face. My IV is gone, and I'm actually outside, away from that horrible room and those grungy halls. I wish I could wheel this chair all the
way home and never come back here again.
She couldn't do that. But she could relax and eiyoy the time she had outside.
She slid down in the chair, trying to find a comfortable sitting position so that she could tilt her face up toward the sun in hopes of getting an early start on her tan.
A noise that startled her came from somewhere behind her. Just as she turned her head to locate its source, the wheelchair jerked abruptly, lurched forward, and began slowly moving down the slope.
Duffy bolted upright in the chair. It wasn't supposed to be moving. It was supposed to be parked. Sitting safely in a stationary position. Safe. Safe and unmoving.
Instead, the wheels continued to revolve. As they turned, they picked up speed.
"Hey!" a student nurse studying in the sun cried out in surprise as she glanced up and saw the wheelchair bearing down upon her. "Hey, stop that thing!"
Duffy, her mouth open in shock, had no idea how to stop it.
The student nurse managed to throw herself out of the way just in time. A second later, the heavy chair careened across the blanket she'd been sitting on. "Hey!" she shouted after it, "what's the big idea?"
Other shouts joined hers as the wheelchair, with DuflPy in it, rolled faster and faster down the hill. When it reached the steepest part of the slope and tilted precariously forward, Duffy had to cling to
the wooden arms with every ounce of her strength to keep from being thrown out across the hill. Slamming out onto the ground now would break every single bone in her body.
With a sinking heart, Duffy realized her mistake. She should have jumped from the chair the second it began to move. At the top of the slope where the ground was level, she would have sustained only a few minor bumps and bruises. But she had been so startled by the sudden, unexpected movement, that she hadn't been thinking clearly.
Now, it was too late. Her hands fumbled frantically near the wheels, searching for the brake, but she couldn't find it. And the fear of crushing her fingers in the speeding wheels brought her hands back up to clutch the chair arms again.
She tried to scream. But the wind ripped viciously at her mouth, stealing her voice.
"Help me, help me, help me," she mouthed desperately as the chair tore down the slope. Her terrified heart pounded in her chest, her knuckles turned white on the wooden arms, her Hps moved soundlessly, frantically, as she tried in vain to scream for help.
The lake, glistening in the sun, beckoned below. Duffy was headed straight for it. The water, this early in spring, would be freezing cold. If the chair dove into the lake, it would sink like a stone, and she with it. Even if someone saved her from drowning, exposure to that freezing water would set her illness back weeks. It might even kill her.
Suppose she got tangled in the wheels, underwater?
Here and there across the hillside, people raced to her rescue, waving their arms and shouting.
None was close enough to reach her in time.
Why couldn't she scream? Why was the wind stealing her voice? "Help, help, help," she mouthed over and over again as the chair sped down the slope, closer and closer to the icy waters of the lake.
The two workmen glanced up in astonishment and, without dropping their shovels, dove out of the way of the heavy wooden chair barreling down upon them like a missDe.
In utter despair, Duffy moaned helplessly and closed her eyes.
Chapter 8
As the runaway chair, holding Duffy prisoner, continued its suicidal dive toward the chilly waters of the lake, she gave up hope. She was going into that lake ... no way to stop it... no way ... so cold ... it would be so cold. . . .
Eyes closed against the terrible reality of it, lips mouthing frantic prayers, she shrank into a little ball curled up against the back of the chair and clenched her teeth. She
way home and never come back here again.
She couldn't do that. But she could relax and eiyoy the time she had outside.
She slid down in the chair, trying to find a comfortable sitting position so that she could tilt her face up toward the sun in hopes of getting an early start on her tan.
A noise that startled her came from somewhere behind her. Just as she turned her head to locate its source, the wheelchair jerked abruptly, lurched forward, and began slowly moving down the slope.
Duffy bolted upright in the chair. It wasn't supposed to be moving. It was supposed to be parked. Sitting safely in a stationary position. Safe. Safe and unmoving.
Instead, the wheels continued to revolve. As they turned, they picked up speed.
"Hey!" a student nurse studying in the sun cried out in surprise as she glanced up and saw the wheelchair bearing down upon her. "Hey, stop that thing!"
Duffy, her mouth open in shock, had no idea how to stop it.
The student nurse managed to throw herself out of the way just in time. A second later, the heavy chair careened across the blanket she'd been sitting on. "Hey!" she shouted after it, "what's the big idea?"
Other shouts joined hers as the wheelchair, with DuflPy in it, rolled faster and faster down the hill. When it reached the steepest part of the slope and tilted precariously forward, Duffy had to cling to
the wooden arms with every ounce of her strength to keep from being thrown out across the hill. Slamming out onto the ground now would break every single bone in her body.
With a sinking heart, Duffy realized her mistake. She should have jumped from the chair the second it began to move. At the top of the slope where the ground was level, she would have sustained only a few minor bumps and bruises. But she had been so startled by the sudden, unexpected movement, that she hadn't been thinking clearly.
Now, it was too late. Her hands fumbled frantically near the wheels, searching for the brake, but she couldn't find it. And the fear of crushing her fingers in the speeding wheels brought her hands back up to clutch the chair arms again.
She tried to scream. But the wind ripped viciously at her mouth, stealing her voice.
"Help me, help me, help me," she mouthed desperately as the chair tore down the slope. Her terrified heart pounded in her chest, her knuckles turned white on the wooden arms, her Hps moved soundlessly, frantically, as she tried in vain to scream for help.
The lake, glistening in the sun, beckoned below. Duffy was headed straight for it. The water, this early in spring, would be freezing cold. If the chair dove into the lake, it would sink like a stone, and she with it. Even if someone saved her from drowning, exposure to that freezing water would set her illness back weeks. It might even kill her.
Suppose she got tangled in the wheels, underwater?
Here and there across the hillside, people raced to her rescue, waving their arms and shouting.
None was close enough to reach her in time.
Why couldn't she scream? Why was the wind stealing her voice? "Help, help, help," she mouthed over and over again as the chair sped down the slope, closer and closer to the icy waters of the lake.
The two workmen glanced up in astonishment and, without dropping their shovels, dove out of the way of the heavy wooden chair barreling down upon them like a missDe.
In utter despair, Duffy moaned helplessly and closed her eyes.
Chapter 8
As the runaway chair, holding Duffy prisoner, continued its suicidal dive toward the chilly waters of the lake, she gave up hope. She was going into that lake ... no way to stop it... no way ... so cold ... it would be so cold. . . .
Eyes closed against the terrible reality of it, lips mouthing frantic prayers, she shrank into a little ball curled up against the back of the chair and clenched her teeth. She
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