CHAPTER 18
The next few days passed in a blur. Each day was filled with friends, relatives, tribe members, doctors, priests and even a medicine man. Each person had a positive message for Billy but the bottom line remained that he was, and would stay, paralyzed from the waist down.
As always the two most important people in his life, Blake and Carolyn visited him every day. Carolyn seemed to have forgiven him for his misunderstandings about P.E.T.A. and her brother. Blake of course, was his usual cheerful self. Their visits helped with the terrible depression he now felt about his incurable condition.
Days, then weeks, of physical therapy followed. Billy slowly learned how to get around in a wheelchair. There was a little bit of good news when Billy regained some feeling in his lower waist. He was able to use a real bathroom now instead of being hooked up to a bag. Unfortunately, that was the extent of his return to normality. His body had repaired itself as much as it could. The fact remained that his legs would never again have feeling and because of that he would be forever unable to walk.
Depression set in, and Billy began eating less. Blake claimed he looked as skinny as a starved out three legged coyote. He simply collapsed in the hospital bed and watched soap operas all day. It got to the point where some days, he refused all of his meals. The hospital staff tried everything to get him to eat but he refused even the most tempting offerings.
One day a doctor cornered Blake and spoke frankly. “We’ve done all that we can for your nephew. Keeping him here is just slowly killing him. He needs to go back into his familiar surroundings and get into some sort of a routine.”
Blake thought for a minute and slowly nodded in agreement. “Doc, I think you’re right. Because of all that has happened I failed to see what Billy really needs. It is not this hospital. He needs to get back into the woods to cleanse his soul.”
The next day Billy found himself being wheeled out of the hospital and into Blake’s old pick-up. The hospital staff helped Billy into the passenger seat and adjusted his seatbelt. They wheeled his chair away and Blake headed the truck out of the parking lot.
The trip back remained a quiet one until finally Billy blurted out, “How in the world am I going to pay that hospital bill, and how am I going to get around now that they have taken away my wheelchair?”
Blake chuckled, “Money has never worried you before boy, why now?” Without waiting for an answer he went on. “Billy, you are an Indian and that was an Indian hospital on federal land. They’ll take care of most of the bills. The rest was covered by a drive Carolyn set up to collect money to help your lazy butt out!”
Even Billy chuckled at that one. “I’ll take being lazy any day over working for you!”
Blake continued, “To answer your second question, there was money left over after the hospital bill was paid, so Carolyn and I bought you a new wheelchair. It is smaller and light weight, just like the kind of wheelchair that athletes use. You can do most anything.”
Billy retorted angrily, “Can it help me ride a horse?”
Blake paused and then answered back slowly. “Billy, you’ve got to realize just how lucky you are to be alive and how many people are out there who love you and have been praying for you. I have no idea what it is like to be in your shoes now, but you’ve got to take the bumps God gives you, get back up, and do the best you can.” Billy didn’t say anything for a while. He was thinking of Blake’s sage advice.
Finally he grinned slightly and said, “Uncle Blake, for a member of the F.B.I, you sure are wise.”
“F.B.I?” Blake said.
“Full Blood Indian,” chuckled Billy.
As the truck pulled up to Blake’s hacienda two familiar forms came rushing out from the porch barking furiously. “Max and Pete!” Billy exclaimed.
Blake explained, “Angela thought you might like a couple of familiar faces to meet you when you arrived. We can keep them here with you until they are needed for the cattle round-up in the fall.”
The dogs leaped in the truck through Blake’s open door and licked Billy furiously. Blake came around to the other side of the pickup and helped Billy into his new wheel chair. Billy’s strong arms grasped both wheels and immediately pulled the front tires up into a wheelie. He raced down the driveway to the main road and back again. With a huge grin he wheeled up to Blake. Billy didn’t have to say a thing. The grin on his face told the whole story.
“So you like it?” Blake asked.
Billy grinned and said, “I LOVE it, it’s a thousand times better than my old one!”
Later that day, after Billy had worn himself out with his new toy, Blake motioned for Billy to follow him. As they headed toward the barn, Billy wheeled the chair expertly. It hadn’t taken him long to get the hang of it. He marveled at the freedom it gave him.
Blake spoke up, “Do you have enough energy in you for one more surprise?” Billy nodded and Blake muscled open the heavy old barn door.
As the door opened Billy saw an old friend, “Samson!” he yelled in joy.
Billy wheeled quickly up to Samson. The horse had never seen a wheel chair speeding towards him and reacted as horses do when frightened. As Blake watched helplessly, Samson reared up and lashed out his hooves at the perceived threat. Billy and his wheelchair tumbled completely over. Billy hit the ground hard as the horse raced past him.
CHAPTER 19
Billy felt himself being picked up by strong arms and gently put back into his wheelchair. A cowboy hat fanned much needed air into his face. He saw Blake looking at him anxiously.
Billy managed a crooked grin and said. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a tornado!”
“Nope,” replied Blake, “What hit you was nothing but pure horsepower!”
Billy checked himself over carefully. Finding nothing apparently wrong he breathed a sigh of relief. Later as Blake pulled Billy up the stairs into his house he explained to Billy that things with Samson would take time to get back to how they were.
“Billy, you’ve got to understand that Samson went through a trauma too. He lost his master and friend. I’ve been a stand in for you. I sensed in the last month or so that he had given up hope of ever seeing you again. When you suddenly rolled up in that wheelchair, he didn’t know what to do. So he reacted like any scared animal would when faced with the unknown. That’s why he acted the way he did, and just like you, he needs time to heal.”
Just as Blake had predicted, Samson slowly returned to his old self. In the ensuing weeks the horse and the young Indian bonded once again. Time, the one thing both of them had plenty of, gave them the hours they needed to reconnect.
Billy started a daily routine with his horse. He’d enter the barn at daylight, feed and curry Samson, and then the two of them would go for a “walk” around the ranch grounds. The horse would lead as Billy gamely wheeled himself behind. If they came to a spot too rugged for Billy to push through, Samson would pull Billy. Blake had been the one to come up with the idea of trailing a rope behind the horse. It hung off Samson’s left side at about his belly level. Billy would hold on with his right arm. In almost every case, this enabled Samson to pull Billy through the rough spots.
Although Billy now had a purpose to each day, Blake was worried about his nephew’s future. Billy’s father had visited his son a couple of times since the accident.
It was as if Burt wanted to make peace with Billy but for some reason he was unable to do so. Blake also worried about the unchangeable fact that as autumn rolled around he would have to go back into the hills to guide hunters. Samson could come along, but as for Billy, it was out of the question. It snowed often and hard in the high country and it was no place for a wheelchair bound person.
Billy knew the fact that Blake would have to leave soon, as well as how things stood with his father. The thing that tormented him the most however, was the fact that he would never be able to compete with Samson in the Suicide Race. It ate at him that he had trained himself and his horse so hard, and so long, for noth
ing. That was bad, but the worst part was that he would never be able to clear up his family honor. Although he had nothing to do with it, some of the tribal members still looked down on him because of his father’s apparent cheating.
It didn’t take long before each day took on the sameness of the previous day. Visits from Carolyn helped, but Billy couldn’t help but wonder how much longer a beautiful woman would want to hang around a crippled Indian.
An act of kindness by Blake and Burt improved Billy’s spirit for a short while. One day the two brothers came driving up in an old pickup. It had been broken down and abandoned at his father’s house the last time Billy had seen it.
They both got out and walked up to Billy. “We’ve got something we want to show you,” said Blake, who did all of the talking.
They left the door open which allowed Billy to wheel up and look inside. Billy’s eyes widened as he saw that the brake and gas pedals had been modified so that they could be used without his legs. Billy pulled himself into the driver’s seat and tried the levers that took the place of foot pedals.
“Well what are you waiting for kid? Start her up!”
Billy did just that. He slowly circled around the driveway then headed quickly out to the pasture. The pickup took off in a cloud of dust heading towards the upper field.
“He’ll be alright up there,” Blake said, “Nothing there that can hurt him.” Burt grinned back at his brother.
Although the truck gave Billy a new found freedom, he still saw no light at the end of the tunnel. The idea of being unable to walk, of being stuck in a wheelchair for life, was like being wrapped forever in some hellish cocoon.
Day after day the hopelessness of the situation ate at him. He began to spend less time with Samson and more time in his room. He did try to keep positive, and one day on the spur of the moment he drove to the clinic to show Carolyn his new truck. Unfortunately, she was in the middle of surgery on a dog and couldn’t spare the time needed to see him.
More and more, he found himself aimlessly daydreaming. It just seemed to him that the world was passing him by. His life lacked purpose and he had nothing left to look forward to. His dreams were gone. The Marines don’t take cripples he thought angrily.
One day Blake came over and literally hauled him out of his room and wheeled him outside. “Billy Boy, you and I are going to the back of the pasture to fall one of those dead cottonwood trees. We can buck it into smaller pieces and it will make excellent firewood.”
Billy scowled and said, “My wheelchair could never make it through the woods!” Blake said nothing and simply disappeared behind the barn. He came back leading Samson. Hooked up to Samson was something Billy hadn’t seen since he was a kid. It was an Indian travois.
Indians used the travois for many years to haul their possessions from camp to camp. The one Samson was pulling was made up of two pine poles about twelve feet in length. They crossed slightly above Samson’s head and were tied together just behind the horse’s neck. They were then snugged up to the pommel, or handle, of the saddle. The remaining end of the poles reached back behind the horse and dragged on the ground. A piece of canvas was tied across the two trailing poles, which enabled Billy to sit and ride on it. With extended bridle reins, Billy could control the horse.
Blake helped Billy out of his wheelchair and onto the travois. As Samson trotted away Billy hung on for dear life. After a while though he became adjusted to the bouncing and swaying and soon he was at ease with this new mode of transportation.
After a long day of practice, Billy had learned to control both Samson and the travois by himself. Blake did the cutting and Billy and Samson hauled the pieces of firewood back to the cabin. Billy rode on top of the load and then flung the pieces off into a pile. Then they’d head back to the woods for another load. On each trip back, Billy challenged Samson to drag him faster and faster. Billy loved the feeling of the wind and the thud of Samson’s hooves. It was the greatest thrill he had experienced since the accident.
The next morning Blake carried a cup of coffee to Billy’s room and handed it to him. “I’ve gotten all of my chores done around here. It’s time for me to get up into the woods and set up the camp for this year’s hunters. I’ll be bringing the horses up next week.” Of course, it went without saying that Samson had to go too, thought Billy.
“I’ll be o.k.,” he mumbled to Blake.
With that he turned to face away from Blake. A few minutes later Billy heard the truck start up and leave.
The next morning Billy awoke to an exceptionally beautiful sunrise. This motivated him, and he quickly pulled himself out of bed and into his chair. He got himself washed up and dressed. As he wheeled himself out to the pasture, he whistled loudly for Samson. The horse perked up his ears and came quickly. He sensed his master’s energy. It was a struggle, but Billy was able to hitch the travois up to Samson all by himself. With a flick of the reigns, off they went.
Billy pushed the horse and himself hard. By lunch time they were in a rhythm that was a pleasure for both man and horse. Samson was a quick learner, and with just a gentle tug to either side of the reins, Billy was able to communicate direction to his horse. By laying forward and flat in the travois and grasping a rein in each hand, Billy was once again enjoying a freedom he thought he would never experience. He and Samson would once more be a team!
At mid-day Billy turned the travois back towards the barn. The day had been exhilarating for him but the rough ride had failed to tire him out. He was sure Samson felt the same way. Once in the barn, Billy unhooked the long poles from alongside Samson and let the travois slide to the ground. Samson happily trotted out of the barn for a quick roll in the dirt.
Billy cooked himself a hearty lunch and cleaned up. It had been an inspiring day and now he had another brainstorm. He carefully wheeled himself back outside. He eased his way over to his truck. His luck held as he saw that Blake had left the trailer hitch on the bumper. He slid himself into the driver’s seat and wrestled his wheelchair inside the truck. The next part would be very difficult, for he had to back the truck up to the horse trailer so that the bumper’s hitch met exactly at the receiver of the trailer. Normally this was done with two people. One person acting as a spotter, and the other a driver, but Billy had only himself. He backed the truck up as close to where he thought he had things lined up. He then killed the engine, put on the parking brake and wrestled out his chair to see how he had done. He wheeled himself to the back of the truck and groaned as he saw he was about a foot to the right. Back to the truck he went to start the entire process over again. It took him nine tries and over an hour until he got it right. Finally with a thud, the trailer hitch fit perfectly over the ball on the bumper.
Happy, but not done yet, Billy called to the horse as he wheeled himself into the barn. Once again he hooked the travois to Samson who then loyally followed Billy up to the horse trailer. He quickly unhooked the travois and spanked Samson on the rump. With a squeal the horse jumped up into the trailer. Billy slid the travois alongside Samson and wrestled the gate of the trailer shut behind him. Billy was exhausted but exuberant as he pulled himself, and the chair, into the truck and then started down the road. Wouldn’t Blake be surprised at the guest who showed up at hunting camp that night?
CHAPTER 20
“What the hell are you doing here?” Blake asked incredulously. “I told you that I needed time to get the camp ready. Don’t you understand this is how I make my money? You and I both need this money to survive on. How can I get this camp set up and look after you at the same time?” Blake’s rant was certainly not the greeting Billy expected.
When Blake saw the look of anguish in Billy’s face, he softened a little.
“Look,” he said, “We need to talk.” He took a seat on a stump next to Billy.
“Everyone knows the trauma you have been through, but few people, including yourself, know the pain those who love you went through. Your father, Carolyn and I worried and prayed about you. I even
brought a medicine man in from Montana to pray to the Great Spirit for your recovery. You should have seen the hospital staff going crazy when he burned some sage and filled the room with smoke. They about hung me over that one. The point is that all of us sacrificed mentally for you and in spite of that, your legs did not heal. We are all at the point now of regrouping and figuring out how to help you move on. Billy, you’ll forever be crippled and we all have to deal with that. Your options are very limited as to what you can do. Have you thought about that?”
When Blake finally stopped there was a long period of silence.
Billy finally replied, “Are you saying you’re finished helping me? If that’s the case, then I can take care of myself.” Sadly he wheeled himself away.
Blake shouted after him, “Billy, it’s not that I don’t want to look out for you, it’s that sometimes I am unable to.”
If Billy heard or even cared to listen, he didn’t show it. Blake watched with a helpless feeling as Billy silently wheeled himself over to the truck. He lifted himself and his chair into the cab. With a loud clash of gears, the truck and horse trailer disappeared in a swirl of dust.
CHAPTER 21
The drive down the mountain gave Billy plenty of time to reflect on everything that had happened. He thought about tonight, his accident, and even things before that. It seemed to him that his life had been one disappointment after another.
His mother had died when he needed her most. His father had cheated in the Suicide Race and consequently ceased playing a significant role in Billy’s life. His girlfriend didn’t, or couldn’t, make time for him. Even his cherished horse had thrown him into the rocks which turned him into a useless cripple. Now Blake, his beloved uncle, didn’t have time for him anymore. His dream of becoming a Marine was gone. There just wasn’t much future for a man with useless legs.