We Belong: Chapter 25

959 words

7 minute read

JUST LIKE ME

(Lexie)

TW: Ableism

The worst thing about this Sunday school class is that Jesse and I have to share it with Sophia.  But I can’t even think about that right now.  I can’t even pay attention to how rude Sophia is being to Jesse, taunting him to “Say something!”

Usually, I would be there.  Usually, I would speak up.  Take the pressure off him and get her to talk about My Little Pony because she is obsessed with that.  But now I can’t stop thinking about Mom.

"We don't speak to each other like that."  The Sunday school teacher warns.  (Oh, my goodness.  She's talking to Sophia.)

"He's just my cousin," Sophia says, waving her hand, like cousins don't matter.

"All the more reason to be kind," the Sunday school teacher says back.  "No more of that in my class, Sophia, or you're going to timeout."

Sophia's mouth drops open.  

A boy pokes me.  “Hey.  Why are you and him in those things?”

I ignore him.  It’s the worst, being in class with all younger kids.  At least Seth has his own class.  But honestly, Seth is nicer about our chairs than these kids are being and he is only three.  They could learn some manners from him.

“Eyes up here.  When I was growing up, my first grade teacher taught us MYOBP.  That's short for Mind Your Own Business, Please.” the teacher says.

She’s a grown up but a young one.  She has reddish hair.  She’s handing out coloring sheets for everybody.  I don’t even care about not getting the colors I want.  I just color with whatever ones no one else is using.  It’s a picture of a lamb and a lion.

[Image: Crayons]

I don’t take my time.  I don’t focus.  But it’s not because I don’t want to.  It’s because I can’t.  I can’t stop thinking about what Mom said to uncle Craig.

I hate that Mom is disappointed in me.  

Doesn’t she know I’m trying as hard as I can?  

I do all the exercises even though they make me cry and hurt a lot.  

I walk in my walker even though it takes up every bit of my energy, even to stand up straight and extra to take steps in the super heavy casts.  (We got lighter ones now.  Mine have yellow and pink stripes this time.  Jesse got all purple. I saw in his card from Shane that Shane suggested that.)

It makes me think of how weird Jesse's being.  Not telling me anything.  Ever since Connor and Shane came over and played, it's been happening.  None of them even came in my room to say hi to me.

I shake my head.  It's like I can't hold all the badness.  Shane and Connor ignoring me, plus Mom being disappointed?  It's too much.

I wish I could tell Mom I’m doing my best.  I wish having a kid like me didn’t make her so sad.  I wish I could be okay enough to just belong like everyone else.  But I know even with this surgery that can never happen.  I will always have CP.  I will always be different.  I wonder if anybody knows how much I want to be the same?

I glance up when I hear chairs scraping back from the table.  Class is over, and I’m still holding a black crayon in my hand.  I haven’t even started coloring.  I put it back in the box and leave my picture on the table.  Jesse is gone.  Sophia is gone.  The whole class is empty except...

“I’m Emma,” the Sunday school teacher introduces.  She said her name at the beginning of class, but I wasn’t listening then.

“I’m Lexie,” I say sadly.

“You seem sad, Lexie.  Is there anything I can do to help?”

Emma seems so nice.  I wipe my eyes roughly with my hands and make myself not listen to the niceness.  “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I might,” she says, and pushes back her chair.  And that’s when I see Emma bend down and pick something up from the floor.

Crutches, just like mine at home.

She walks to a chair close to me and I see it.  It’s more than the crutches, which are a boring gray color.  She moves like me, too.  Like her muscles get confused sometimes.  She sits down and  waits, like she has all day, and nowhere to be.  

I want to tell her my crutches are pink.  I want to ask Emma if she has CP like me.  I want to know if Emma’s mom ever felt disappointed that she couldn’t walk like everybody else.  If she ever had to have surgery.  If she knows how hard it is after.  I have so many questions.  I open my mouth to start asking them, and I hear little feet running into the room behind me.

Darn.

“Lex, come on!  Dad says time to go,” Seth calls, running in and grabbing onto my hand.

“Sorry,” I say, as Seth tries to push the huge hospital wheelchair from behind, with big groans.

“This chair is so heavy!  Lexie, you ate too much doughnuts!” Seth grunts.

I laugh, even though I don’t want to, because I know what Seth is saying is the opposite of true.  I’m always the smallest kid in class.  Sometimes, uncle Craig calls me Skinny.

“See you next week?” Emma asks.

“Yeah,” I nod, helping Seth push.  “I hope so.”

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Questions for Discussion:

How do you think Jesse feels when Sophia is making fun of him, trying to make him talk?

Have you ever met an adult like you?  How did you feel?

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