Page 82 of Brain Damage

Don’t get me wrong, I love walking with Natalie. Even though I’m terrible at it, it makes me feel almost normal again even though I fully recognize that I don’t look normal. But I have to admit, it’s not entirely practical.

“Look,” Clark says to Natalie. “I think it’s great what you guys are doing for her here. But let’s be realistic. At home, she’s going to be in the wheelchair a hundred percent of the time for the rest of her life. That’s just the way it has to be.” He looks down at me and smiles, “Charlotte, you’re okay with that, aren’t you?”

I force a smile to my lips. And I nod.

58

There’s a porch attached to the hospital where patients sometimes sit with their families. I haven’t been there in a while, because it’s been winter and it’s just too cold. But today is the first really nice day of spring, and after Clark leaves, my mother comes to visit and suggests taking me there.

At first I’m not sure. I’m so comfortable in my own unit, around the people I know. I get scared at the thought of people passing by on the street, and maybe seeing me. But then my mother reassures me that the porch is invisible to passersby on the street. And it really is a beautiful day.

My mother wheels me to the porch. Clark was so critical of my walking, but my wheelchair mobility isn’t much better. I still haven’t gotten the hang of wheeling my chair even short distances without bumping into the wall on the left side. I’m definitely better at it, but I’m still terrible. It’s so frustrating when I think that I’m just heading straight, and then all of a sudden, I slam into a wall.

I remember what the therapists said in that family meeting—I might be able to wheel myself for short distances around the home, but for anything longer than that, I’ll be dependent on others to push my chair. It’s a depressing thought.

When we get to the porch, I’m surprised to see that Jamie is already out there. His father is with him, and so is his son, Sam. I guess Jamie got over his embarrassment at the idea of Sam seeing him in the hospital. Sam seems so hyper, running back and forth across the porch, and then jumping back and forth across the porch on one foot. It makes me feel a little bit sad watching him somehow. I wish I could jump on one foot. I wonder if that’s something I’ll be able to do again. Probably not.

Jamie’s face lights up when he sees me. “Hey, Charly,” he says. “You remember my son, right?”

“Of course I do,” I say. Although with my memory the way it is, it’s entirely possible that I might not have remembered him. But I do.

“Daddy,” Sam says, hopping between his feet. “Can we play catch?”

Jamie hesitates only a moment before he says, “You got a ball?”

Sam nods eagerly. “Yeah. Mommy bought me one this morning.”

I expect that Jamie will fly into a rage at the mention of Karen like he did before. But he doesn’t. He seems to completely take it in stride that Sam was visiting with his mother this morning.

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s play.”

While Sam runs off to locate the ball in Mr. Knox’s bag, Jamie leans in to talk to me quietly. “I’m letting Karen have a trial of visitation,” he explains. “She’s agreed to submit to random drug testing. If it goes okay, we can split custody.”

“Wow,” I say. “You seemed really angry at her. I didn’t think you’d agree.”

“Yeah…” He heaves a sigh. “I’m not thrilled about it. But… she is his mom, and… well, I think we can all agree that I could use some help right now.”

Sam comes up with a white wiffle ball. I’m not particularly surprised that Jamie has a lot of trouble aiming the ball. His throws all seem to miss Sam by about two feet. Luckily, Sam doesn’t seem to have too much of a problem with chasing down the ball. The kid has endless energy. It makes me worry that Jamie isn’t going to be able to keep up with him after he gets out of here.

“You have the worst aim I’ve ever seen,” I say to Jamie.

Jamie looks in my direction. He smiles. “Oh really? Well, I’d like to see you do better, Dr. McKenna.”

I hold out my right hand, and Jamie places the ball inside. As he hands over the ball, his thumb rubs briefly against the side of my palm. At first I think it’s probably an accident, but then he winks at me and I wonder.

“All right,” Jamie says to Sam. “Charly is going to throw you the ball, and attempt to completely humiliate me by being awesome at it. Maybe you should back up.”

He’s teasing me. I can tell he doesn’t think I’m going to be able to throw the ball very well. I draw back my arm, cock my wrist, and hurl the ball at Sam. Even though Sam isn’t much better at catching the ball than his dad is at throwing it, the ball lands squarely in his hands.

Jamie raises his eyebrows at me. “Holy shit,” he says. Then he glances at his son, and quickly says, “I mean, great throw.”

“Charly played softball in high school and college,” my mother speaks up. “She’s always been a really great athlete.” Although I can tell she seems a little surprised as well.

“Is that so?” Jamie asks. He actually looks pretty impressed.

“Apparently,” I say with a modest shrug.

“Again!” Sam orders. He tosses the ball at me, but he’s off by about a foot, and I’m terrible at catching things anyway. My depth perception is completely off.