Baby Steps
“I Can! Look at me Em! It’s…..like…… when I was five years old and finding out I didn’t always need training wheels on my bike.” Within days of fresh air walks and Cook’s cooking, Dez had banished the walker from her sight. Dez felt hunched and crippled irreparably. Keeping her frustration hidden, she pasted a smile on her face in the morning and tried to keep it there all day. Stubbornly, she was managing the stairs to get down to the kitchen, letting her crutches clatter down ahead of her. Letting go of the aluminum ‘training wheels’ took a little longer, but she avoided using them if at all possible. “Pick up those crutches, Miss Dez and use them. What’s the use of you making all that racket if you’re not even going to use them.” Dez, straightening up to her full height, just about snapped back at Cook. Held her tongue at the last minute. Stiffly, she bent down and picked them up, adjusting them under her armpits, she walked herself carefully to the table. “Cook, you sound like my mother.” She still had an edge to her voice, but was grudgingly glad for being cared about. She’d been so independent since leaving home so young. Now she felt useless, crippled. And a burden.
Today was the day she and Em had planned a walk without her aluminum companions. She’d only depended on the walker and then the crutches for a few weeks. She was nervous about standing on her own, walking on her own. Brewster, Samuel’s beautiful black dog, had been Dez’s motivation. The dog barked and growled at the crutches, backing away and running back to Samuel. Dez needed to be free of them. She wished that she had shoved them under her bed and come downstairs on her own.
Over the past week, Cook had been watching Dez. From the tall, confidant, laughing woman always in her denims ready to work outside, hair twisted up and held with a bright plastic comb, she seemed to have shrunk. Any laughter was tinny, trailing off to silence. Grey sweatpants and sweatshirt had become her uniform, her black hair hanging loosely on her shoulders. The only time she’d seen any difference was when Samuel brought his dog to the house. “Well, Miss Dez, if you and Miss Em will be walking, don’t you think you need to fix yourself up?” Cook felt nervous even saying anything, but no one seemed to have noticed. Miss Em was always busy with her life outside of the Estate. James just came into his office, never crossing paths with her. When Martha came in, they talked about everything but the two sisters. If Martha noticed any changes in Miss Dez, she didn’t say a word. Dez’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Do you think so, Cook? Brewster won’t care. She’ll just be glad those crutches aren’t with me to frighten her.” She glanced up at Cook, brushing invisible crumbs from her clothes. “I guess it would be good to get out of these old grey things. Freshen up a bit. Maybe you’re right. If I’m going to go out - even to see a dog - I think I may want to clean up.” Dez sat straighter. She stood carefully without her crutches. “I think I’ll go around on the porch. Go in the front door. Can I leave these crutches down here for now? I’ll get them a bit later.” Staying close to the cupboard, to the wall, to the door, she walked carefully through the mudroom. Just before going into the mudroom, she stopped, turned her head and said “Thank you, Cook. I really needed that.” She continued on to the porch. She thought it would be a difficult walk, but with each step it was easier.
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“I Can! Look at me Em! It’s…..like…… when I was five years old and finding out I didn’t always need training wheels on my bike.” Emelina dropped her keys, leather briefcase and hurried to her sister. After morning meetings with the Estate accountant, the bank and lunch with Jeremy in the hospital cafeteria, she had just arrived home to see her sister making her slow way around the porch to the front door. “ Oh, my goodness! Dez, where are your crutches!? Shouldn't you still be using them? How did you get here?”
“I’m fine, Em! My crutches are under the kitchen table. I told Cook I’d get them later.” Dez pushed her hands away. “No, don’t touch me. I can do this. I was getting too dependent on the stupid things.” She stopped and looked at her sister, always ‘dressed to the nines’ their mother would say, whether in slacks, dress or skirt. Her hair was a bit disheveled after her busy morning but still neater than Dez could ever make her own. She brushed stray hair out of her eyes. “Ok, Dez. If you say so. Does this mean we’ll be walking this afternoon with out your two friends?” Dez had reached the door, stopped and took a breath. “Yes. I’m not going to call for Brewster right away. I don’t want her to knock me over. Better yet, we could walk over to the garden and sit down in the chairs by the shed. Are there any hydrangeas left over there? Brewster and I will visit then - and Samuel, of course.” Emelina laughed with relief. “Dez, I thought I had lost my sister! You’ve been depressed since coming out here. I thought you’d love it, be happy but you’ve been gloomy and grumpy most of the time. Now look at you!”
“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.”
~ Confucius
