Beyond the Pain

The railing was now on my right. But, I was going up. Not down. Kenny had said going up was easier. Less scary. I remembered the SSB stairwell. Going up was absolutely less scary. I had to try. It was the middle of the day. No one was going to come by. To help me.

I was on my own. Facing the stairs. If I wanted to get to my aparment I would have to ascend these stairs. May as well try.

I placed my cane on the first riser. Anchored it firmly. Lifted my left leg seven inches. Placed it on the first riser. Planted it. Firmly. I gripped the railing firmly. Pulled my right leg up. The seven inches. Planted my right foot firmly. On the riser.

One step beaten. Forty steps to go.

Half an hour later I was on the third floor landing. Opened the landing door. Using the cane trick I had mastered. Walked across to my aparment door. Put my key in the lock. Turned it to the left. Turned the door handle. To the right. Did my cane trick. Pushed the door open. Inward.

Walked into my apartment. The door closed behind me. Automatically. I leaned the cane against the stub wall. Beside the apartment door. Next to the kitchen.

I limped past the entry closet. Turned right. Limped into the master bedroom. Flopped down on the bed. Clothes on.

I was tired. Exhausted. Like a baby after walking two paces. Like a toddler after running all day. Like a farmer after eighteen hours plowing.

I fell asleep. And, dreamed.

Pre-publication Draft — Copyright Lyle T. Lachmuth, All Right Reserved

The door was locked. Duh! I had remembered my keys. But could I open the very heavy door. On the way out I had simply pressed the handle down. Pushed the door open. Fairly easy. Besides I had the hunger driving me.

But pulling the door might be another thing. I had to try. How else could I get in? I inserted my front door key. Twisted it to the right. Braced my left hand and my cane against the left hand door. Pulled the right hand door towards me. Christ! It moved slowly. It was bloody heavy. Half way through its travel I switched my hand. From pulling the handle to pushing the back of the door. About two feet above the handle. I limped through the door. Turned left. Into the corridor. Limped along it. Passed the laundry. Someone was doing laundry. I could smell the putrid stink of fabric softener. Turned left.

Faced the door to the stairwell. Opened the door. To the right. Limped into the landing area. Now it was not a challenge I faced.

It was a dilemma.

Pre=Publication Draft Copyright 2016 Lyle T. Lachmuth, All Rights Reserved