A Wheelchair In The Woods

  My siblings and I never had a little red wagon. We had a wheelchair.
When I was seven we lived in a house that had 136 acres of woods behind it. We loved to play in the woods, but my brother would have lived in them had he been allowed. He was always going off and building forts and traps. My parents only allowed him to go as far from the house as he could hear our dad yell. Fortunately for him that was quite a ways, because my brother has always had excellent hearing - almost bionic. My sister and I were not allowed to go as far, because she was only three and I had brittle bones. One day my brother came in after an hour out in the woods.

"I have a surprise for you guys, but we need to get your wheelchair, cause it's kinda far," my brother told me.

  Even though I could walk, my legs were short and I would tire easily. The wheelchair was in the kitchen. My brother went into his room and a few minutes later, he came back with a folded blanket and an box with a few items. He sat them on the wheelchair.

"We need some supplies for our fort," my brother said, giving away his surprise.

"You made us a fort?" I squealed.

"Uh no, I meant . . . it's a secret, you can't tell mom, she'll say, 'no you can't go there,'" he insisted, knowing full well that where he was taking us was not allowed.

  Our mother came out of the laundry room just as my brother and I were getting into the pantry.

"What's going on?" She asked, seeing the box and blanket sitting in my wheelchair.

"We wanna have a picnic," I lied, "mommy will you make us some pbj's?"

  Soon, our mother had whipped up a nice picnic of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sliced apples and cheese, pink frosted animal crackers and three juice boxes.

"Want me to set up a pallet outside?" she asked.

"No thanks, we got it," my brother insisted and we pushed our box of goods (my brother managed to sneak a lighter and a kitchen knife into his pockets) outside.

  We knew our mom was in her room folding laundry, so she wouldn't see us make our way into the woods. I don't remember how long we walked. A couple of times, I had to help my brother get the wheelchair unstuck from a mud hole, pick up fallen items or use the kitchen knife to cut thorny branches away from the wheelchair's tires.

"I should have brought the bug sprayer," I said, when my little sister kept fussing over her 'itchies.'

"Are we lost?" I asked, when my brother stopped and looked around for a moment.

"No, wait here," my brother said, and ran ahead, down a slope and out of view.

Immediately our little sister began to panic. She started to cry. I called out to our brother,

"You need to come back, sissy is scared."

"Found it!" my brother's voice called, "I'm coming."

  A few moments later, my brother led us to a steep dirt slope. We worked together to get the chair down the decline, with our sister dragging the supplies box on a blanket along the ground. When we reached the bottom my brother directed us to the side of the hill. There was a hole just big enough for the three of us to fit in if we all sat cross-legged with our knees touching. My brother had lined the walls and ceiling with sheets of rusted tin, "to keep it from collapsing."

  We unloaded the supplies: our picnic, a playskool color-changing flashlight, a couple of G.I. Joe's (for intimidation purposes), a dog whistle to call a dog to come fight off bad guys or other dangerous animals, a knife and a lighter just in case we had to stay the night, we'd have a campfire.

"This is the coolest fort ever!" I said, as we enjoyed our snacks.

  My brother sat in the doorway of the fort to give my sister and I more room.

"Yeah, I'm not done," he boasted, "I'm gonna build a tree house in that tree," he pointed to one directly across from us. It had many thick branches.

  We started making plans then about how we were all going to improve the forts and I was excited to be taking on this project with my brother. After a while my brother perked up and listened carefully.

"Uh-oh, mom is calling," he announced.

"I'm too tired to push the wheelchair up the hill," I whined.

"Yeah, me too," my brother agreed. "Let's just leave it here. We can get it tomorrow when we bring more stuff for the fort."

  Not giving it another thought, my brother put our sister on his shoulders and we hurried home as quickly as we could. When we got in the house our mother greeted us with an anxious rebuke.

"Where in the world were you three?" She asked examining the scratches, dirt and bug bites we were covered in.

"In the woods," I admitted.

"Where's the blanket and Tupperware I put your snacks in -- and where is your wheelchair?" she asked, though I think she already knew the answer.

"We were gonna get it tomorrow," my brother explained.

"No, we are gonna get it now," our mother insisted. "Stay with your sister and you girls get in the tub, your brother and I will be right back."

  I watched out of the window as my brother led our mother into the woods to retrieve my wheelchair. After they were out of sight, I got my little sister and myself into the bath. A little while later, my mother returned.

"I cannot believe you left your wheelchair in the woods," my mother laughed in disbelief.

  I giggled too, hoping the she really did find it funny. She did not.

"I'm not laughing because what you did was a joke, I am just beyond understanding why?"

"You went to the fort?" I asked.

"Yes, and you girls are not going out there again, that hill is dangerously steep."

"I know, that's why I left my wheelchair."

  To which my mother had no reply.