Kenny let the belt out just a tiny millimeter. To me it felt like a yard. I lurched forward. Out of control. Or, so it seemed. A fierce jerk brought me back. Into balance.
“You’re okay. Now let’s take that step.” Kenny said. “And this time hold onto the railing.”
I lifted my left foot. Stepped down. Felt my foot rest securely on the riser. Took a deep breath. Lifted my very week right leg. Set it down on the riser. Next to the left. Breathed again. Kenny stepped down behind me.
“Ready to go again,” Kenny said.
We did three more. They seemed to take forever. Finally we arrived at the bottom landing. Relieved. Shook. Exhausted. Happy.
“Great job Lyle.”
“I will see you tomorrow. Remember, tomorrow’s my last day with you. Someone else will be working with you. Till you are discharged. ”
I was instantly depressed. Kenny had prodded, provoked, and pushed me to get better. He helped me back into my wheelchair.
I looked again, down the apartment stairs. I can do this.
I gripped the railing with my left hand. Took a deep breath. Lifted my left foot. Guided it down to the riser below. Took a breath. Paused. Lifted my right foot onto the riser below. Took a breath. Paused.
And, did the same routine twenty three more times.
I had finally arrived at the first floor. I opened the corridor door. Turned to the right. Limped to the aparment foyer. Opened the glass security door. Limped into the foyer. Checked my mail box. Nothing.
Opened the door to the outside. It was glass. Like the inner door. I pushed it open. A blast of air hit me. I limped along the apartment sidewalk. Underneath the cottonwoods that grew on the property. I reached the public sidewalk.
And, faced the next challenge.
Copyright 2016 — Lyle T. Lachmuth, Pre-publication Draft
