Eye of the Storm (Hudson 3)

"Sure, Jake. Will you take me to see her some day?"

"Oh, absolutely." he promised.

He tried to change the subject. After a while, he accepted the silence and drove on. I dozed and when I woke again, we were close enough to the house that my heart began to pound. I don't know why I was so nervous about returning.

"You're doing the right thing to come back here,' Jake assured me. He was watching me in the rearview mirror and I was sure he could see the hesitation in my face. "You'll get good care and you're familiar with the place, which makes it easier. You'll be just fine, Princess. Just fine."

"I know." I said softly.

Then the house came into view. It loomed taller and larger than I remembered it.

"What's that off the portico?" I asked Jake.

"That? Victoria had Miles Hollinger construct a ramp for you. You can wheel yourself in and out of the house now. I was surprised she thought of it. You never know what she's going to do, but she does get the right things done." he said.

"A ramp?"

"Wait until you see some of the other changes she has made inside. Things are designed for your comfort now."

"Maybe I'll be too comfortable," I muttered. Jake didn't hear.

Will the house become my new prison? I asked myself. Doctor Snyder had warned against becoming too dependent on people. Did she realize you could become too dependent on your surroundings as well? Beware of crutches, I warned myself.

A thousand years ago it seemed Grandmother Hudson waved good-bye to me from those front steps. There was so much sadness and darkness in her face that day. Maybe she somehow knew how hard it was going to be one day for me to return.

8

Prisoner of My Body

.

Jake pushed my wheelchair up the ramp to the

front door. "I should be doing this myself. Jake." "Next time. Princess," he said.

I wasn't that heavy. but I could hear him

huffing and puffing.

"You're smoking too much. Jake," I told him.

He laughed and agreed. I wanted to add drinking, too.

because I could smell it on his breath. but I didn't. Before he could come around to open the front

door, a large African-American woman opened it for

us so abruptly I was almost sucked into the house by

the rush of air. Imposing looking, there were enough

traces of gray in her short hair to suggest she was at

least in her mid- to late fifties. Jake was right about

her arms looking big and powerful. They put a strain

on the short sleeves of her blue and white uniform.