Chapter 3 - The Question That Stayed
I did pull over.
Not because I could not drive.
Because that question deserved my whole face.
I turned around from the passenger seat.
Elowen was driving.
Bram sat behind me.
His wheelchair had been secured in the accessible vehicle compartment after we transferred him to his travel seat.
“What did Grandma tell you?”
He looked toward the window.
“Chair takes too much space.”
“Anything else?”
“She said family picture looks better if everyone stands.”
I felt Elowen’s hand tighten on the steering wheel.
I asked:
“When?”
“Today.”
“Only today?”
Bram shrugged.
That scared me.
At six, time is unreliable.
“One time? Lots of times?”
“Some times.”
Elowen looked at me briefly.
We did not question him further.
Children should not be cross-examined because adults suddenly realize they missed something.
I said:
“Your wheelchair does not make pictures ugly.”
“Grandma says people look at it.”
“They might.”
“Why?”
“Because people look at things that are different from what they expected.”
“Bad?”
“No.”
He thought.
Then:
“Can I still be family table?”
I closed my eyes for half a second.
“You are family whether you sit at a table, under a tree, in the kitchen, or on the moon.”
He frowned.
“No tables on moon.”
“Excellent point.”
A tiny smile.
Enough for that night.
Later, after Bram was asleep, Elowen stood in our kitchen with her arms folded.
“I kicked your mother.”
“Yes.”
“She was actively pushing his chair.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not apologizing for stopping her.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“I might have hurt her.”
“She walked afterward.”
“That isn’t the point.”
I looked at my wife.
She had already arrived at the legal distinction I would later discuss with counsel.
Stopping someone who is forcibly moving your child can be protective.
Continuing after the threat ends becomes something else.
Elowen had kicked once.
Cordelia fell.
Elowen immediately went to Bram.
No continued assault.
Still, we would be honest if anyone asked.
Elowen said:
“I saw his hands on the wheels.”
“I know.”
“He was trying to stop her himself.”
May you like
That image stayed with both of us.
Six-year-old hands trying to hold his place at his own family table.
