to go back to Lima for something."
"Oh, on a Thursday?" Julie shrugged. "Well, okay. I'll see you later, Artie, can't wait! Bye Zack!"
The guys bid her farewell as they resumed their walk. Zack was pretty familiar with where he was by now and there were no more steps to warn him about, so the pair was free to resume conversation as they strolled.
"Why'd Sam leave for Lima on a Thursday?" Zack wanted to know. "Doesn't he have any classes on Friday?"
"He's driving back for those early tomorrow morning," Artie reported. "Some... glee club emergency. I don't know. He said my sister and our old teacher both needed his help this afternoon.
"You all take your glee club pretty seriously," Zack observed. Somehow he could always tell when he'd reached the bench where he waited for Dana. He went right to it without fail every time.
"I guess it doesn't make sense unless you lived it," Artie said. "Though I agree, it sounds crazy, to drop everything you have going on in college because your old high school glee club needs your help."
He paused, realizing he needed to probably hurry and head to his first physical therapy session, if he didn't want to be late. But he also really wanted to stay and keep the other guy company. Blindness seemed like it could be such a lonely existence. You wouldn't know if a friend passed by you unless they announced themselves somehow. Luckily, it seemed Zack already had plans for how to occupy his time, as he pulled out his earbuds. Artie knew he liked to listen to audiobooks in his spare time.
"Still on to meet for lunch Friday and then working on math for a couple of hours?" Artie asked.
"Sounds like a plan." Zack ended a fist, for a fist bump, which Artie promptly returned. Zack plucked his earbuds in and waved. Then he paused and smirked. "You waved back at me again, didn't you?"
"Maybe. See you tomorrow."
Artie headed off in the opposite direction, towards the outpatient rehab clinic on the other side of campus. He mused that he'd get a pretty major workout, just getting to physical therapy. He wished he'd arranged to Julie to walk with him, but then again, he didn't. She'd be tempted to pull a Tina and try to push him when she saw how far it was.
Besides, he had to be there much earlier than she did, in order to have time to change into his hideous sweats that he wouldn't otherwise be caught dead wearing in public. Sweatpants showed every outline of his lower limbs and hid his atrophy pretty poorly, compared to jeans and khakis. Of course, he'd changed his attitude about pants a little, over the years. Instead of "the baggier, the better," he now understood that the more fitted look was nicer, even on him. Style, he'd learned, mattered to girls. And Julie was pretty stylish herself, so Artie knew that it probably mattered to her. He'd try to look his best.
Except for now. Right now, she was going to see him in ugly sweats. He supposed she'd seen him in much worse, at the pool.
Amy called him while he was on his way to the session. She was calling him back, because she'd missed his call earlier. He set the phone in his lap, turned it on speaker, and said, "Hey."
"Hey," she said. "Whatcha doing?"
"Wheeling," he replied, breathlessly. "Trying to get to physical therapy. I'm driving there next time. It's way further than it looked on the map."
"Can't you find some cute girl to push you?"
Artie laughed, half-heartedly. "I did have a cute girl who could have pushed me," he said. "But I told her I'd meet her there at 4:00."
"Well, you're still good," she said. "It's only 3:15. So unless it takes you 45 minutes..."
"Yeah, about that," he said, furrowing his brow. "Shouldn't you be wrangling glee kids right now? Why are you calling me now?"
There was a pause, then: "Oh, I had a break, but yeah."
"Why'd you kidnap Sam today?" Artie wanted to know. "He could be pushing me right now. He's supposed to come watch to see if he wants to be a PT after he sees how badly I'm going to abuse my student clinician today."
Amy laughed. "Well, it wouldn't be a really good session if you didn't make your therapist cry in their car afterwards."
"No, it just wouldn't be complete," Artie agreed.
Artie had gained something of a reputation for being difficult, when he was eight and new to therapy. He ran off two therapists before Javier. Artie, who was typically a reasonable person, still became someone else when the demands of therapy were thrust upon him. He knew he'd have to suppress that tendency today, in front of Julie and her camera.
"Well, I have to go," Amy said, suddenly. "But I want to hear all about the first session, and so does Sam. We'll call you tonight. Oh, and Sam says he's coming home in the morning and going straight to his class, so don't wait up tonight. Bye!"
She hung up before he got to ask, again, what was so important that she needed to kidnap Sam in the middle of the week. He hoped this wouldn't keep happening, Sam going home all the time. Artie knew that an hour and a half wasn't all that far, but he was going to pretend that it was, to have some semblance of a college experience.
Artie, for all his efforts, only managed to be about five minutes early for the session, by the time he got there, got changed, and found the waiting area. It was gonna be one of those situations where there were one-way mirrors, and on the other side were people he couldn't see watching him. That, plus Julie and her camera, added up to a lot of people watching this potential failure.
Speaking of Julie, she arrived a couple minutes before they called his name, precisely at 4:00. She was uncharacteristically quiet, which meant she was feeling nervous.
The sight of the standing frame waiting for him meant one thing to Artie: this was going to be a shit show. And when his therapist — a young, fit guy in his twenties sporting a soul patch and a man bun — strolled in, it just confirmed the fact.
"Ken," the guy introduced himself. "You must be Artie. And... this must be the girlfriend filming the documentary about your journey to the Paralympics."
"Julie," she said, her face blinking like a stoplight.
"Right, well, let's get started," Ken said. "Okay, Artie, tell me a little bit about your experience using a standing frame. When was the last time you were up in one?"
"Uh, I guess towards the end of my junior year in high school..." he trailed off. "So, almost two years ago. That was when I had to cut out therapy altogether. I just got busy during senior year and didn't really slow down last semester either."
"I see," Ken said, producing a clipboard and scrawling down some notes, which Artie found annoying, seeing as he could surely always rely on one of the many hidden observers on the other side of that mirror.
"Sorry, I guess I don't see the point," Artie blurted out, his bluntness getting the best of him. At least Julie wasn't filming yet. "I don't stand on a regular basis. What difference does it make if I do it a few times a week?"
"We-ell," Ken began, and Artie could tell the guy was about to get a lot of mileage out of answering this question (and Artie had meant it to be rhetorical). "The concern that's bringing you back in is progressive scoliosis, yes?"
"Yes," said Artie, coolly, before he could check his tone.
"Well, spending some time upright, even just a few times a week, will help improve your posture," he said. "And maybe, with a bit of luck, we could take you down the hall in the ReWalk. The university got a grant for a couple of them this past summer. I assume you're familiar with those?"
"I owned one, for a minute," Artie said, and he noticed Julie had started filming the conversation. He knew he'd better behave himself. "A defective one. It's a long story. But yes, I know what they are."
Ken nodded. "Well, fantastic," he said. "I know we're going to start seeing these more and more. It's a great invention. Anyway..." he gestured to the frame with far too much enthusiasm. "Let's get to it!"
After many complicated maneuvers, lots of straps, and the placement of padding that basically wedged him into place from the front and the back, he was up. He really had forgotten the way he could feel and hear his heart pounding, like a drumbeat directly into his ears, whenever this happened.
"Whoa," Julie approached him with the camera, as he forced a smile. "You're taller than I expected, Artie. This is great."
Artie wouldn't go so far as to call it great, but he was glad at least she enjoyed it. The next words out of Ken's mouth, however, sent him back on the defense in a hurry.
"We should try to hold this position for ten minutes," he said. "Maybe fifteen for the next session, and keep increasing, until we can get to twenty.
"We haven't ever done it for that long," Artie said, already finding it handle the odd sensations that went along with being upright. He glanced at the camera. "I'll see what I can do..."
Julie was awesome. She did her best to distract Artie with questions and chatter the whole time, but about eight minutes in, Artie knew his body had had enough. He was close to passing out, as his blood pressure plummeted from the unexpected strain. Ken had sense enough to lower him down gently, rather than waiting for Artie to faint.
"Your blood pressure dropped," Ken explained, cuffing his arm to check it as Artie used up every remaining ounce of his own patience not to say, "No shit, Sherlock!"
Someone in the hallway opened the door to hand Ken a water, which he gave to Artie, who drank it down like his life depended on it. After a few moments of resting, his blood pressure was back to normal again.
"That was great," Ken commented. "I thought you'd maybe make it five minutes, and check it out, you did eight."
"Then why'd you tell me ten?" Artie wanted to know, his irritation showing through. He didn't care if he was on camera. Raw and real, that was what the audience would get.
"To see if you could get more than five," Ken explained, as though it made sense. "So, Artie, you're pretty much the last patient standing between me and my doctoral degree, no pun intended. I think I've met my match in you, but I also think this is going to be fun. If you'll let it be a little fun, that is."
"Zero fun sir," Artie said, without missing a beat.
"'Remember the Titans,'" Ken said, fondly, and Artie lifted his eyes to look at him. "Big movie buff? I know I am."
Artie hardly thought being able to quote 'Remember the Titans' made you a big movie buff, but he'd just let that slide. He gave a nod and, after a little more pointless small talk and some exercises that he knew darn well were just to fill the remaining time, he left, with Julie trailing behind and still filming him.
"So," she said, continuing to interview him as they left. "He seemed nice..."
Artie laughed, as they headed to the elevator to wait on it together. "But I wasn't," he confessed, just saying what he knew she was probably thinking. "Sorry. PT brings out the worst in me. Always has."
"Why is that?" Julie asked, and Artie noticed she was turning the camera off now. The elevator opened, and they both entered.
"I don't even fully understand why," Artie admitted, more to himself than to her. "Just know that I'm working on my attitude. And maybe having to watch it back on camera will help me."
Julie laughed. "Maybe," she said. "Hey, so, since you've now told two people I'm your girlfriend today, do you wanna go out? Maybe get some food?"
Artie grinned up at her as the elevator door opened to the ground floor. "Does this mean you don't totally hate the idea?" he asked, pushing his way out as she trailed behind.
"I don't totally hate the idea," Julie replied. Without warning, right there in front of the elevator and a lobby full of people, she leaned over and gave him a peck.
And she even did it while he was wearing those ugly sweatpants still.