Practice
written by: Bill Tope
“Life is a freaking melodrama,” declared Darrell sullenly.
“What is it now?” asked Charlotte.
“I’m on this goddamned walker, and…”
“Don’t swear,” Charlotte scolded mildly.
“I’m on this freakin’ walker,” he corrected, “and everyone who passes me by thinks that I’m a retard, or…”
“Special needs,” Charlotte corrected automatically. “They don’t use the term retarded anymore. Haven’t for decades,” she added pointedly.
Darrell hung his head and sighed. “Jeez, PC is everywhere,” he lamented. “Well, anyway,” he went on, “they all think I’m ‘special needs’ and they talk loud and get in my face and…”
“What do you want them to do?” she asked.
“Just treat me like a man, like a human being,” he explained. “I don’t need nothing special, no one has to hold a door for me or anything.”
“Then tell them,” suggested Charlotte. “They don’t know. They think they’re doing good, maybe feeling a little guilty, to be walking along on two good legs. The last thing they want to do is make it worse for you. People,” she said, “are basically good.”
He smiled warmly at his wife. “How did you get so smart?” he asked.
She inched her wheelchair closer and gave him a peck. “Practice,” she said.
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