Jake pulled into the underground parking at the campus of the University of Denver. He was early, but that was intentional. He had only been to the campus once before, as most interactions around his studies were conducted online. Only for the admissions interview had they asked him to come in person.
He had the layout of the campus and buildings on his phone so he wasn't too concerned about finding the cafeteria where he was going to meet the other four students from his study group, but usually one or the other obstacle would present itself somewhere along the way, requiring extra time. Stairs were the worst. Even a curb higher than an inch or two was almost insurmountable. He would have to ask for help or if nobody was around get out of the chair, sit on the ground and lift the chair up. Both options were less than desirable even though, push came to shove, he definitely preferred the latter. If there was one improvement to his condition he really wished for it would be the ability to stand up, even just for a few seconds. If he could just stand, lift the chair up a curb or stair and sit back down even without taking a single step it would make getting around so much easier. For the other Jake stairs had been an opportunity for extra exercise and often he would run up flights of stairs two steps at a time; now they had become the bane of his existence—I hate fucking stairs.
Jake's reflection about stairs came to an end when he finally spotted the disabled parking bays in the packed garage. One of the spots was available, but before Jake got close enough a car came down another lane and pulled in right in front of him. The driver got out and walked towards the lifts seemingly without any impediment. Jake pulled up behind him and hooted. He didn't respond. Jake lowered his window and shouted. "Hey!"
The driver turned around. Jake who was about to cuss him out, suppressed his anger and changed his tune when he recognized him as a member of his study group from their previous online meeting. "Hey, you're Steven, aren't you?"
Steve was young, by Jake's estimate probably not even twenty. He started walking towards the truck. "Hi, yes, I'm Steve. Oh, now I recognize you."
Jake stuck his hand out the window. "Jake Sully."
"Nice to meet you. Would you like me to wait till you've found a spot for your truck?"
"Actually I need you to move your car, unless you got one of these." Jake pulled the blue disability parking permit from the dash and held it up into Steve's face.
"Hey nice try man, but that's the oldest trick in the book. You shouldn't be driving a huge black truck like this if you can't get into normal parking spots."
Jake sighed. "Look Steve, I wish it was so, but I do actually need the spot. Jake pulled a blue credit card size ID with his name, picture and disability classification from his wallet and held it up for Steve to see.
"Um, sorry man. I didn't realize. Nobody ever uses these spots for real."
"Well I need to."
"Okay, I'll move."
Jake noted with satisfaction that Steve was at least a little bit embarrassed. "I'll wait for you."
Jake was waiting by the elevator when Steve finally jogged back towards him. When he saw Jake in the wheelchair he slowed down, staring at Jake's legs. Jake bristled under the scrutiny.
"Hey, up here."
Steve looked up at his face.
"Um, sorry man." He was guarded.
Jake sighed. "Just relax, I don't bite."
Steve blushed. Jake hit the elevator button.
"Do you know where the cafeteria is?" Jake asked.
"Yes."
"Any stairs on the way?"
"Don't think so."
"Okay. We'll see."
When they got to the cafeteria, Steve excused himself to go to the library to find some book that for whatever reason wasn't available online. Jake got himself a coffee then found a table towards the back of the cafeteria and moved a chair out of the way so that he could take up position with the wall at his back, able to survey the entire room. He took note of all windows, openings, ways of access and egress, positions for cover, the best sniper positions given the possible scenarios of attack. He sighed. Old habits die hard.
A while later Steve returned, proudly brandishing the book he had been looking for. One after the other the rest of their group arrived and they did proper introductions. Apart from Steve there were Rick and Marius and a woman called Lisa. All of them were at least a couple of years younger than Jake. All of them had noticed Jake's wheelchair, but no one had made mention of it.
When it was Jake's turn he rolled out from behind the table so that he had more space, balanced on his rear wheels, drove away from them, did a 360 and came back, like a model on a catwalk. Everybody stared. Then while resuming his position at the table Jake addressed the group:
"Let's just get this out of the way, because I can tell it's the big pink elephant in the room. I was a Marine and I am paralyzed from below the waist which means I can't stand up and I can't walk. No, I am not contagious and you can't catch what I have unless you get a big hole blown through your spine like I did, and no, it doesn't bother me if you ask me about it. The only thing I never want to hear from you guys is how sorry you feel for me because that just makes me angry." He looked expectantly around the group. "Any questions?" His eyes came to rest on Lisa who seemed to be the most uncomfortable in his presence. She was looking down at the table. "Lisa?" The intensity of the color on her cheeks increased.
Steve came to her rescue. "How old are you?"
"I'm twenty eight."
"And how long have you been paralyzed?"
"Eight months and five days."
Steve nodded in acknowledgment.
Rick was next. "Did you get shot?"
"No I was shot at while parachuting. It didn't hit me but the canopy. I crashed into a tree and a branch pretty much punched a hole into my lower back."
Lisa finally looked up at Jake. "Did it hurt a lot?"
"Yes, it hurt like hell."
"I'm so sorry." She looked away again.
Jake's mouth compressed into a grim line and he glared at her. "Didn't I just say I don't want your pity?"
"Jake, give her a break," Marius interjected. He put a protective arm around Lisa. "She's trying her best."
"Yeah? Well, her best isn't nearly good enough." Jake stabbed at the table with his index finger in emphasis.
"Come on Jake, don't be an ass," Rick said, trying to defuse the situation.
"Okay." Jake focused on Lisa again. "Try again."
"Oh, come on Jake." Marius again.
"No! I'm happy to work with you guys. I just want to know upfront if you are happy to work with me. I know a lot of practical stuff about robotics and weapons in the field that you guys can benefit from, but if she can't even look at me and get over the fact that I'm in a wheelchair then it's not gonna work. So Lisa, try again."
Lisa looked up at Jake and her cheeks were burning. "I think you're full of shit," she whispered.
Jake's face broke into a grin. "Now that I can live with." He extended his hand towards her. Lisa hesitated for a moment, but when she extended her hand and shook Jake's her grip was firm. She smiled a tentative smile. "Peace?" She offered. Jake nodded.
Jake fielded some more questions then the introductions moved on to the next in the group. When the meeting broke up Jake, Steve and Rick made their way down to the garage together. Lisa and Marius had gone their own ways. As Jake had suspected, the two were dating.
"What do you do in your spare time?" Rick asked Jake when they were in the elevator.
"What I like best is being physically active. I usually spend some hours at the gym every day."
"Wow, I'm surprised."
"Why? I'm not sick."
"Doesn't it bother you to see all the other people at the gym do things you can't do?" This time it was Steve who had asked the question.
They had arrived at the garage level. The elevator doors opened and Jake rolled out. The other two followed him. They watched while Jake got into his truck. He closed the door and lowered the window. "Now that was really a dumb question. You two kids standing next to my truck here—I can't do that. Do I seem particularly bothered to you? Why would it be any different at the gym? I have always been into sports. I first competed at National level when I was thirteen years old. Does it bother you that there are things I can do that you guys can't?"
"Like?"
Jake shrugged his shoulders. "I'm a sniper. Like acquire and hit a moving target at a thousand meters in three seconds for example."
Rick and Steve declined, suitably impressed. They said their good-byes and Jake pulled out of the parking bay.
When he emerged from the garage, Jake hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. Fuck. It did bother him. It bothered him a lot. All the time; wherever he went. Seeing people do things that he used to be able to do and do much better at that. But as JJ had suggested he wouldn't let himself be defined by his disability in front of other people. However, it brought back the one question for which he hadn't yet found an answer: Why me?