A New Approach

story and illustrations by Jordan Roach

I dedicate this book to Aria for giving me so much help with my story

Maple Leaf Book Writing Project

Brattleboro, Vermont

Copyright 2014

Chapter One:Monday

The school bell rings as I roll up the entrance ramp. I see the door closing a few feet away. It slams right in my face. It seems to mock me. Since I’m tardy I must enter through the office door to collect my late pass.

“Late again Mr. Walters?” the secretary scolds, staring down at me from the brim of her glasses with a disapproving look.

“Yeah, and I’m really sorry. I’m still getting used to this wheelchair thing and I can’t-”

“I won’t hear it!! Off to class, Sam. I’ll see you after school on Friday for detention,” she rudely interrupts.

I hang my head and wheel down the hall toward my classroom. I stop at the door marked “301: Nelson” (Nelson stands for Mr. Nelson-- this is his social studies class). I turn the knob and, apparently, the brakes on the wheelchair are not set so I go sailing in and the door crashes into the wall. I feel heat rush to my cheeks. I just want to get to my desk and not be the center of attention. However, when I turn it’s too wide and I crash into the desk next to me. I wipe my palms on my jeans to get rid of the sweat. I can feel my classmates’ stares pounding down on me. I go slowly to my desk, trying to forget about this. Mr. Nelson takes away the actual chair so I can fit under the desk. He goes on with the lesson like nothing ever happened; I like that.

During the lesson, all I can think about is how much my arms hurt from pushing around the chair. When it’s time to go to the next class, I have the challenge of navigating the hallways while all the others kids are walking too.

As I make my way down the hall I find that four people flock over to me and surround me, one on each side. The guy in front of me grabs the bottom of the chair and tilts it backwards. I’m halfway off the ground and starting to panic. Beads of sweat form at the top of my forehead and drip down my face. “Guys, you don’t have to do this,” I plead, hoping I can convince them. It’s not realistic that they’ll listen so I stop talking. The guy in front lets go and I fall. Before I hit the ground the guy in back catches me. They pass me around like this for a while and then they stop, laughing and shoving each other playfully as they go. I sit there, breathing rapidly, pale-faced and stunned.

* * * * *

Besides the tardy I get for being late to second period, the rest of the day is a breeze. As I wheel home, I keep thinking about what happened in the hallway today. Those guys took advantage of me. They found my weakness and they played it to their advantage. As I wheel down the driveway, it dawns on me that what I experienced in the hall today is what I have caused for so many people in the past.

Chapter Two

I roll in to find my mom and dad sitting side by side on the sofa, as though they have been waiting for me. I wheel over to them so that I’m seated right in front of them.

“Hello Sam,” my mom greets me. “How was school?”

“It was good. I was late to school again though, so I have detention at the end of the week,” I reply, deciding to leave out the part about the hallway incident because I can handle it on my own.

“Yes, I think there’s some things we should figure out regarding you and the wheelchair,” my dad adds.

We go over all the changes that need to be made because of the wheelchair and how me and my parents play a part in it. It’s really helpful.

We are quiet the rest of the night. I do my homework, my parents do whatever they do, and we never cross paths. The night goes by quickly and it’s time for bed. I need help from my parents to move my legs onto the mattress. There’s a pile of pillows and an ice pack for my legs to lay on. Eventually my eyes close, and I drift off to sleep.

* * * * *

4 months earlier…

I could see the fear in Owen’s eyes as I backed him into a corner. My victim shrank to the floor under my shadow; the more he cowered the more powerful I became. I brought my clenched fist down to meet his cold, pale, sweaty cheek. He let out a cry of pain as I made contact. I heard shrieks all around me, some of laughter and some of horror. I took swings at the boy, never stopping, never thinking, just doing. When I was finished, I stood, turned my back, and walked away. Some people said I shouldn't have done what I did because I'd get in trouble. The funny thing was, nobody ever seemed to tell on me. They were too afraid, afraid I’d hurt them. As I walked, kids separated to the walls making a clear path down the hall.

Teachers always praised me, not knowing what happened in the halls. In the classroom I was different. I behaved well. I got good grades. That way if anyone did tattle, teachers would think they were lying. They would never suspect it. It’s a good thing there weren’t any security cameras! At home I was a good kid too. My mom and dad thought I was the best kid ever to live. I had it all figured out.

Chapter Three: Tuesday

The frost on the windows this morning is so thick, barely any light can break through. Some little strands shine in but it’s mostly darkness in my bedroom. The door cracks a bit and my mom peeks through.

“Morning Sam. It’s time to wake up. There’s a bowl of oatmeal on the table for you,” she says in a very calm, quiet voice. Before I can ask she comes over and helps me out of bed and into the wheelchair. Today my mom will drive me to school because it’s faster and I can’t get another tardy. The secretary will be furious if I show up late any more this week. She might even double my detention time, just for the heck of it. Some people don’t care about how other people feel. Can you imagine?

This is the first time I’ve ever been driven to school. I used to go to school on my own. I always liked that. But now it has to be different. All because of the wheelchair. All because of that one kid. All because of the bully.

We arrive at school five minutes before the first bell, perfect. I will be able to get to class right on time. My mom stops the car, gets out and tells me, “Stay there for a second, I’ll help you into the wheelchair.” She takes my wheelchair out from the trunk. My mom lifts my legs and carefully places them into the chair. We wave goodbye and she drives off. Kids pour into the school from all over. Unfortunately the ramp is coated with a fresh layer of ice. Normally I would find salt on the ramp, today I find none. On my first try to get up, I make it about two feet up, then my wheels spin backwards and I roll to the bottom.

“Alright,” I think. “Time to try again.” This time I make it halfway up and roll back down. There’s only one way I can get all the way up: someone needs to push me. I start to ask people if they can help me, but no one even responds. They all glare at me with hatred. They hate me for what I did to that kid. I want to avoid all the stares so I hang my head down. Eventually one of the front office staff comes out and helps me into the school. If I want to have friends that will help me with that stuff I’ll have to start acting nice to people, not being mean anymore. So far, I haven’t done that yet.

2 months earlier…

My left shoulder was propped against the wall on the outside of the boy’s bathroom. I spotted Owen walking down the hall slowly. I sauntered up to him and grabbed him by the cuff of his plaid shirt. I looked down at his face. I could see some left over bruises on his face from the incident two months ago. His breathing got heavier by the second. I led him into one of the stalls in the bathroom. I switched my grip to the back of his short brown hair. I cocked back, and dunked his face into the toilet. He gurgled a few times and some bubbles came up. After that there were one or two coughs, then silence, my work was done. I let go of him, letting him crash to the ground. Walking casually out of the bathroom I heard some coughs and wheezes behind me. I went to the next class and continued the day like any other day.

Chapter Four: Wednesday

Today was as bad as yesterday. I still couldn’t get up the ramp and when I asked for help I still got the same glares from everyone. Again, there was trouble in the hallway. I’m really starting to get a look through my victims’ eyes and, frankly, I don’t like it too much.

I tried to go out of my way to help people today and show them that I’m not all bad. Someone spilled their milk on the table and i got some paper towels and helped them clean it up. Then, they smiled at me. I have to admit, it felt really good. Throughout the week I’ll do some more kind gestures here and there to improve my status at school. I’m starting to realize how difficult it’s going to be to change my ways, and convince people I have changed.

I lay in bed reading my book. It’s almost time to go to sleep. Tomorrow’s Thursday. I have my doctor’s checkup. Will I be able to get out of the wheelchair finally? Will there be any surgeries needed? Any news that I should know? I turn off my bedside lamp and try to go to sleep. My mind is racing with thoughts. I start to count the stars out of my window and eventually I get tired of it and my eyelids draw closed.

Chapter Five: Owen

Last week… I saw Sam coming down the hallway and I could sense trouble. The bruises from four months ago were still healing and they were hurting less and less as each day went by.

Sam approached me the same way he always did. Just looking at him made me feel sick to my stomach. This day wasn’t Sam’s day to torment me. I wouldn’t let it happen for a third time this year.

“So we meet again?” Sam spat the words at me.

“I’m afraid so” I replied. Sam was bigger than me, but I puffed up to look tougher.

“So what'cha gonna do about it?” he asked. I didn’t respond. I didn’t feel like it. I just wanted to get on with my day. Sam was determined that the opposite of that happened. Sam grabbed the collar of my shirt pulling me towards him so we were face to face. I tried to wiggle free but his grip was too strong.

Sam pulled back his hand and clenched it into a fist. This time I was ready, I knew what was coming. Before he reached me, I caught his fist in midair and tugged it down. Sam fell to the ground and all the rage I’d been storing up for who knows how long came pouring out of me. I jumped on top of Sam, pounding away. Sam hit me a couple times but I was in real control. Sam got up once, that’s when I went at his legs. Pounding them, beating them, twisting them. And then, I was done. I wasn’t angry. I walked off to my next class with my chest puffed out and a smile on my face.

Later on I realized that triumphing Sam didn’t make me as proud as I hoped it might. The recurring guilt that came to me got really irritating. My guilt increased when I discovered I put him in a wheelchair. Even though Sam deserved it, what I did would always haunt me.

Chapter Six: Thursday

After school today I will be picked up and taken to the doctor. I was excited last night but now I’m a little nervous. What if I have to stay in my wheelchair forever? I know it’s not likely but it’s possible. My legs have been really sore the past few days so what if there’s something wrong? All the bad possibilities make their way into my mind and I can’t stop them. I know there’s plenty of ways that this appointment could go well but they don’t find their way to my thoughts.