Wheels Of Steel

They shot me in a drive-by attack.It was by accident,the drug-dealer who’d been selling bum gear was beside me when they opened up.He got to carry on with his life.Me, I ended up on the pavement with no sense of anything from the waist down.Still,could’ve been worse.At least I could answer the call of nature without any humiliating ‘assistance’.But there was a whole heap of hassle before I even got that far.

The medics scooped me up with their usual care,can’t fault them on that;nice one guys, and strapped on a spinal board I was rushed to hospital.I think their first expectations weren’t that high,like if I lasted the night it was a bonus.When I chatted to the nurses weeks after, seems they’d had a lottery;most of them had bet on me pulling through.Ah,thank you ladies. And the majority of the neuro surgery wing had bet I’d croak within the week.But what did they know? And the porters had an each-way bet because they’d have to move me around whatever happened.

Eventually it dawned on them that I wasn’t going anywhere,in the sense of being six feet under and that maybe,just maybe,I was going to make it.And then came the glorious day when I got my first wheels,which was fine for a few days.Hey,I was mobile after weeks of being flat on my back,but a wheelchair was a wheelchair and could only deliver so much,which wasn’t a lot when you got right down to it.So it wasn’t too much of a surprise to find me at Harry’s a few weeks after they released me back into society.

You need to understand about Harry.Harry could have won the Nobel Prize for physics if he’d applied himself in that direction.But,ah heck,Harry wasn’t inclined that way.He had the knack of applying way out theories to very mundane problems and solving them in exotic and apparently illogical ways.Those ways,however,worked.Mostly.Hey,you gotta fly to fall out of the sky.That’s why I was at Harry’s.I had a problem and I wanted Harry’s particular and peculiar solutions to it.

Behind the milk-bottle bottom lenses of his glasses,Harry’s eyes gleamed fanatically after I’d explained my problem.A dribble of spit worked its way down his chin and I winced,as much as was possible in a wheelchair as he spoke. “Yes,yes I can see your problem;and I think,no,no I’m sure I can see an answer.” And then he paused,lost in a world of his own.I sighed,you just had to go along with Harry.You can’t rush genius;or insanity.I was never sure.Not with Harry.Fine line and all that.Harry absently reached for the pipe he’d packed in years ago,fanned the air when he remembered and popped an Everton mint in his mouth instead.I think it was about then that I was truly glad I hadn’t been totally paralysed,at least I was able to drum my fingers on the armrests of my wheelchair.

Harry caught the movement and came back to earth. “I can make something for you,if you like.” Like he was popping down the local shop for me.No trouble,just knock up a rocket powered wheelchair for you before tea;out there in the garden shed.No problem.I edged the wheelchair back slightly,Harry’s intensity was unnerving when he had the bit between his teeth.And I could tell he was having one of his ‘creative’ moments now.And I was responsible,so help me.

Harry turned to a white board and started scribbling with a marker.What ended up on the board was total gobbledegook to me but I suppose it meant something to Harry.He paused his scribing,tutted and wiped half of the symbols off and started again.
“Y’see,” he muttered, “it’s easy upto here,” and he pointed. “See?”
“Oh yes,” I murmured, “it’s obvious when you mention it.”

Harry was suitably gratified. “Yes,I thought I was right,nice to have it confirmed though.”

I felt a little queasy by now.Because I hadn’t a clue what Harry was on about and he was asking me for reassurance.Not good,at all.

Finally he turned away from the whiteboard, a great goofy grin on his face, eyes flashing with an almost demonic excitement. “Right,” he positively cackled. “Be gone, get thee hence, I have work to do!” I often felt Harry had missed his calling by not treading the boards, such was his propensity for the dramatic. Strangely this manifested itself at his most fanatical. And boy,was he fanatical now. Almost unbidden,my wheelchair reversed a bit more. “Sure,Harry, I was just going.Give you a bell in a couple of days.Yeah?” I needn’t have bothered.I was already gone as far as Harry was concerned and I was talking to the back of his grubby tweed jacket.

Back at the ground-floor flat (wheels and steps don’t mix too well) Marcie made me a coffee and hung her lanky frame over the arm and backrest of a couch. Marcie was my ‘minder’ for now until I really got re-habilitated back into society,the society that’d put me in this situation in the first place;and yes,alright, I’m still kinda bitter at some of the twists life had dealt me lately, but I was working on it.Some days are better than others.Between you and me,Marcie could have helped me with some certain rehabilitation I had in mind but she’d made it pretty obvious that was a no go;something to do with the fact her dad had ended his days in a wheelchair, just wouldn’t feel right.Pity,Marcie had everything I needed.Still,the coffee was good and she was very decorative.

Marcie shifted. “So, what’s going down? Heard anything from rehabilitation yet?”

I shook my head. “No,nothing yet.Just been out,gettin’ the air,y’know.” I don’t know why but I wasn’t comfortable telling her about Harry and our little scheme;not yet.Maybe never.She didn’t approve of him for some reason.She’d met him when I’d first come home and he’d been making some modifications to the flat.Don’t know what he’d said,or done,but the air was decidedly frosty when they were in the same room together, which wasn’t often,thank goodness.

She nodded,like she read a whole world into my words. “Okay.Look,I’m gonna slide off now,if you’re gonna be alright.Got things to do.Be back later,do your tea and stuff.” She uncoiled off the couch and patted my arm, almost affectionately.She sniffed. “Have you been to Harry’s?” She fixed me with her ‘eagle-eye’.

“No,no.” I told her, hastily. “Why?”

She shrugged into her coat. “Dunno, you always smell funny when you’ve been round his.See you later.” The door slammed and I sighed in relief.It was less fraught having an hour of psychoanalysis than having Marcie give me the third degree, I swear.

If only to relieve the tension in me, I wheeled round the flat,ending up at the window and looked out.Nothing going on out there,if you discounted the old dear being mugged by two hoodies.Sighing,I dialled the police and set a mental timer to see how long they took getting here.It was easy odds on the hoodies would be long gone before the law showed and the old dear was really getting battered.She was a game old bird because she wasn’t giving up the handbag they were fighting over , but it was no contest,two twenty year olds against an old biddy? Like I say,no contest.Now she was on her knees,and I was out the door,screaming and yelling for all I was worth.The hoodies turned and started laughing when they saw me. Hell,I’d have laughed too,only I was going to be on the receiving end of their attentions any second now.

“Push off, Wheels.This ain’t your business.”

So it was true.People did only see the wheels,not the person.Something boiled over inside. “You push off.” I shouted back. “I’m making it my business.Sling your hook!”

One hoody stood over me, all menacing one second,the next he was clutching his groin in bewilderment,and I should imagine a fair degree of pain.

I lay the baseball bat on the blanket over my knees. ‘Oswald’,the bat, had lived under the blanket for some days now whenever I went out. Society had taught me some valuable and necessary lessons.Sad,but there you are.The other hoody stood debating the wisdom of hanging around, especially as we both could hear sirens in the distance.In the end he decided discretion was the better part of valour and,shooting me one glare,ran off.