Dorsai - Taxi

The saleswoman and the other clerk are both looking surprised and even offended at what I said; the other one says "Sir, there's really no need to speak that way."

I just looked at him for a moment before answering "There isn't? Think about how you'd feel if it was you in that chair instead of her, and say that!"

He opened his mouth, then closed it again; I just told him "Yeah, that's what I thought" before turning and going back to where Evie was. After we were out of the store, she told me "I heard what you said back there. I know you didn't mean for me to, but I've always had good hearing, and the accident didn't change that. What in Gods name ever made you do that?"

By the time she was done, we were at my cab, and she waited patiently until I was back behind the wheel and had us on our way to the next place for me to explain "Dammit, I just had to. Even in the last place, I could see how people were looking at us; well, you, anyway. Then when she started acting like you were some kind of leper on wheels, it just made me mad and I couldn't let her get away with it. I'll admit that I've never really spent any amount of time around someone that had any kind of handicap, and bugger-all if I know what the hell I should or shouldn't do or say. But dammit, you're still a person, no matter what happened to you, or how you get around!"

A quick look via the mirror let me know that she was looking at me with something akin to interest on her face. Another one a minute later, and I could see that she was deep in thought about something.

So it surprised me, a little, when she spoke up again and said "You're one of the few people that seems to get past the chair, and how I look, and really make an effort to understand that there is somebody inside. I've gotten so used to being looked at like I'm – what did you say? A zoo exhibit? – that I've pretty much given up on other people acting any other way. Now I'm surprised when it doesn't happen like that. As for how you treat us gimps, you said it yourself: we're still people. When I told you I wasn't going to explode or break, and you said that you were driving me the same way you do for everybody, that was exactly the right thing to do – and I believe what you said, too, because I've been watching you. I can see that you're always watching the other drivers, and doing everything you can to make the ride as steady as you can – you slow down instead of braking when people let you, and you're just as gentle with the gas pedal." She paused for a moment, then went on "Anyway, what you're doing is fine, as far as how you're treating me. You haven't said much to me, but then, I haven't said much to you; I'll bet you were just waiting to see how much I wanted us to interact. Us cripples, we're pretty much like everybody else, in that there simply isn't any one way to deal with us any more than there is everyone else. Some handicapped are perfectly willing to milk it for all they can get out of it; others just want to find a way of dealing with it so they can get on with things." She gave a small, wry, laugh and continued "Me, I've still got a lot of resentment about what happened, and it still pisses me off sometimes."

I catch her eye in the mirror, and ask "You've been in a wheelchair, what, seven years?"

"Actually, a bit over eight – I took classes at school even in the summer, so I was basically a year ahead. Why?"

"Well, if I can repeat something you said back to you…"

"Go ahead."

"That seems like a pretty reasonable amount of time to get used to it. I mean, it happened, and there's nothing that can be done to reverse it or make it unhappen. So like you said to me about putting my hand on your butt: whatever the hangup is, just let it go."

A quick glance to see how she's going to respond tells me that she's just sitting there staring at me. A few moments later, I hear her laugh – and keep laughing for the next couple of minutes. When she calms down again, she says "Touche, Jim, touche. I guess I have been carrying around an attitude and giving people crap for what happened to me. The only people that did anything wrong were the ones that got sued, afterwards. It's done, and over; I know I shouldn't be taking it out on other people, and now I won't. I just realized that other folks don't know any more about how to deal with my handicap than you said you did, and that they really are trying to help me the best they know how. But because I'm no more like any other handicapped person than anyone else is, it's up to me to show or tell them how I want to be treated, and how they can actually HELP me with my particular problems. How did you get smart enough to think that saying that to me would work – or even might work – and not just piss me off?"

We were at a stop light, so I turned to let her see me smile before facing forward again and answering "You're not the only one that's been to college, and had to quit."

The light turned green, and I only had time to spare a quick glance to see she that was surprised before accelerating. Behind me, I heard her ask "You'll forgive me when I say that I'm a little surprised to hear that you've been to college, too. What were you studying, and why did you have to quit?"

At that, I began to tell her how I'd been a philosophy major, and how I'd dropped out after realizing that my degree wouldn't be worth the parchment it was printed on. As I was telling it, she interrupted a few times to ask questions and get me to provide a little more detail. She'd been going to the same school I had, so when I was able to describe some of the professors and physical features of the school, she quickly realized that I was telling her the truth.

By the time I was done, we were at the next place she wanted to go to. It was in a shopping mall, and after she'd bought a couple of things, she decided that she was ready for a little lunch. After I asked where she wanted to go, she told me that the food court was fine. After we'd gotten our respective meals – she insisted on buying mine, too – we found a table to sit at. I figured I was going to have to feed her, but wasn't quite sure how to go about it; she saw my predicament and simply told me "Go ahead and just pick it up, Jim. You haven't been picking your nose, or anything like that, so I'm going to trust that your hands are reasonably clean. There's nothing wrong with me other than what happened from the accident, so whatever germs are on your hands aren't going to make me sick."

As we were eating, I saw an elderly lady get up from one of the other tables, and after disposing of her trash, head our direction. I was surprised when she stopped, and told Evie "It's so good to see that you have someone willing to help you get around, dear; and it's such a shame to see someone as pretty as you in a wheelchair!"

I wasn't the one she was talking to, so I kept my mouth shut instead of telling her any of the things that crossed my mind. As it turned out, Evie did an ever better job than I would have by answering "I don't need your approval, and I don't want your pity. How about if you just fuck off?"

Surprised and offended, the old woman said "Well! I never!"

Evie just grinned and told her "Maybe you should, sometime. There's nothing like a good fucking to clear the mind – something you seem to be in desperate need of!"

At that, the granny-lady turned white before heading away from us at a nice, fast clip. When I looked at Evie, I could see the amusement and delight on her face – and couldn't help laughing softly before telling her "Nice. Real nice. I'll bet it's a while before she does anything like that again!", and making her laugh, too.

When we'd finished our meal and I'd thrown away the detritus of our meal, Evie decided that there was another store she wanted to hit. While we were there, she told me "I expect this might embarrass you some, but then again, maybe not. Either way, I need to use a restroom. And no, I don't need YOUR help, so get that panicked look off your face", the last with obvious amusement. She went on to say "If you'll get me into the ladies room – I'll suggest you get an employee to make sure it's empty first – and onto a toilet, then leave me some paper, I can handle it from there. I can be loud enough to let you know when you can come back in again; just don't expect it to be too soon."