the wheelchair was thorny and awkward. She laced her arm around his neck, noting how strong a neck it was, but she gripped him so tightly that he had difficulty maneuvering. By the time he got her into the seat, his breath was ragged and little beads of sweat had popped up on his forehead.
“All right, Ms. Daisy, ma’am, shall we?” Malik joked as he began pushing the wheelchair of his silent new client.
The sun felt hot on Kennedy’s face. She tilted her face up toward it, allowing it’s warmth to massage her stony facade. Malik stood a few paces away from her, alternating between watching her and staring at the lagoon. This was his favorite place on the Stillwater grounds for several reasons. For starters, not many people came down here as it was quite a trek from the structure. The tranquility he found here on his daily breaks was rarely broken by chatter. He appreciated alone time, since it was something that was a rarity, especially since he’d allowed his brother to move in with him earlier in the year. At the apartment, with its small two bedrooms, a kitchen that opened to the combined living room and dining area and claustrophobic bathroom, there was rarely an opportunity to find solitude. His brother, Malcolm, who was seasonally unemployed, often had the company of some female, and no matter who the pick of the week was, they all had the same annoying giggles and the same exaggerated moans, which could be heard in every corner of the tiny place.
Here on the lagoon, Malik would sit and stare at the ducks, contemplating his life. He often felt that just like those ducks, all he was doing was floating on the same body of water, day in and day out, with no progress and without change. At thirty years old, Malik had become restless and dissatisfied. By other people’s accounts, including his parents, he had a good stable job with benefits and a pension that he’d only have to work thirty years to receive. All he needed to do was find a good woman, start a family and his life would be perfect. For Malik, however, there was so much more to the puzzle of his existence. The only problem was that even though he knew he wanted more for himself, he had no idea what else there was in store for him. Furthermore, he had even less of an idea of how to go about getting it.
A noise that came from Kennedy pulled him from his thoughts. From his vantage point behind her, he could not see her face, but the heave of her back and shoulders told him unmistakably that she was crying. He hesitated, unsure of whether he should leave her alone and let her cry uninterrupted or not. He knew all too well that sometimes a person just needed a good cry. His grandmother used to say that crying was like giving your spirit a bath. Still, something pulled him to her, awaking a need in him to comfort her, even though she was a complete stranger to him.
“Ms. Daniels, are you okay?” he asked as he moved in front of her.
She’d removed her shades and they lay on her lap. When he spoke, she moved her hands up to her face, covering her eyes. Her body trembled.
“Ms. Daniels, are you in pain? Would you like me to call for one of the doctors?”
She shook her head vehemently from side to side.
“No, I don’t want anyone,” she said.
Finally, a complete sentence from her. The sound of her voice, even though it was choked with emotion, surprised him. He hadn’t expected it to sound so strong. Even though she was obviously upset, her voice held a quality of vigor that was undisturbed by her current distress. With a right hand that trembled, she slowly reached up and wiped at the tears on both sides of her face. She lowered her left hand, fingering the shades that lay in her lap. Her eyelids blinked rapidly for several seconds before fluttering to a standstill. She stared out in front of her, seeing nothing.
Malik looked at her face, for the first time seeing it in its entirety without the distraction of eyewear. His heart literally stopped beating for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. He knew that she was beautiful. He had recognized that the moment he’d rolled her out of the transport vehicle. What caught him by surprise now, touching a part of him that he had not even acknowledged in years, was the fact that despite her tears and current distress, there was a harmony of spirit that possessed her. He had never laid eyes on a woman in his entire life that made him feel like he never wanted to look at another woman—until now.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I just…can I have a minute alone?”
“Sure,” Malik said, continuing to stare at her.
It took all the strength within for him to disengage from her face and move away from her. He walked a few feet along the lagoon and sat down on one of the large boulders that lined the edge. Occasionally, he dared to sneak a quick glance in her direction. She held her head erect, her face pointed toward the water. She didn’t move nor did he. He glanced at his watch, knowing that it was past the lunch hour and that he should have her back in her room already. Yet he was unwilling to interrupt her solitude.
Although he had other duties that he was currently neglecting, he had no intentions of rushing her. He couldn’t very well leave her by herself as she was a long way from the point in her rehabilitation where she could be left on the grounds to take care of herself. He knew that there was no clear prognosis as to whether her vision loss was temporary or permanent, but that the goal was to teach her how to live as a visually impaired person just in case. That would take weeks of work with the specialists and it would also have to wait until she had the use of both of her legs again. Until then, she was dependent on him and, try as he might, Malik couldn’t help but like the sound of that.
Chapter 6
“Thank you for…for today,” Kennedy said as Malik rolled her back to her room.
It was after eight o’clock in the evening and Kennedy had just finished an hour-long lesson in Braille reading for the blind. She was exhausted, having been kept on the go all day long. After her walk with Malik, she’d returned to her room for a quick bite to eat and then, because she was running late, had been rushed to physical therapy. There she’d spent thirty minutes learning how to pull her body upright from a reclining to a sitting position. Next was a trip to the weight room where she stretched and lifted weights for another thirty minutes. Dr. Pitcher, the ophthalmologist, came in to see her later on, where he performed a brief examination of her eyes. This was followed by dinner, another walk, or ride, depending on how one looked at it, around the grounds and finally the brail lesson, her last activity of the night.
Malik knew that Kennedy was referring to her breakdown at the lagoon that morning and while he didn’t feel like he had done anything special, he appreciated her gratitude.
“Don’t mention it,” he said as they arrived at her room.
He opened the door and rolled her chair inside. There was a chill in the air and he moved toward the wall that held the thermostat for the central heating and cooling system.
“Should I turn up the heat a little bit for you?” he asked.
“Umm, no. I like it this way. I was a winter baby,” Kennedy answered.
“Uh, oh. Don’t tell me you’re one of those T-shirt and flip-flop wearing, beach buffs in November kind of people. Girl, don’t you know that black people are from the tropics—we ain’t built for the cold weather.” Malik laughed.
It happened. For the first time since she’d arrived at Stillwater the day before, or at least while she had been in his presence, Kennedy laughed out loud and directly from that place inside where people are free and unpretentious. For Malik the sound was like the ringing bells of a winning slot machine. He watched her, the way her head tilted back and her mouth opened wide. It warmed him, filling him with the happiness that comes from seeing someone else’s spirit brightened, especially when that someone was special.
Malik lifted Kennedy from the wheelchair that had become an extension of her and carried her to the beige two-seater in the sitting area of the modest room. Although it was time for his shift to officially end, he did not want to leave her and he fished for excuses to hang around even if only for a few minutes more. He moved the wheelchair closer so that it was within her reach and started explaining the different mechanisms. A less than complicated piece of equipment, it was quite a task for him to stretch out his explanation,