AUTHOR’S NOTE: The term “handicapable” has largely fallen out of favor, and I understand why. Nevertheless, I felt that the very reason it’s considered controversial also makes it the perfect title for this piece…
Sandro sat on his usual bench in the park, across from the duck pond, and watched a man tap his way along the path with a white cane. He was pulling a large wagon, the kind landscapers used to move plants around. It was empty.
The man paused, turned. Sandro felt seen, despite the man’s dark glasses.
He slid over. The man sat.
The air hummed with the sounds of traffic, passers-by, and the occasional duck. For a long while, both men seemed content to listen.
“…knows I’m lactose intolerant, so why would she put milk in it? Hang on a second—“ A passing woman talking on her phone bent down and made a chittering noise to a squirrel. The squirrel chittered back and began loping alongside her. “—this little guy gets it, so why is it so hard for…”
A man walked by, shoulders sagging, eyes downcast. A woman walked beside him. “…but I don’t think that at all, I think you’re a very giving person—“
The man pulled something improbably long from his jacket pocket, and the air was filled with the smell of cinnamon. “Churro?” he asked.
“See? And yes, that absolutely counts!” the woman said with a laugh. He gave a small laugh in reply, but his shoulders sagged a little less. The pair walked on.
“I’m very good at Nintendo,” the man with the cane said at last.
Sandro watched a duck swim lazily. “I don’t think I’ve heard one like that before.”
“It doesn’t cause me any problems,” the man went on. “The blindness, I mean, with the Nintendo.” He leaned in, as if confessing a secret. “It’s like an instinct. I just know what to do. And I can remember, too, if I get hit by something or fall in a pit. I never make the same mistake twice. Never!”
“You win any awards? Any competitions or…I don’t really play a lot—”
“No, no, they won’t let me compete. They have them, but they say it’s not fair, because of my disability.”
“Well, I don’t think that’s fair either. It’s not like—“
“Oh, it’s not, the way I see it. Ha!” The man snorted. Sandro did too. “Well, if I was born seven feet tall they’d let me play basketball. I don’t see how it’s any different.”
“You were born blind?”
“Oh. Well, no, that happened later. I won’t go into it; it was just one of those things. But still, I don’t think it’s right. It’s not like I signed up for it, you know?”
“Not fair.”
“It’s not.”
“That’s how it goes.” Sandro sighed. “You know how things are.”
“Not good, I’ll tell you that much.”
“No. Not at all.”
A young couple passed by, holding hands. Both had hair that slowly shifted color, red to green, orange to purple. Sandro smiled. It was nice when people found each other.
“How about you?” the man asked.
“Me?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to assume…” The man was suddenly embarrassed.
Sandro laughed. “Oh, no, no, no, it’s fine. Actually, I can’t walk.”
“Oh! That’s got to be a hard one.”
“Well, it’s not great, but it’s not that bad.”
“How do you get around? Wheelchair, or—”
“Funny you should mention it!”
“How so?”
Sandro looked at the empty wagon. “You a gardener?”
“No—well, not anymore, no. It was just a hobby. I was going to a friend’s place, to drop off the wagon. Too big for a little apartment.”
“You think I could get a ride?”
The blind man turned as if to look at Sandro. He imagined the man’s eyes were wide behind the dark lenses, sightless or not.
“I…don’t see why not. Well, I mean…where are you going?”
Sandro told him.
A minute later, after some maneuvering between the wagon and the bench, the blind man took the handle and pulled, tapping his way along.
“I’m Roger,” he said.
“Sandro.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, what’s your…I mean, your legs. So what did you get, you know, in return? Not that it’s a trade, or fair…” he said, hastily.
Sandro smiled. “I always manage to get a ride,” he said. “That’s it.”
“That’s it?” Roger’s shoulders shook as he laughed. “Well, that is quite the exchange.”
“It comes in handy.”
“I’m sure I can still beat you at Nintendo.”
“I’m sure of it.”
The wagon wheels turned, Roger tapped his cane, Sandro held on, and together they made their way across town.
