I felt bad for Robbie. I know he was acting like a jerk earlier, but I can understand with him recently becoming disabled. If I was gonna be his caretaker, I'd better give him a bit of slack before he can warm up to me and start to feel happy again.
I decided I was going to make him a bowl of gazpacho. As I was putting the finishing touches, I could hear Dipper fuming and pacing back and forth.
"Stupid Robbie. Even being disabled, he's still a jerk."
I turned to my brother to assure him.
"Dipper, I know Robbie's not easy to get along with, but he needs our support."
"No he doesn't. His parents can hire any caregiver they want. Heck, why didn't they just get Robbie's other friends to give him emotional support?"
"I'm sure the Valentinos have their reasons. Now I'm gonna bring Robbie his lunch before he gets even more cranky than he is right now."
I took the tray up with me to Robbie's room.
"Robbie, I made lunch. Don't worry, it's not poisoned; its just vegetables and broth from a cardboard box."
I lay the tray down next to Robbie's bed and spooned a bit of the gazpacho. Robbie complied at first, but then spit out the content.
"THIS SOUP IS COLD!"
"It's gazpacho; it's suppose to be cold."
"Why would you serve me cold soup?"
"I didn't want to burn you by accident. Haven't you ever seen any of those shows where the caretaker is feeding someone soup and accidentally burns their crotch?"
"Even if you burnt my crotch, I wouldn't be able to feel it."
"Well I can heat it up for you and have it be regular tomato soup."
"Don't bother; I've lost my appetite."
I wasn't annoyed as I was a bit discouraged by Robbie's attitude. I then noticed that Robbie's blanket over his body looked a bit heavy and thought he could use a lighter one.
"Here, let me get you a new blanket so you don't get sweaty."
I began pulling off Robbie's blanket, but when I did, I was shock at what I saw.
Robbie's entire body was thin and atrophic. His arms and legs were like pale twigs compared to what they had been before with scars everywhere and his fingers and toes were stiffened into twisted claws.
"Oh Robbie, I had no idea. You were only paralyzed recently; how did this happen?"
"Doctors say it's high levels of stress." Robbie sighed, "Pretty gross, don't you think? Never thought I'd be too skinny to wear skinny jeans ever again."
I looked at his face. I couldn't help but see embarrassment and self-loathing in those sad, sunken-in eyes.
"Robbie, you're not gross; banana flavored taffy is gross. No matter how broken you may end up, you'll always be Robbie."
I got up and sat on the bed next to him.
"You know what'll cheer you up?"
"Stem cells to help regrow my spinal cord?"
"Nope. A home spa treatment. I figure a little pampering will help you take your mind off your troubles."
I got up my backpack and took out some cosmetics.
"We'll start out first with touching up those roots, then I can give you a facial, a massage, and then we can finish off with some nail art."
