How Rachel Got Her Wheels

As the movie ended, we rolled off the couch and stretched. "This must have been the third time we have watched the Thorn Birds this year," I yawned. "The book was infinitely better," I said as I hit Kyle with a pillow. This started an unrelenting pillow fight and even a more unrelenting clean up. When everything was picked up, Kyle announced he was going to take a shower. I went to the bedroom and looked over the new clothes I had just bought for my long-planned trip to London. I excitedly examined each piece and imagined what I would wear each day. I folded the clothes back neatly and placed them on the dresser.

As I pulled the bed spread back, avoiding Kyle's service revolver. “Bang!” The hairs on my arms were standing on end, I could feel my heart start racing. I grabbed the phone and called 911. I barely got the words out of my mouth and another Bang! There was nowhere for me to go. I was trapped in the corner of the bedroom. I heard Kyle shouting my name. A woman was standing at the door and she had a gun in her hand and my only option was to turn around. The sound of the gun was deafening in the tiny bedroom. There was no pain just a seizing inside me that made it hard to breath. Bang, she fires again. This time I collapse to the ground with the phone in my hand. Still conscious, I did not make a sound. I pretended I was dead. I heard her running through the house shouting she’s dead, she’s dead. Kyle was still shouting my name. I heard the 911 operator on the other line. I didn’t dare say a word.

It is quiet, but only for a moment and the next thing I hear is the sounds of two people wrestling on the bed. Kyle left his service revolver at the foot. Both sounded worn out by injury or emotion the way they were huffing and puffing, fighting for the revolver. I remained as still as possible until I noticed a metallic object poking out between the mattress and the box spring, it was another gun. I pulled it out and checked the safety. I heard a thump on the other side of the bed, someone had fallen off. I pulled my head up as best as I could to the edge of the bed and looked over. The woman was staring back at me. Without even thinking, I aimed the gun at her and shot. She disappeared behind the bed, her body hitting the dresser, I knew I hurt her. I relaxed and slid back on the floor. I must have lost consciousness because the next thing I remember were many worried faces looking down at me. Faces of policemen and paramedics. I was saved.

They gently lifted me out of the corner, carried me to the gurney and placed me in the ambulance. I asked about Kyle, but no one could give me an answer. I know I can’t feel my legs, but I am not sure what else had happened to me. “Please don’t let me die,” I said to the paramedics. They smiled and reassured me that I would be fine. Somehow, I didn't think that was completely true.

“Good evening gentlemen,” I said as I handed out menus. “Good evening Rachel,” said Officer Andrew Taylor. The Irish Pub where I worked was a hub for locals, tourists and especially the Monroe county sheriff’s office. The cops got half price like most restaurants offer in the Florida Keys. “This is a new recruit to the force, Kyle Mann,” Andrew explained. “This is Rachel,” pointing to me with the menu as he introduced me. “She is the best damn server in the Pub,” I blushed and took their drink orders and then their orders for dinner. The rest of the evening was busy but went smoothly and after my shift, I stayed for a drink talking to the locals and waited for my room mates.

My room mates, Kate and Jenny waited on tables in other restaurants on the island where we rented a house. Kate walked in alone and told me that Jenny had a rough night and wouldn’t make it. We had a few drinks and I told her about the new cop in town. “Not bad looking,” I told her, but like most of the cops in the Keys, they are looking for a good time. After we had our fill, we got on our bicycles to go home. A car appeared out of nowhere, and poor Kate almost lost it in the gravel. It was Officer Mann. I introduced him to my roommate. He was off duty and was looking to have a drink. We told him the place was hopping and to have a good time. He looked a bit disappointed but wished us a good night. “Hmm, not bad,” said Kate. “He should watch how he drives,” I told her.

The next day at work I found flowers in my storage bin. No note, nothing. I asked around and Juan the line cook piped up with a smirk, " It was dropped off by a cop I hadn’t seen before." I didn’t think much about it until he came in that night with two other officers, Leslie Tate and Andrew. Leslie was the only female on the force. I took their orders but did not mention the flowers. The next day I received flowers again, but this time with a note. He asked if I was available for a drink after work. He didn’t come in that night, but there he was when I left to go home. We went to a bar with a Gulf view, a pleasant breeze and they weren’t playing Parrot Head music. We talked until the place closed.

Now, he wasn’t tall with chiseled good looks. He stood about five foot ten, had red hair, blue eyes and a great smile. He was also eleven years older than me. I find looks secondary in a person who is intelligent with a good sense of humor. He was a good listener, and pretty much a boy scout. I on the other hand, did not bring up all my bad habits (which were many), mostly because he was a cop.

He got to know me intimately. He supported me with my addictions, mainly helping me to quit smoking cigarettes and drinking. We took road trips through the Keys and went fishing, swimming and boating. Even though I was 23 and he was 34, we could still keep each other intellectually and physically inspired and I still got flowers every day at work. He didn’t hide the fact that he was enamored with me. I really thought this was the real deal. I was wrong.

When I woke up in ICU. I was strapped to a bed that kept turning from side to side. This was to prevent me from getting bed sores. I tried to move, but I couldn’t no matter how I pulled on the straps. I spent a week in that bed and eventually was moved to a room of my own. I remained in the hospital in Miami for almost three weeks. When I was moved to rehab, I eventually realized that I was paralyzed from the chest down. I had never seen my father cry before, but the doctor told him that there were many new therapies coming down the pike and that I should be walking in five years. Kyle had been sent to a closer hospital because his gun shot wounds were more severe. He was out of the hospital in a couple of weeks. As for Sara, she died on the scene.

Sara was Kyle's wife. She lived in Ohio and even though he filed for divorce, she wasn’t going to let him go.

I was surrounded by my family and friends through my hospitalization and then the three months of rehab. I even had two friends come from as far away as South Korea and Greece to check on my progress. I was brought food and drink, and lots of moral support. I was able to get out of the hospital to go to my best friend’s wedding. I spent some weekends with my room mates. I was given a bunny to keep in my hospital room with me, not exactly the most sensible idea, but Theodore, kept me company even though I had to clean up the mess. I was kept busy in rehab with Occupational and Physical therapy. This helped cure my mind and body. I was an enthusiastic patient. Ultimately, I was able to navigate living in wheelchair and was strong enough to drive using hand controls. When I got back home, I found that my room mates and friends had converted the house so that it was wheelchair accessible with ramps and grab bars. I couldn’t have been more grateful.

Kyle wanted this relationship to continue. He would pick me up on some weekends. He was making plans for the future, but I couldn’t get passed the deception. How could I trust him after he never told me he was married to begin with? Our relationship, gratefully fizzled out.

It has been over thirty-six years since that night. I don’t dwell on it anymore. This experience was difficult because I was put in a position where I had to kill another human being. I was able to find new direction in my life. I went to school and became a teacher for thirty years. I have traveled extensively and eventually married; all while being confined to a wheelchair. I might not have had the opportunity to the life that I am enjoying now. I have had moments when I felt sorry for myself however, when I think what the outcome could have been. I consider myself very lucky. By the way,

I did go to London and Scotland too!!

I met my first husband there, but this is a story for another time.

I am Rachel aka Mama Wheels.