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No Man Left Behind_part201
By: Corrie
(Note: Should read Non Man Left Behind part 200 first.)
Jess tapped his cane back across the movie theater parking lot
toward the last direction he heard Rebecca. When the tip
brushed against what he thought should be her shoe, he held
his hand out to her.
She took his hand and stood up. “I’m not
prepared…”
He sensed her stand seconds before her limp body toppled into
his, knocking him back a step or two.
“Rebecca.” He let go of his cane vaguely
recognizing the sound of it hitting the ground.
He wrapped his arms around her, sinking down with her.
“Becca.”
Holding her in the cradle of his arm, he felt for her face. It
was clammy. She stirred and popped up from him.
“What?” She pushed away from him. “What
happened?”
“I think you fainted.”
“I got dizzy.”
He reached out to find her arm. “Why are you
shaking?”
“I told you earlier that I’m cold.”
He shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her.
“It’s not that cold out.”
“Sorry if my body disagrees.” Her teeth chattered.
His hand traveled up her arm and over her shoulder to touch her
check again. “Are you sick?”
“No. I’m just hungry and cold. Maybe I got up too
fast. Or my blood sugar is too low.”
“My phone is in my jacket. Give it to me.”
“What for?”
“I’m calling someone to get us.”
“No you’re not. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“Look.” She said as she pulled away from him again.
“There is a convenience store across the street. We can
buy some nuts and juice. If that doesn’t help then you
can call someone.”
He dragged his hand across the stubble chin before he cocked
his head in the direction of car doors slamming and engines
accelerating.
A dozen protests flashed through his mind. “Okay. It
doesn’t seem far. But I’m holding on to
you.”
“If that will make you happy.”
“Let me get up first.” He groped in front of him
until he located his cane. “Give me your arm.”
He set his foot in front of hers for balance, then circling his
arm around her hip, they rose slowly. He set a cautious pace
across the movie theater parking lot, the quiet street and
through the busier traffic around the gas pumps. She let him
know when they reached the sidewalk outside the store where he
assisted in setting her down on the curb.
“What do you need, Becca?”
“I’ll come with you.”
“You stay here. Tell me what you want.”
She signed. “Salted peanuts and orange juice.”
He pulled his wallet out of his back pants pocket and handed it
to her. “I don’t know what I have in
there.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?”
No he wasn't. “Just give me a ten if I have one. I
can handle the rest.”
"Okay, okay." She took his wallet and pressed a bill in his
hand. “Remind me to teach you how to fold your bills so
you can distinguish them.”
“That would be helpful.”
Jess gripped his cane, using it to find his way down the
walkway.
Rebecca called after him. “The door is to your left.
It’s a pull out.”
He inhaled slowly, squaring his shoulders. The he reached out,
his hand initially touching cold glass. He fumbled for the
handle, gripped it and pulled.
Immediately his senses were assaulted with smells of coffee and
pizza.
He startled when a high-pitched voice came from his left?
“Can I help you, sir?”
He shoved back a growing sense of anxiety. He couldn’t
allow his fears to take over. Something was wrong with
Rebecca. He needed her. He had no ability to navigate a
strange environment without her.
Before he could answer, the bell rang again. He felt the
disturbance in the air as someone passed while saying,
“Excuse me.”
The same high-pitched voice said, “I have a couple
customers who need ringing up. Then I can help you.”
“Thanks.” Jess stepped to the side.
He jumped when something soft and fluffy grazed lower arm.
Considering his state of high alert, he was surprised that he
hadn't counterattacked. He really was losing everything
that he once had.
“Excuse me,” said a female voice. “I wanted
the box of donuts by you.”
“Sorry.” He felt some small solace that he
hadn't instinctively caught her her in a choke hold.
Jess took one step to his right, wincing as something dull and
hard jabbed his thigh.
A few minutes later, he held his cane in a death grip snuffing
his instincts to react to the unexpected hand which came from
behind him to tap his shoulders.
Tobacco breath said, “Can you hand me a Toffee
bar?”
“Sorry.” Heart racing, Jess held up his cane which
would mark him as blind. “Let me move.”
He stepped backwards. His ankle twisted against an
unanticipated obstacle, which gasped in pain.
“Sorry.” Jess tensed under the hands which steadied
him.
How many more times would he have to say that in the next few
minutes? How much more incapable and out-of-place would he
feel before he could accomplish a simple task and flee back to
safety and comfort of Rebecca?
The owner of the hands which still gripped him said, “Let
me help you, man.”
Jess nodded. “Yes. Thanks.”
Then he held out the wadded ten dollar bill in his sweaty palm.
Once he said what he needed, Jess stumbled back through the
convenience store door and waited outside until his rescuer
hung a plastic bag on his wrist and pressed bills and coins
into his palm.
Fixing a fake smile on his face, he returned to where
he’d left Rebecca. He handed her the bag, stuffed the
money into his back pocket and sat down next to her.
“How did it go?” she asked.
She sounded almost as tired and overwhelmed as he felt.
He rubbed his face in both hands expelling a breath.
“That good, huh?” Her chuckle was weak.
“Not a place I’ll frequent again anytime
soon.” He dropped his hands and turned toward her.
“I was a kid the last time I felt that incompetent and
in everybody’s way.”
He heard the sound of plastic shifting underneath her response.
“I see more retail experiences in your future.”
“I see more time on Dr. Shah’s coach.”
She lean into him and rested her head on his shoulder.
When a short time passed, she said. “Thanks. I’m
already feeling less shaky.”
She seemed to need to draw some strength from him. Strength
sapped further from his latest sightless experience. Strength
expended by being around her and not being able to have her.
And because of his faltering reserves, he couldn’t
prevent himself from awkwardly draping his arm around her
shoulder and turning his face to murmur in her hair,
“Don’t scare me like that again.”
She pulled away from him too quickly. “I’m ready to
head home.”
Comments
Will
I think I misread line 25, which probably should have been spelled "couch" instead of "coach". And other typos reveal themselves as I read in the audio. Not to worry.
Jess's blindness certainly draws out our sympathies, and Becca's teachings are not only interesting but touching. The details of hi...I think I misread line 25, which probably should have been spelled "couch" instead of "coach". And other typos reveal themselves as I read in the audio. Not to worry.
Jess's blindness certainly draws out our sympathies, and Becca's teachings are not only interesting but touching. The details of his plight, after all, are none that I would have imagined on my own: the folding of bills to identify them, the groping and fumbling, the anxiety and being reduced to the restrictions and self-imaging of childhood.
Criticisms: I get confused in the store between people, which I think is because a moment of assessment is due on Jess's part when he first walks into the store. For example, you plunge right into "Tobacco breath," when Jess should beforehand have considered that someone who smoked was near him. A little internal dialogue would go a long way here: "Perfume, yes, perfume and talc." It was a combination his mother wore. "There must be a woman nearby," he considered, "probably in her 60's". The woman's voice then issued a bone-yellow, breathy tone, something about wanting the donuts beside him. Jess brightened in self-congratulation. "Yes, pardon me," he said.
Just a few suggestions. Your writing is sometimes confusingly sparse.
Jess's blindness certainly draws out our sympathies, and Becca's teachings are not only interesting but touching. The details of hi...I think I misread line 25, which probably should have been spelled "couch" instead of "coach". And other typos reveal themselves as I read in the audio. Not to worry.
Jess's blindness certainly draws out our sympathies, and Becca's teachings are not only interesting but touching. The details of his plight, after all, are none that I would have imagined on my own: the folding of bills to identify them, the groping and fumbling, the anxiety and being reduced to the restrictions and self-imaging of childhood.
Criticisms: I get confused in the store between people, which I think is because a moment of assessment is due on Jess's part when he first walks into the store. For example, you plunge right into "Tobacco breath," when Jess should beforehand have considered that someone who smoked was near him. A little internal dialogue would go a long way here: "Perfume, yes, perfume and talc." It was a combination his mother wore. "There must be a woman nearby," he considered, "probably in her 60's". The woman's voice then issued a bone-yellow, breathy tone, something about wanting the donuts beside him. Jess brightened in self-congratulation. "Yes, pardon me," he said.
Just a few suggestions. Your writing is sometimes confusingly sparse.
- October 12, 2014
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I think I misread line 25, which probably should have been spelled "couch" instead of "coach". And other typos reveal themselves as I read in the audio. Not to worry. Jess's blindness certainly draws out our sympathies, and Becca's teachings are not only interesting but touching. The details of his plight, after all, are none that I would have imagined on my own: the folding of bills to identify them, the groping and fumbling, the anxiety and being reduced to the restrictions and self-imaging of childhood. Criticisms: I get confused in the store between people, which I think is because a moment of assessment is due on Jess's part when he first walks into the store. For example, you plunge right into "Tobacco breath," when Jess should beforehand have considered that someone who smoked was near him. A little internal dialogue would go a long way here: "Perfume, yes, perfume and talc." It was a combination his mother wore. "There must be a woman nearby," he considered, "probably in her 60's". The woman's voice then issued a bone-yellow, breathy tone, something about wanting the donuts beside him. Jess brightened in self-congratulation. "Yes, pardon me," he said. Just a few suggestions. Your writing is sometimes confusingly sparse.