The Woman in the Wheelchair

The Woman in a Wheelchair

Joe lived alone with his disability and the voices in his head. He thanked God often for not keeping him in a mental hospital or in assistant living place. Joe did his own grocery shopping; he showered and shaved, and was content in living by himself.
Joe figured something was going on about a month before, because of the changes to his apartment complex. The maintenance crew made a handicap parking space, before there wasn’t one. There was also a ramp coming from a first floor apartment. Joe figured it must be for a wheelchair.
Then one day there was in fact a woman in a wheel chair. Joe thought it was awesome that she could drive in her very own van. He couldn’t figure out how she did it though.
That same week Joe saw her going up a ramp in the parking lot. The ramp, in the parking lot, went up to the sidewalk.
Joe was on his balcony overlooking this so he yelled down.
“Need some help?!”
“No!” The woman in the wheelchair yelled. She still seemed irritated trying to go up the steep ramp.
Joe decided if she ever needed help, she would ask. He also decided he would give her all the room she needs.
The woman in the wheelchair, Joe thought, hired a helper. He was always on his cell phone, Joe thought, when he should be helping his client. Joe wondered if over use of a cell phone was a handicap. It clogged you judgment like alcohol.
The woman in the wheel chair deserved respect. When she drove back from where ever she went, she would wait in her own parking space, and honk her horn at her helper to come outside. Joe didn’t like her helper. Joe would often give him mean stares.
On a trip back from the grocery store, Joe was bringing in his groceries. The helper was just then arriving.
Joe stopped what he was doing to give the helper what he called his advice that wouldn’t cost the helper a nickel.
“Hey!” Joe slightly yelled,” I live in G and I am tired of your client having to wait for you.”
The helper, of course was on his cell phone, and he was slightly startled by Joe’s actions.
“I’ll call you back.” The helper said to the voice on the other end of the phone.
“What are you talking about, sir?” The helper asked. Although he wasn’t good at his job he was still trained.
“You should be waiting for her at her parking space. I don’t care if it is raining or snowing, you should be outside waiting.”
“I don’t understand what you are talking about, sir, but I get the feeling you are telling me how to do my job.” The helper sneered.
“What is more important,” Joe asked, “your job or your cell phone?”
“Sir, don’t tell me how to do my job.”
Joe was bigger and stronger then the helper so it was easy for him to grab the cell phone and throw it.
“What’s up? What’s up?” The helper shouted.
“I am disabled too, and as far as I am concerned we out number you 2 to 1. She should run over you with her wheel chair.”
After that Joe smiled and then said. “Have a nice day.”
Joe went back to his groceries. The helper ran to his cell phone which was in the grass.
Later in the day it started raining, a light sprinkle. The woman in the wheelchair parked in her space, then started honking her horn. The helper was nowhere to be seen.
Joe went down to knock on her window. The window slid down after the woman noticed Joe wanting to speak.
“Keep in mind you are the boss of your helper. He should be out here helping you.”
The woman in the wheel chair locked on Joe’s eyes, which she found out in the past was a good judge of character.
After noticing Joes’ shaken tremors in his hand, the woman figures something was wrong.
“Are you disabled?” She asked.
“Yes,” Joe answered, “I stay in G.”
“At least you can walk.” She told Joe.
“At least you can think right.” Joe told her with a smile on his face. However he didn't know which was worse.
The helper finally came out. Noticing Joe, he walked slower.
Joe walked back to his apartment as he whispered, “We out number you.”
Joe observed the helper helping the woman in the wheelchair. The helper felt Joe’s stares in his back.
The next day at about the same time, Joe noticed a stranger waiting outside.
The woman in the wheelchair came back in her van. The stranger stepped up with a smile on his face.
Joe was on his balcony.
The woman went down her lift smiling.
The stranger raised his voice.
“How ya doing boss?”
“Sometimes it’s hard being a greeter.” The woman answered.
Joe smiled as the new stranger pushed the woman in the wheel chair to her apartment on the first floor.