The Finishing Strokes

Regina Wade clutched her notebook for dear life as she walked into the room. This was English class, her heart and soul. Today was her day to shine as they were studying poetic forms. She had everything planned and practiced. The only thing that she had to do was write.

Her life seemed perfect from the outside but in reality, it was utter hell. That's why she wrote. To release the pressure that threatened to break her like a hammer to a sheet of glass. All of her classmates knew her by two nicknames- Pitbull and Scalpel. Both were references to her overly fierce and precise writing style and personality. No one knew how truly accurate those nicknames actually were, especially the second one. Hidden under her conservative looking blazer, T-shirt and jeans, was a roadmap of scars and memories she'd rather have forgotten. But she didn't regret a single thing because that made her who she was-a fiercely unfiltered, slightly rebellious, steel hearted, devoted and brilliant young lady.  

    Well, maybe she did regret one thing- the tree planted in her honor senior year of high school. The tree was a result of an award she believed they gave her for all the wrong reasons. You see, Regina had one major thing separating her from most of the people who were her classmates-she was physically disabled, but she still had a brain. That was the unfair part of the tree planted in her honor. Her family believed the award that the tree was planted for was given to her because of the fact that she was physically disabled, not because of the things she did in spite of it. At least, that was what her stepmother had said when she came home from school two days before the award was given. She came home to a hell storm that day. Her stepmother asked her to explain why she would be recognized at her high school’s senior night when her sister, who was graduating early and was starting her first year at a university, wasn't getting recognized but Regina was when she was an average student with a B-C GPA of 2.5.  She couldn't explain the situation because she knew nothing about it. 

   “Momma, I know nothing about this. Your guess is as good as mine. I wasn't even expecting to be recognized for senior night. I honestly thought that Brandi would have been because she's graduating early this year. Honestly, Mom, I know nothing.”, Regina said, the shock causing her voice to rise in both pitch and volume. That was a mistake as her mother took her behavior as guilt.

       “Regina, I looked up the award you're being given after the sponsor, who is your IEP coordinator, called me and told me you were getting it. It's just a ploy so that the school looks good, and you get something for nothing.” 

      “Really, Mom? I can't talk about it.  I have a ton of homework and final exams to study for. We can't all be like Brandi.”, Regina said flatly, before turning on her heel and walking towards the dining room table. Brandi was sitting at the table when Regina walked in, took her backpack off her shoulders, set it and her crutches on the floor, sat down in the chair across from her sister, unzipped her backpack, pulled out her English binder and textbook, and put it on the table with a thud. Her sister noticed the force with which Regina dropped her textbook on the table and said,

      “Hey, what's wrong? You look like you're going to explode.” 

     “I'm getting an award when we have senior night, and Mom thinks it's BS. How are you? That history final was killer, wasn't it?”

    “Yeah, it was, but I think I did okay. What's rattling you? It's more than that award you're getting, I can tell. I saved your life, remember?”

    “How could I forget? I nearly died and got left with my head half shaved, which you thought was hilarious.”, Regina said as she ran her right hand through her hair and her index finger reflexively touched the shunt valve in the top of her head like the neurosurgeons taught her when she was in the hospital. “Great, just fucking great, I forgot my damned notes. I'll never get them back. Some asshole idiots will take them because they wanna cheat off me. Can I use yours? Just so I can make a second copy for me to study for the final. Thanks, B.”, Regina said as her sister passed the notes across the table. Regina scanned the sheet with a practiced eye as she wrote out her copy, finishing in what seemed like record time, and handed the sheet back to her sister across the table. By the way, my beloved sister, Joy Harjo wrote Perhaps the World Ends Here, not Hemingway. Hemingway wrote The Old Man and the Sea.  You miswrote that in your notes. “ 

    “See? That's why you're going to end up chasing an English degree. You've got the head for those things no one else really remembers. I wouldn't have known enough to correct it and then I would have lost points when we were graded. Thanks for the save, Sis.”

    “You're welcome. Glad to be of use.” 

Regina opened her textbook and halfheartedly tried to study but her mind was on the award that she was being given. What if Mom's right? What if they gave me the award just because my legs are fucked up? Then it would be a reminder not of what I've accomplished but a reminder that I'm different from everyone else. I refuse to be a marshmallow poster child. I want people to remember me for what I've done with my disability, not the diagnosis itself. I've spent the past eighteen years surpassing expectations. It's just a tree, isn't it? I don't know what to think anymore. How am I supposed to feel? The thoughts raced through Regina's head so fast, the room spun, and she had to rest her head on the table. She realized she was face down in her textbook when she inhaled a breath, and she tasted paper. 

        Smooth moves Regina, smooth moves. Everyone says you're a bookworm, but you don't have to take it literally. Regina finally finished her studies just before dinner. Her father walked in from work and asked about her day. It made her happy to hear his voice as he explained what he did that day because his job was never boring even though he was an HVAC engineer. It made Regina sad when she saw the brazing burn scars on his arms and hands because she knew that he worked extremely hard for very little payoff. He had been an engineer for her entire life and then some. He was brilliant.

All of his brilliance in the field was eventually passed to her brother but not her. She was more like her mother and stepmother, good with words and books rather than her hands. 

     “Dad, did Mom tell you about senior night? I apparently have to accept an award.” 

    “She did, Regina, she did. I, unfortunately, agree with her. Planting a tree because you're disabled is an injustice and disservice to you and the disabled students who will follow after you. But it's done, so you have to accept the award and then prove you're more than that. It's been this way for your entire life and unfortunately will still be part of your life when you become an adult.” 

      “Dad, I didn't want this tree. Hell, if anything, Brandi should be up there getting an award, not me. You taught me better than this.”

    “I know I did, Regina. And I know you're better than the tree. You're my daughter. I taught you to earn what you have and every breath you take.  You came into the world fighting, so that's how you'll leave it.” 

    “I know, Dad, I know. We don't know how to ring the bell, remember?”

      Regina finished dinner and cleared the table for her brother, who was on dishwashing duty for the week. She smiled at her brother who was playing rock music while he was washing dishes. She loved her brothers and sister so much it hurt. She headed upstairs to her bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Her thoughts were racing again, and she couldn't get her head quiet. What do I do here? If I do this and accept the award, I violate everything I've been taught. If I don't, then I save my pride but then everyone hates me because I look like an ungrateful ass. God, I hate being me. Regina woke up the next morning with a newfound resolve to be true to herself as a disabled woman. She aced her final exams, planted the tree, and applied to college. She chased the English degree of her dreams, and she wrote just like her sister said she would.