Never idealize others. They will never live up to your expectations.
Leo Buscaglia
I was progressing well in my physical therapy, but I had to take it easy on the turns because of the twinge I felt yesterday. I needed to give my knee time to recover, and my therapist was worried I'd tear it all again. I wasn't going to let anything set me back.
"Let's move on to cones," Megan suggested, pulling out the orange cones that looked more like cups. She put ten in a row on the ground spaced a foot away from each other. "High knees, Elijah."
Nodding, I got in place and pushed myself up and over the cones. I wasn't going to let my knee be anything but straight. On my third rep, I was beginning to tire, but I was concentrating so hard I thought I'd be okay. I heard commotion coming from the entrance to the building, and I allowed myself to get distracted for a moment to look up and see my mother and JAson walk in.
What was she doing here? DIdn't she have to work today? She was early? What was she doing with Jason? I missed a step and stepped on one of the cones, tripping me so I fell onto my hands. My mom witnessed the whole thing.
"Get up, Eli. You're not going to get better down there," my mother strolled over to my therapist to discuss my progress I had a feeling, completely ignoring the anger on my face. She told Jason, in her most loving voice she reserved only for special occasions, to wait in one of the chairs in the waiting area.
How could she say that to me? This was the first time since I started therapy three months ago that she actually ever showed up. She didn't understand the pain I pushed through every day. She didn't understand that I worked out twice a day to get better. She had never hurt herself. She didn't understand the what I went through.
I curled my fingers into fists as I stood up. I stare after her, who is trying to act like a caring mother and see how I'm doing according to my therapist. Suddenly, all of the air I was receiving is cut off, and I'm left trying to breath rapidly through my mouth. I wasn't getting enough air. Kicking a cone out of my way as I head out of the rehab center, I let the cool, evening air wash over myself.
My parents were slowly suffocating me. I needed to get away. I’d apologize to Megan for my behavior tomorrow at therapy, but for right now, I couldn’t care about that. I wanted to go home. What I really wanted was to just jump into the traffic. Let Jason replace me, but I wasn’t strong enough to do that. What I’d settle for was graduation. As soon as I am handed that diploma, I was going to leave and never look back.
“Elijah!” my mother’s voice screamed at me from the front of the rehab center. I was pacing back and forth in front of the car, so I hadn’t gone too far. Not like she’d be worried even if I did. She walked over to me, grabbed my arm and spun me to face her. I barely noticed her fingers digging into my flesh. “Your behavior is unacceptable. What has gotten into you?”
I shrugged her off. “I just needed to get some air.” I looked away, refusing to look her in the eyes. My gaze landed on Jason, who was standing awkwardly a few feet away. He didn’t know what to do with himself, so he just shifted his weight from one leg to the other. His hair was cut shorter so he had a hard time of hiding behind his hair.
I sighed, letting out a deep breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. I let the anger dissipate, and I turned to my mom, “I’m sure you’ve got to get to the office and do paperwork or make up for the time you gave up to help Jason. We can get going so you can get to the office. ” My voice was cold, uncaring. I hope she understood how much it hurt that she took more time out of her day to be with Jason than she ever had with me.
She looked slightly surprised, but nodded. “I do need to run to the office, but I can drop you two off first.” She unlocked the car with the remote in her hand. I let Jason take the front seat as I hopped in back. When we got into the car, my mom turned around to look at me. “This isn’t finished. I’ll be discussing your behavior with your father.”
I looked my mom in the eyes. “Can’t wait.”
~.~.~.~.~
Saturdays were nice for me because after therapy, I had the whole day to myself. My parents were never home, so I never had to worry about running into them. I usually went out back to shoot some hoops, which is exactly what I did. I ignored Jason as I just headed out back. I hooked up my ipod to the dock and enjoyed some electronica music.
Grabbing the basketball, I took my first shot from the top of the key, sinking it. I kept shooting until I missed. As I went and retrieved the ball, I glanced back at the house and noticed Jason staring at me from the doorway. I stopped short. Something about the pain in his eyes made me sympathize with him. But, I didn’t want to treat him any differently than everyone else. One day, he’d disappoint me, too.
“Hey, come on,” I called out, waving him over. He looked at me tentatively before he braved moving forward. “You ever play?” I asked as he came closer. When he shook his head, I threw him the ball. He wasn’t expecting it, so he fumbled the catch, and was only able to grab it after it bounced on the ground. “I’ll teach you,” I promised him. “You need to know how to play to get along with me.” The sad part was I wasn’t joking. It was easier communicating with people through the game, but it only worked if they understood the way the game was played.
I pushed Jason to the block, facing the basket. I moved his arm into the ‘U’ with the ball in his right hand. “Ok, do my motion,” I instructed. I did the motion of shooting a ball. Jason did as instructed, but it came up way short of the hoop. “That was good form. Do it again.” I had him repeat it a few times, not worrying about whether or not he got close to making it, which he never did. “Ok, now, use your legs. Bend them at the knee.” He bent it too far, and he looked awkward. SO, I put my hands on his waist and situated him how I wanted him. He flinched at my touch. I frowned, wondering what he’d been through.
He probably went through more than anything I’d ever gone through. The poor guy couldn’t remember his last name. He didn’t know where he came from, nor where his parents were. He was more alone in this world than I sometimes felt. He had been thrust into a world he didn’t know anymore. Nothing was familiar. And as much as I hated my life and just about everything in it, I was luckier than him.
After a few hours, Jason was getting the hang of the game. We did one on one, but he wasn’t a challenge in the least. Not yet. If I had a few weeks with him, I could make him a pretty good player. Jason was tiring fast. He couldn’t keep up with me.
“Do you want to take a break?” I asked him. He nodded, but said nothing. “Do you only talk to adults or something?” He hadn’t said two words to me the whole time we’d been practicing.
He shook his head, “N-no. I-I can t-talk to anyone,” he ducked his head. Shy.
I leaned forward, “You have a stutter or something?”
“N-No, I d-don’t believe so,” he replied, shaking his head vigorously.
I sighed. If he was too shy to actually speak to me, I wasn’t going to push him even farther out of his comfort zone. “Come on, I’ll fix us some supper.” I led him into the kitchen and had him sit at the counter. I poured him a glass of lemonade and set it in front of him. “This will quench your thirst.” I commented.
I got to work at making spaghetti. “I hope you like it. It’s one of the few things I know how to make. I’d say I’m pretty decent at it.”
“A-anything is f-fine,” Jason assured me. “I’m s-sure it’ll t-taste just fine.”
I nodded as I stirred the noodles that were bowling in the pot. “Come stir this,” I instructed, handing him the fork I was using. Jason came over tentatively and mimicked what I had been doing. I moved on to the sauce and put in some seasonings.
I wasn’t going to let him get away with not helping out and trying to pull his weight. I didn’t give people special treatments. I believed if you wanted something, you worked for it. Jason was no exception. Amnesia or not. He was no different than anyone else, he just couldn’t remember a lot of things other people usually did.
But, Jason was a good kid. He meant well. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt me in the long run. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not even a few months from now. But, he would when I least expected it. I’d be left broken and scared and left to pick up the pieces all on my own, and I didn’t think I could handle that. Not again.
]Never idealize others. They will never live up to your expectations.
Leo Buscaglia
