The world's bitterest love story.

A couple weeks ago I volunteered to accompany my sister's Special Ed class on a field trip. This is an experience I had, as I wrote it down a few days later.

You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll wish you had been there.






1.30.2010

I have little idea of what to expect. I can’t even remember what time I am supposed to show up—did she mean they should leave for the field trip at 8:30 or I should come at 8:30 in order to observe the class before the field trip? I told her that I would come early—was 8:30 early? On time?

Now early in any sense of the word seems regrettable. I pull at the skin under my eyes, trying to make them open a bit wider. An attempt to erase traces of night shift from my face, from my memory, from existence: futile.

I run into an old friend and try to look chipper. I sign my name, receive directions to Mrs. Carr’s room and act like I know my way around the school. I’ve only been here once before. Chaperoning Michelle’s homecoming dance. And one other time, bringing Danielle’s friend her phone charger, but I was in and out in a matter of seconds. Hardly even counts.

Luckily the walls are marked with signs: Rooms 100 – 110. I follow arrow clues and suspenseful numbers all the way to one-oh-seven: Mrs. Carr’s.

We meet. She looks nothing like I thought she might—very small. And kind of pretty. I remember how she told me that she undertook Special Education for the money. Who does Special Education for the money? We shake. We take turns mentioning how much Michelle talks about the other, how nice it is to finally meet after our conversation on the phone, how excited we each are for field tripping. She relieves me of my bag, tucks it away in a closet behind her desk, bids me follow her to the student in gym class. Gym class. Now I’m taken up by a wind of suggestions and following orders. Down the hallway again and we run into a few stragglers. A hefty smiley blonde, Kirsten, herding two students towards a ramp that ascends into a land of sweaty bodies and physical exertion. One of them hides her eyes from me, turning her entire body away, and clings to a small red cooler as though it were breathing. More introductions, more shaking and Mrs. Carr goes back the way we came. Paige is the one holding the cooler so tightly against her chest. Takes ice to the nurse on B days. Instead of looking at me, she hugs me. Apparently they’re working on that one.

I’m Ashley. Typical courtesies. Yes, I’m Michelle’s sister.

That’s
my name
too. 

An unnoticed, cramped voice from below sounds high wonderment through its owner’s nose. She’s sitting. In the hall way? In a wheel chair. Pinched features on a wide, freckled face look nearly worried (always nearly worried, I discover as the day wears on, as though longing for something slightly difficult to remember) as she peers at me through thick-rimmed black frames. Brown moppy hair and a lumpy sweat suit. She seems a soft heap of disarray. And sincerity.

Really?

Yes.
That means
we’re
friends.

How do you
spell it?

A-S-H-L-E-Y.

Oh.
Mine is spelled
A-S-H
L-A-Y.

Oh. That’s a good way to spell it. We’re almost the same. Seeing her awakens me slightly. I can’t help but converse with greater enthusiasm as we up the inclination. To my surprise, she takes the ramp on her own, wheeling herself with strength that her pillowy looks deny.
 
Look how strong you are! Maybe I could do that. Maybe.

She used to pull herself up it with her feet. Kristen. But she broke her leg and had to start using her arms instead. It was pretty incredible how fast she’d go. I watch and try to imagine her legs long enough to yabba-dabba-doo herself to the top.

Did you know
I
used to
live in
Oregon?

I didn’t. How long ago did you move here?

I think
maybe
about
six months ago.

On flat ground again. Nothing fazes her. We enter a small weight room on our left. Leaving explicit instructions for Ashlay to do her arm workout, Kirsten and Paige move on to the gym. She knows what to do, Kirsten insists, catching eyebrows I didn’t even have time to raise on her way out.

I wait for Ashlay to do something, unsure. She wheels close to the bench press equipment I lean against and picks up an elastic band at its base. This she takes to another machine, where she grabs the two handles and flings the middle around a vertical bar. Barely catches it. I finish pulling it on for her.
She goes to work when the chair’s brakes are set, pulling the handles toward her.
No wonder you’re so strong. Do you do this a lot?

Yeah.

The pulls are unpredictable. For the first few movements her right and left arms are coordinated. Then they begin to alternate. Then a small pause. Now together again.

Did you know
I have
a boyfriend?

Really!

But he’s
in Portland.

Portland?

Yeah. I
used to live
there.

Ohh. How long have you been dating him?

Since kindergarten.

That’s a long time!

Yeah.
He just asked me
one day if
I wanted
to be his girlfriend and
I said yes.

Ahh. Have you talked to him since you moved?

My mom’s
cell phone.

You talked to him on your mom’s cell phone?

I just
tried to
call
but he didn’t answer so
I just
left a message.

What did you say in the message?

I said
hi it’s your
girlfriend.
Bye.

A short pause.

I
love him.

Her hands drop to her lap, mid-pull.
You do!

But I didn’t
get to
tell him that
before
I left.

And the burden drops her chin to her chest.
Ohh no. I look at her, slumped over. The worried look has deepened above and around her eyes. It seems so real to her.

Yeah.

Another short pause. She resumes pulling again.

I
hope he hasn’t broken
up with me.

And here I have no more words because I am too busy drawing my eyebrows together and up. Even mere acknowledgments fail me.

I
will be so sad
if he has.

Probably he would tell you if he wanted to.

Yeah.
I will be
sad
if he has.

Now bittersweet tragedy makes me smile slightly.
Well, since he hasn’t said anything to you about it, that probably means he hasn’t.

Yeah.

She stops pulling on the elastic again.
How many of these arm exercises do you do?

Uhh
three sets.

I couldn’t tell where sets ended in her sporadic work. How many have you done already?

One.

Adjusting her grip with renewed determination, she is at it again.
Does it burn?

No.

After finishing her three sets, she unlocks her brakes and wheels herself a hamstring machine while I send the elastic home. For a moment I worry. The machine she chooses registers and I worry that I will have to lift her 20 year-old body out of her chair alone. I worry that I’ll drop her, that I won’t be strong enough. I worry that perhaps she’s doing something she shouldn’t be—hamstrings are definitely not part of the arms.

My mouth opens to voice as another class assistant walks over, adjusts the machine to its lightest setting, and leaves again. Ashlay, instead of looking to me for heavy lifting, positions herself behind the opposable extension and starts lifting it upward and back down again, with two hands. In that same, erratic pattern. Relieved, I straddle the bench opposite her and watch.

As she uses her arms, kids from another class—an average class—begin to file into the weight room next to ours and she watches them through the glass that walls between.

I like boys with
muscles.

The words bubble from her lips, a giggled confession.
My face curls in spite of itself. Is that why you like Toby? Does he have big muscles?

I don’t know.

Beat.

But that’s why he likes me.

2009 and Me

An affair for the ages, I'd say. Here's how it went down:

January

the marriage of Chris & Corey. had a minor breakdown early on in the semester when I discovered that I had to drop all my beautiful writing classes and take 18 credits of stinkier ones, but ultimately decided that Special Education was still worth it. our wild rumpus of a year began with the first ever Dare Night.

February

was finally accepted in to the Special Education major--and felt great about it! Also, Brie made it in to the art program, which called for a double celebration.

March

studying, learning Romanian, reading Levinas, etc.

April

finals. goodbye to great roommates and the blue house. goodbyes to my family, who are growing used to this sort of thing now. embarked overseas to the mysterious land of Romania. settled in to my new, quirky apartment.

May

familiarized myself with Romania. made surprising friends in the Iasi branch through peculiar means. attended two Romanian baptisms. found myself in the dancu apartment: one part frustration, two parts laughter, three parts adorable. ran. a lot. saw my first European circus. took a weekend trip to the prettiest corner of Romania: Maramures. I've never seen so much beautiful greenery in all my life. here the men tip their hats at you as you walk by and stray chicken run across the road.

June

continued work with the kids. visited several monasteries near Iasi. made a mid-semester pilgrimage to Brasov with Trish and Rands. filled a week and a half with unbelievable raucousness and met some of the most interesting people.

July

turned 21 and celebrated by playing BS with shots of warm carbonated water. saw Harry Potter 6 in theaters. gave a talk in Romanian in church that went somewhat awry. [so humiliating!] organized and held a mini girl's camp as a part of my calling in the branch as YW activities coordinator.

August

said the hardest goodbye i may ever say. cried my guts out. traveled around a bit in Vienna, Prague, Munich, and Salzburg. landed on American soil. renewed my driver's license. took Michelle's senior pictures. flew to the Alaska State Fair to flip burgers and dip dogs at Dean's Corndog Corner for a few weeks.

September

moved in to the world's most adorable house. began school again; fell in love with my classes, fell in love with my professors, fell in love with my future in Special Education. started my new job at the Writing Center--man, i love that place. [check out the podcast.] adventured for a few days with my dear Courty who traveled all the way from Auburn to see me! roadtripped to Rupert for Brie's farewell.

October

fall happened. Tuffy moved in for a while. went home for Nigel's homecoming. decided to start work on my mission papers. had a weekly Sunday D.P. (dance party) in our living room in front of the open window. ran in to a bout of carbon monoxide poisoning and hung out in a hyperbalic chamber for a few days, yet still had time to save the galaxy (or at least a big, happening party) with my main man han solo as princess leia for Halloween. all in a day's work.

November

hosted a mini Christmas party early enough that I think we made Thanksgiving feel bad. we just couldn't wait! spent Thanksgiving reading the Hunger Games and chowing down with the fam in Salt Lake City.

December

ate my first protein burger at the new In-N-Out in Provo for the first time. perused a very eclectic, very awesome Beehive Bazaar, where we picked up some gifts for all our little sister missionaries out in the field. saw my visiting teacher perform in the musical Savior of the World, which took me back to the Holy Land for a couple of hours. finals. goodbyes again. packing again. had wisdom teeth removed and have probably never been more talkative or more of a crybaby. drove home. took this mission photo. Christmas festivities of all sorts--Chris and Corey even came. slept in past 8 on Christmas morning, which is unheard of, with positive feedback from the old Saint himself. rang in the new year at Merrits. Classic.

whew.

who even knows where I'll be in 2011?!