Sasha’s knee hurt. It was a dull ache, and she rubbed it as she drove, but it got so bad she couldn’t focus and missed the mall entrance. She ground her teeth and went on, still trying to rub the pain away. She reached the second entrance a moment later, but as she turned someone cut her off. Sasha hit the brakes and cried out as she felt razors in her knee. Actually, the pain was just below the knee, and it was a fool like this one–just a year ago–who’d left her in such misery.
She went on, giving the driver extra room until he parked, then drove slowly as she moved through the parking lot, being overly cautious. But it didn’t help. Three high school kids rushed in front of her and she braked, and again her knee throbbed. She swore and banged the horn.
“Brats,” she said. The kids moved aside, and she sped past them.
At the end of the lane, she found a disabled parking space and pulled in. A blond girl about eight years old stood by the car in front, waiting as her mother loaded the trunk.
Sasha stepped out and stood, and though she leaned heavily on the door, she still felt the knee. The blond girl now moved to Sasha’s car and watched. Sasha shut the door and the pain grew as her weight fell full on the leg. The doctor had said it would get better, should get better, but if not, they could try something else. They’d probably have to, Sasha thought, this was too much. If only there weren’t so many fools on the road.
The blond girl walked closer, then stopped and waved her finger. “That’s for hurt people,” she said.
Sasha turned to the blond girl. “You’re bad,” the girl went on, still waving that finger. “You shouldn’t park there.”
The girl wasn’t the first to do that, there’d been others, and all of them children. Adults would stare–after all, they saw no crutches or wheelchair–but it was the children who spoke up. As Sasha listened, she felt the knee throb and her leg trembled. And that finger kept moving.
“You’re a self-righteous little girl,” Sasha said. “Don’t you know that’s one of the seven deadly sins?” The girl paused, wondering, then waved her finger again. “Maybe not,” Sasha said. “I’ll just have to show you.”
So Sasha bent down and reached for the knee, and the girl stopped and watched. Sacha’s fingers were quick and her balance good, so it took just a moment, then the little girl cried out and ran for her mother as Sasha hopped on one leg, laughing, waving her plastic leg like a finger.
Milan Smith has published 23 short stories in such magazines as Lines In the Sand (Sept.-Oct. 2000); PKA’s Advocate (Dec. 2000-Jan. 2001), (Oct. - Nov. 2001), (Apr.-May 2002), and (April-May 2007); Enigma (Fall 2001), The Circle (Winter 2002), and one in a regional zine, Mylxine (#15). Milan says: “After I got my B.S. degree in business from the University of Florida, I worked in the business world for two years, then got job as a reporter at The Destin Log, in Destin, Florida. I’d written poetry and short stories in my spare time for several years up to then, and I finally decided to work at it full-time. I now work a part-time job at night and write during the mornings. I’ve been working on a novel the past few years and am now back to writing stories.”
A new and interesting story is posted every day.
Subscribe to the RSS Feed! (what is rss)
Don’t miss another story! Subscribe to Every Day Fiction via RSS.
12 Responses to “SASHA’S KNEE • by Milan Smith”
Comments
« PIES OF GOD • by Sarah Black | Home | FORLORN HOPE FANCY • by Douglas Campbell »
October 13th, 2008 at 12:36 am
There’s a story from the First World War, of how a soldier who had been wounded and invalided out was on a bus where he was abused by a young woman for not being at the front. So he opened his shirt and displayed to all the passengers the many scars covering most of his chest…
October 13th, 2008 at 3:32 am
Well told. There aren’t enough stories about disability. Good luck with your writing.
October 13th, 2008 at 4:06 am
“Actually, the pain was just below the knee, and it was a fool like this one–just a year ago–who’d left her in such misery”
Pretty much lets the cat out of the bag. I found the last paragraph or so pretty charmless but that may be the intention.
Celeste, it’s a story about disability but it’s not exactly a very positive one is it?
October 13th, 2008 at 4:17 am
I liked this story; I liked that though Sasha was in immense pain, she didn’t feel sorry for herself. She may be physically disabled, but so often the rest of us are emotionally disabled.
October 13th, 2008 at 4:45 am
I liked this story. This was by far my favorite of the recent stories here. I liked the surprise ending that wasn’t preachy. . .
Gerard says that the last paragraph is ‘charmless’ and it certainly doesn’t make Sasha look like a Saint. But it’s nice to see a story where nobody is perfect.
October 13th, 2008 at 5:14 am
Realistic and engaging.
October 13th, 2008 at 7:23 am
I really liked this story - I, like the main character, am disabled and my plastic leg brace is usually invisible to the casual observer. I have “princess plates” on my car, but still sometimes get The Look when I park in the disabled spot. Sometimes I am tempted to pull up my pant leg and display the thing in all its plastic-and-metal glory.
I didn’t find the “pain below the knee” part to give it away that she had a prosthesis as I know lots of folks in physical therapy who experience pain there and have other types of injuries and conditions. As to the last paragraph being “charmless” - I found it effective. Much better than charm. Thanks for this story - I got a kick out of it!
October 13th, 2008 at 8:48 am
A little gem. Who said disability makes you a nice person! It felt real, which is way better than full of charm.
Well done. I gave you a 5.
Avis
October 13th, 2008 at 10:16 am
Very good, I liked the ending, too.
October 13th, 2008 at 10:53 am
Poor Sasha!
I didn’t get that she was disabled until the twist at the end. When you talked about the pain in her knee, I assumed she was nursing an ACL tear or had knee replacement surgery that didn’t go well or something. I thought the twist was surprising.
October 16th, 2008 at 1:16 am
Excellent story. No self pity there. I thought MC had an injury but not as bad as that.
I felt triumphant when she waved her leg at the brat.
Don’t know what GD is on about. It was a positive ending; an uplifting one.
October 18th, 2008 at 11:01 am
Brilliant final sentence. Ouch.