4
4
The next day goes as per usual: James wakes up, prepares for the day, goes to the gym, goes to work, eats, checks his messages, and that’s basically it. The only difference today is that he has to leave work an hour earlier to go to the dentist.
His dentist is a very kind man who works in two separate offices; Monday, Wednesday and Friday in the one in East London, and Tuesday and Thursday in the one next to the King’s Cross Station. Today, being a Thursday, the dentist works in the latter one, but since it has stairs and no elevator, he makes a quick detour to go to the office in East London for James’s appointment because that one is accessible.
James hates it when people have to sacrifice their time or make jumps through hoops to meet his needs, he feels a bit guilty because he knows that sometimes people have to compromise with their time or energy or habits in order for him to be comfortable or just able to do whatever he needs and wants to do. It makes him bitter and self-conscious about his helplessness in certain things. And it happens with mundane stuff, like dentist appointments in this case, but also when he wants to go out with his friends and they can’t choose any restaurant or pub or venue because they have to check if the place is accessible for James to be able to enjoy it. And if it’s not they don’t go.
It happened. James always told them that it doesn’t matter: if his friends want to go someplace that is not made for wheelchair users he doesn’t mind, doesn’t want to be the reason behind his friends’ lack of experience. But his friends’ motto has always been “All of us or none of us” since school, so they refuse to go if he cannot join. And, as Mary put it ever so clearly: “If the place is not accessible then it doesn’t deserve our money”.
James feels lucky to have his friends, but it’s so so hard to come to terms with these conflicting feelings: he loves the fact that he doesn’t have to remind or ask to be included, but he hates to be the one posing limitations every time they want to go out.
His therapist called it “the undeserved guilt of the disabled” and it affects every disabled person at some point, or points, in their life. She works with disabled people, she knows what she’s talking about. And she states that it comes from an ableist standpoint rooted in an ableist society that prefers to put the guilt and the burden on the disabled person to gloss over the fact that the society is the one to be at fault for the lack of accessibility.
Marlene also made a point very fair and square when he came out with this discussion: “James, darling, I’ll beat this crap out of you if you don’t stop. It’s not your fault if the world doesn’t care to put a fucking ramp or elevator for the people who need it. So cut with that bullshit. Here’s a beer”.
And his other friends agreed with her.
So yeah, he’s lucky to have his friends. But he’s learnt that lucky is another term he should try to erase from his vocabulary, at least when it comes to things like those aforementioned. Lucky implies something that is not a necessity or a basic human right but rather a privilege or a situation that isn’t a requirement. Just an accessory. Having good friends is not luck. People acknowledging your needs and respecting them is not luck, it’s human decency.
James is working on that. He’s improved a lot in these regards, and he’s doing his best to unlearn certain toxic beliefs.
Some days are easier, some are harder.
Today is a bit harder. There’s no real reason for it to be harder. It just is. And that’s okay too.
His mind sometimes likes to get tangled in negative thoughts and always mingle on the what-ifs: what if I try harder? What if I just suck it up? What if I just put my needs aside and stop demanding that other people accept my terms?
He knows, rationally, that it’s not fair and that it’s all connected to those ableist standards society has always been so eager to shove down everyone's throats.
But, thinking backwards, he’s always been a little bit like that, even before , even in his “previous life”, as he likes to call it: James, the good friend who wants to make his loved ones smile and happy even when feeling down, James, the guy who knows how to make people laugh despite himself, James, the person who would abandon everything if someone he loves needs help, James, the one who was scared that if he didn’t show his good side at all times then everybody would leave him.
Then, he ended up showing a lot of his bad traits, even the ones he didn’t know to possess, and still, his loved ones kept sticking around, so… yeah, lesson learnt.
Another inconvenience of the day - a minor one really - is that he hasn’t heard from Regs. At all.
And okay, maybe he shouldn’t be putting all of that trust and meaning into a stranger, but it started to become a sort of daily comfort, one of those little good things he can drag some positivity from. Maybe it’s not healthy, but James knows that if Regs decided he’s tired of talking to him he would suffer a little bit. It wouldn’t be a tragedy, sure, but… Regs has a place in his heart now. He likes his witty remarks, his sharp humour and he likes it even when he’s mean to him. It’s refreshing. It’s something different.
But yeah, Regs hasn’t written to him; James typed down several texts that he promptly erased immediately after because he didn’t want to appear clingy or obsessed and didn’t want to be always the first one to reach out. But his self-restraint is running thin.
It has been an exhausting day–not for anything in particular, just one of those days where his energy levels are quick to drop, and weariness washes over him as soon as he crosses the entrance to his home.
The only thing he wants to do right now is to slump on the couch in front of the television and not engage with anything until tomorrow morning; but he’s also starving. Too bad dinner doesn’t prepare itself. Maybe he’ll order take-out.
Why adult life has to be so hard?
Before he’s allowed to touch the couch, James wheels around the house to put away some stuff and get out of his working clothes, stopping by the bathroom to empty his bladder and wash up a bit. When he’s about to place an order, his phone starts ringing in his hands. There’s an incoming call from Sirius.
“What’s up, Pads?” James answers with his usual casualty. He’s always happy to hear from Sirius.
“Hey, Prongs! You done with work?”
“Yeah, I got off earlier. Had that dentist appointment”.
“Right! I forgot”.
“You and Moony okay?”
“Fine, fine. Waiting for Moony to come for dinner. He had a meeting to wrap up for his business”.
“Good”.
James puts on his headphones to be able to push his wheelchair around the house and still talk to Sirius. He can feel that something is off with his best friend; Sirius usually talks his ear off when he calls and is never so vague or restrained. There is something that’s bothering him and he clearly wants to talk about it, if James is willing to ask. That’s how it works with Sirius, he needs to be prompted and convinced that he isn’t bothering if he talks about his issues.
“What’s on your mind, Sirius? Just tell me”, James states matter of factly, his voice kind and friendly. No matter how tired he is, he will always be available for Sirius.
He hears a sigh from the other line and a sort of noise of a body slumping against something soft.
“Well, I had an interesting discussion with my brother”.
Okay, that’s new.
“But it was more of a fight if I am being honest” , Sirius adds. “And he said some things… he said a lot of things actually and… And it got me thinking”.
James stops at the kitchen table and rests his hands on the surface, his face twisted in concentration and all his focus on the conversation going on.
“Sirius, you know that everything that happened wasn’t your fault?” James clears out, knowing too perfectly how many times he’s gone through this same topic with Sirius. It’s always something that will haunt his friend, as well as James’s feelings of guilt and burden, so he can’t really blame him.
“I know, James, I know but… he told me that I abandoned him and well… can’t really deny that. I did abandon him”.
“Sirius”. James rubs his eyes under his glasses, inhaling and exhaling deeply as if that act will help him to find the right words. “You were only sixteen”.
“And he was fifteen”.
“You were both kids. And besides, it’s not like he didn’t do anything wrong towards you”.
“He did and yeah, I’m angry. We both did our fair share of shit”.
“Right and he should understand that too. You are both adults now and what happened in the past… I don’t mean that it should be forgotten, but you can work through it”.
James is not really sure how to best help Sirius in this case; he’s never met his brother, he’s only known him through stories and second-hand experience, but Sirius has gone through hell and back for his little brother who, in the end, treated him like shit. That’s why James can’t feel all that empathetic and forgiving towards him. Sure, he was a kid too but Sirius has always had a stronger sense of responsibility when it came to his brother.
“Yeah, but he… He doesn’t seem too eager to do that”.
Sirius’s voice is slightly quivering, James would have missed it if he didn’t know his best friend and where to search for the cracks in his armour.
“Give him some time”, James whispers, not totally believing what he said. He’s not always sure that time is enough or that time can heal everything. Yes, with time he came to accept his problems, but… Well, sometimes people are not always that patient. He surely wasn’t.
“Maybe, Prongs. Maybe. I’m trying my best”.
“Indeed you are”.
“Still on for Saturday?”
“The party? Yeah, sure”.
James is quick to follow Sirius’s sudden change of topic. They’ve always been like that, following one another without one beat, without faltering ever so slightly. They work in synch like a poem with perfect rhymes. And when Sirius changes topics of conversation, it means he’s done talking about something. James already knows Sirius’s brother will come up again sooner or later.
“Great. Moony’s back. I need to go, but see you on Saturday”.
“Say hi to Moony from me”.
“Sure. Bye, Prongsie”.
James ends the call and lets out a heavy sigh, ruffling his hair. If he didn’t feel tired enough before, he’s completely knackered now. He still finds the energy to place an order and when his dinner arrives, he sets on the couch and turns on an episode of Bake Off.
It’s almost eleven when he starts to doze off, dinner half eaten left on the coffee table and his phone abandoned next to it.
He’s harshly woken by his phone buzzing with a new text message.
James wants to say that he doesn’t rush to grab it and check who wrote him - if Regs wrote him - and he wants to say that his lips don’t twitch in a little smile when he reads that it’s from his newly acquired friend. But he can’t
Regs: please, tell me you had a better day than I did.
James: it was uneventful, but I’m tired.
James: wanna talk about it?
Regs: not really. Had to confront someone I didn’t really have the energy to deal with.
James: I’m sorry. People can be too much sometimes.
Regs: I can’t really hold myself unaccountable. But yeah, sometimes it’s just not the right moment.
James: tell them that. I’m sure they’ll understand.
Regs: they can be a bit stubborn.
James: tell me about it ;)
James ponders for a bit, making the phone bounce against his thigh, his mind thinking of the best way to phrase the question he wants to ask.
He’s still not sure if it’s a good idea, when he starts writing it, but he’s too tired to think rationally. He just hopes to not push the stranger away.
James: don’t you think it’s a bit weird to be talking to a total stranger all these days?
The answer doesn’t take long to come.
Regs: my friends said that too.
James: you’ve been talking about me to your friends? ;)
Regs: fly low. I did it just so they know who to blame if I should be found murdered.
James chuckles. Oh, he so loves how this person can always come back with a witty remark. It keeps him entertained and now his sleep has definitely subsided.
James: well, we could try to reveal another layer. If you don’t mind, can I ask whether you are a he or she or they or whatever? Just so I can know I’m not talking to an artificial intelligence. Or a dog. I love dogs, but please, don’t be a dog. Regs: unless dogs have developed opposable thumbs then no, I’m not a dog. And my friends told me several times my heart is cold and I have no soul, so I might be a robot.
James: that’s mean :(
Regs: if you knew me, you would agree with them. I don’t mind, it’s my character.
James: I don’t believe it.
Regs: maybe it’s better this way. I’m a he , by the way. You?
James: same.
Oh, okay . James thinks. He didn’t quite picture his stranger in any particular way or gender or look. He’s never been good at imagining people, not even when reading descriptions of characters in a book. He would imagine their stories and feelings and actions, but he’s never been too into physical appearance and stuff in that range. Honestly, he doesn’t mind how Regs identifies himself, he just didn’t want to take assumptions or take things for granted.
Regs: this is out of the way then.
James: yeah. Should we go with something else?
Regs: do you want to?
James: I don’t know. I’m fine with whatever you want.
Regs: you can want things, you know? You can ask.
James: I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.
Regs: if I’m uncomfortable, I’ll tell you.
James is sure he will, Regs gives him the idea of someone who is pretty straightforward and doesn’t hide things for the sake of others.
James: do you live in London?
That wasn’t the question he meant to ask - he didn’t have anything in mind to be honest - but it just came out in the spur of the moment. Maybe it’s his curiosity to know how close he is to Regs or something else. To be true, he doesn’t expect Regs to answer that.
Instead…
Regs: for now yes. You?
Oh, okay.
James: born and raised in London.
Regs: a true Londoner.
James: this city doesn’t have secrets for me.
Regs: so, you’ll know the best spots to hide a body. Noted.
James: ^-^.
Regs: what’s that supposed to mean?
James doesn’t want to interrupt the conversation, he’s enjoying himself too much and would gladly stay on the phone with this guy all the time - still not dwelling on it - but his eyes are heavy with sleep again.
So, he decides to start preparing for bed, hopping back in his wheelchair and heading for the bathroom.
James: I don’t know if I’m willing to share my secrets.
Regs: pff. You give me the idea of someone who can’t keep a secret even with a gun pointed
at their head.
James: you’ve been having a lot of ideas about me ;)
Regs: I just like guessing and knowing I was right.
James: I’m going to disappoint you :(
Regs: you’re a jock, of course you’re going to disappoint me.
James: still on that? I used to be a jock. Not anymore.
Regs: hmmm, still not convinced. A jock always stays a jock.
James: hahaha. That’s unfair.
By the time they reach this point of the conversation, James has already settled on his bed, tucked under the warmth of his duvet.
Regs: it’s your fault. Learn not to be a jock.
James: how can I make it up to you?
Regs: hmmm it’s going to be hard.
James: I like hard.
James: I mean, as a challenge.
Regs: hahaha nope, we are not ignoring that.
James: can’t you have some pity on a poor man?
The reply doesn’t come immediately or quickly as the other ones, and five minutes after, James is convinced the other man has fallen asleep. He can’t blame him, he’s very tired himself and if not for the entertainment of that conversation and the weird connection James feels towards Regs, he would have already bid his goodbye.
But when the answer still doesn’t come, James puts his phone on the nightstand and rests his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with images of their conversation and the possible life of this strange man that got his attention and guts all tangled up: what is he doing now? Is he in bed while messaging James like himself? Is he on the couch in front of the telly? Is he with a partner?
James hopes to hear the phone buzz soon with a new text; he’ll hear it when it arrives.
Instead, James falls asleep, quietly and unwillingly.