I felt a sudden burst of air and a sweaty body brushed up against my arm as wheels whizzed by my now-vertical cane. What was that? A skateboard?
A female voice caught my attention. “Stop staring at them. That isn’t nice.” Someone laughed. Someone else mumbled. I strained to hear. Did the woman mean Bob and me? Of course, everyone can see us. Just because we can’t see them doesn’t mean they can’t see us. How quickly I forget.
“Make way. Let ‘em pass on by. Move yo’ feet, boy.”
There would never be a good time to ask my location but Bob was right, I needed to find out. “Uh…Excuse me? Could you tell me where we are?”
“Now you at Perry Square.”
“We have to cross one more street,” Bob explained as if he’d known our location before I asked. “Lead the way, Sherlock.”
I had almost finished crossing a side street when I heard a tough lady’s voice “Hey, watch it. That’s a six thousand dollar paint job on my bike!” I tilted my head toward the voice. She seemed to be shouting at … who? Me! “Yeah, that’s right, chick-o, you!”
I heard a tough lady’s voice “Hey, watch it. That’s a six thousand dollar paint job on my bike!” I tilted my head toward the voice. She seemed to be shouting at … who? Me! “Yeah, that’s right, chick-o, you!”
Me? I froze, terrified to take another step for fear my cane might do more damage. I was probably swinging it like a golf club without paying attention to where it landed. What if I had chipped her paint? This woman sounded seriously aggravated, as if she wanted to beat up this particular chick-o. What was I thinking? There must be a right and wrong way to arc my cane forward in a crowd, one that I hadn’t yet learned. Bob, what about that lesson?
There must be a right and wrong way to arc my cane forward in a crowd, one that I hadn’t yet learned. Bob, what about that lesson?
“Did I tell you that this is also the weekend for ‘Roar to the Shore’?” Bob asked me dryly. “Eight thousand motorcyclists are gathered right here in the heart of downtown for the event.”
I felt faint. “Well, I don’t think I befriended that motorcycle mama.”
“Come on, let’s keep moving and find our target restaurant.” Bob’s voice took on a jovial tone meant to spur me forward.
My trainer had learned to sweep away negative criticism as easily as he took the next sweep of his cane to move forward. The more I thought about it, the more I liked his approach. Bob always taught me more than good mobility techniques. He also modeled an attitude that would bring me success.
You are reading “Watch Out! Blind Lady Walking.” Copyright July 2014 from Mobility Matters Stepping Out in Faith due out next month. If you enjoyed this excerpt from my book, LIKE it, leave a comment, and DO share it with a friend.