Finding Jaime

Jaime POV

"Okay, Jaime," my occupational therapist, Ryan, was saying. "Let's try that again."

He put the puzzle piece in front of me on the tray of my stupid wheelchair. It was a toddler puzzle but the pieces had knobs and we were working on getting my arms and hands to listen to me.

I had managed to pick up the puzzle piece. But my arm spasmed and I threw it away. I was frustrated. I just wanted to get up and walk and I couldn't even put a toddler puzzle together without my body freaking out at me.

My arms were tired already from physiotherapy in the morning. I had been working them on a contraption that looked like a bike standing on its tire. I had to move the pedals and eventually they'd make it harder. For now there was no resistance on it but I still could barely move the pedals.

"I c-c-c-nt," I stuttered, pushing the piece away with the back of my hand. "I... I..."

"Okay, relax. You can. You just have to tell your arm to tell your hand to tell your fingers to pick up the piece," Ryan, was saying as he picked the piece up again. "Try again."

"Nuh!" I said. Ryan didn't say a word.

"Okay. Okay," he finally said. "I think you might be a bit more tired than you thought. We'll pick this up again next time."

Ryan packed up and patted my shoulder.

"You'll get there, Jaime," he tried reassuring me. I frowned at him. What did he know?

Dad came outside as Ryan was leaving.

"How'd it go?" I heard him ask. I didn't hear Ryan's response.

Then Dad was in front of me, sitting on the lounge chair.

"Frustrated?" He asked me. I shrugged.

"Tired?" He asked. I shrugged again.

"Want to take a nap? It's early still. You have time before the boys are home from school," he said. I shrugged again.

"You're going to have to give me an answer. Either you want me to take you inside or you want me to leave you out here. Well, I'd stay. But if you want to lie down, I help get you on the couch," he said. I shrugged again.

"I... here... ssss-uhm," I managed to force out.

"You want to stay out here for a bit?" Dad deciphered. I nodded. Dad smiled at me.

"Okay. Are you hungry or thirsty?" He asked. I nodded.

"Th-th-th..." I couldn't get the word out.

"Thirsty?" Dad guessed. I nodded again.

"Water or juice?"

"B-b-b-eeeeee-r," I grinned.

"Funny. We do have root beer though. Want some?"

"Oh-k-k-ay," I said.

"Okay. I'll be right back," he said.

A couple of minutes later, he was back with a plastic cup with a lid and a straw. He brought the straw to my mouth and I sucked on it until the cold root beer made it up and into my mouth. It tasted good.

"Uh-kay," I moved my head away from the straw for now.

"Alright," Dad said. "I know you're frustrated, Jaime. It's going to take time. This isn't like when you fell into the canyon. Or the cancer."

"Nuh," I said. "W-w-uuuh-sss."

"Yeah. It's worse," Dad said. "Jaime, were you aware of anything before the movie theatre?"

"S-s-uhh-m," I said.

"I see," Dad said. I know he wanted to have a conversation about something but it was hard for me to get my mouth to work with the words I wanted to say.

"C-c-oh-oh," I frowned trying to get the word out. "C-c-oh-or-ort."

I hoped he figured it out.

"Court?" He asked. I nodded. "You were aware in court? You heard it all?"

I frowned.

"Nuh, s-s-um," I said. Dad nodded. "J-J-ay-l?"

"All of them. They all went to jail. Frank and his cousins got ten years. Justin got two and home arrest plus community service. He helped the police after..." Dad trailed off.

"H-he ... t-t-ry... s-s-s-t-t..." I couldn't get the word out. I raised my arm a little and brought it down.

"Struck?" Dad asked.

"Nuh," I said. "S-s-s-t-t-aw-aw-p."

I finally got it out.

"He stop? He tried to stop them?" Dad asked. I nodded.

"Are you sure?" He asked. I frowned, trying to think. So much of that night is gone from my memory.

"Th-th-th-in-k... s-s-so," I said.

Dad nodded again. I could see tears in his eyes.

I looked out across the back yard. I wished I could just get up and walk away. I wanted to run.

I laid my head back on the headrest of this stupid wheelchair. I hated this. I was trapped in my own damned body. I could barely move on my own, I couldn't walk, I could barely speak. I have so much I want to say, just to get my frustrations out. But everything is exhausting.

I felt myself getting moved and then lifted. I was placed on a soft surface and felt Dad, I guessed, stretch my legs out and rub them a bit. Then I felt a blanket cover me.

"He fell asleep outside. I'll let him nap here," I heard as I fell into a deeper sleep.

I liked sleeping. In my dreams I was whole again. I could walk and run. I could talk without stuttering or losing words.

I'm not sure how long I slept but Dad was waking me up for dinner.

"Let me get you back into your chair," he said.

"Nuh," I said.

"Yeah. You can come to the table more easily. C'mon," he said, putting his arms under me.

"Nuh," I said more forcefully. "Nuh... eat,"

"Not hungry?" Dad asked. I shook my head. I just wanted to sleep more.

"You're sure?" he asked. I nodded.

"Okay. You stay here. I'll check on you in a bit, okay?"

"K," I muttered and went back to sleep.