God Sends A Messenger

His name was David.

He was a good looking man in his forties, always well dressed with a regal bearing in spite of his disability. He was likely taller than me but I would never know that, for that first time I met him he was confined to an electric wheelchair. I never learned by what magic he operated the wheelchair. I noticed some kind of device protruding from the right arm of the chair but I didn’t know how it worked. Voice commands? Subtle movements of his head? Psychic control? I never asked him, for I was captivated with his story.

I had occasionally seen him around the unit, only occasionally after lunch and supper meals, for he generally ate his meals in his room. I assumed it was because he was embarrassed to be fed like a baby in front of the other patients, I guess I assumed that because he was always dressed in slacks and golf shirts unlike most of us who wore jeans or sweats.

One time, when I was having my right leg manipulated by Kenny, I noticed David lying on the other exercise bed in the physiotherapy room. His wife, or at least I assumed she was his wife, was being taught how to exercise his legs and arms because he could not move them for himself. Sadly it would be a long, long time before David’s wife would be able to apply her new found skills.

It was my last day in the hospital. And, I was eager to get home to my apartment. Nine o’clock had come and gone and my son-in-law still had not arrived to pick me up. Normally I don’t particularly mind waiting. I usually have a book to read. Or, I will just wander around the corridors of my mind enjoying the imaginings conjured up there. Then David arrived. I had never seen him in all the times I had spent in the west waiting area / TV room. When David told his story I finally knew why God had arranged for me to wait.

This is a pre-publication excerpt from CRASH! The final published material may differ from this.

COPYRIGHT 2012 Lyle T. Lachmuth, All Rights Reserved