The two boys' friendship continues to grow; it's now Hemp's turn to talk.
After my horror tale yesterday, thought it was time to lighten things up considerably...enjoy this one! :)
Hemp. Ya, that's me. Hemphill Rogers, Hemp for short. That's my nickname.
I am fifteen years old, live with my foster family here in Nashville, Tennessee. Lived here going on five years now; been with my fosters since age ten. I don't really like being in the foster care system, but my real folks didn't want me, so they done dumped me; which is why I am with the Rogers bunch.
They're in the process of trying to adopt me. I hope it comes to pass; I have come to love them so much.
I am in a wheelchair, sometimes use crutches to walk. I was born with my legs bent and paralyzed. Born with something called myelomeningocele, or in layman's terms, spina bifida. Don't know wha happened when I was being formed inside my mom's tummy, but something did; now I have this cross to carry for the rest of my days.
I don't let my disabilities stop me. I play baseball, I race, and I ski. Ya, buddy. I do! I am in great physical shape; just call me Muscle Man because I have MUSCLES....Built like Arnold Shwartzenshnocker or whatever his name is. *grins*
I made a new friend last week, a kid named Wayne. Poor guy has been kicked around in life; he reminds me of a small, scruffy puppy that's been abused: short, skinny, wears thick-lensed glasses, zits on top of zits; not much of a looker, but still--albeit his being shy and quiet, he's still a great kid. Name's Wayne, but I've come to call him "Weed", on account of his scrawny build. Looks like a gust of wind could blow him away, he's so skinny. Needs meat on that little body of his; looks no older than the age of twelve.
Weed is really good with his hands: he can fix computers, even tinker with car engines and stuff. Stuff my big, clumsy hands won't allow. My hands are more for sports. He is really close with his dad, chances are if you see Weed, there's his Pops not far behind.
He's an only kid whereas I have six brothers and sisters to compete with.
Poor Weed gets picked on juat about every day. If it isn't about how he looks, it's about his smarts, his way with computers; kids call him a "geek", a "loser". He isn't very graceful (he trips or falls a lot), and when he speaks to someone, he hems and haws, and his face turns all beet red. He just isn't that much of a people-person, but deep down inside I see a kid who has a good heart. I like him; I really do.
I get so annoyed at those creeps who pick on Weed. Why couldn't they go and pick on someone else? Someone their size, perhaps? Poor Weed is an emotional basketcase by day's end; I've seen him get to the point of tears from being teased so much, and it really makes me crazy-mad. Don't those stupid kids know that teasing isn't the way to get ahead in life?
Today we are going to go to Centennial Park; they have some music festival (Christian rock, I think). Think he'd enjoy that; he needs some positive stimulation in his life. I invited him on Friday, his pops said ya, he could go. So now we have that to look forward to.
After that, we'll probably go out to eat; we'll go to Ryan's Steakhouse, get our grub faces on. I may be in a wheelchair, as I said earlier, but I can get my own food, I can take care of myself, don't need any assistance unless I ask first. Don't assume that just because I'm on crutches or use my chair that I'm helpless because I'll buzz your toes or tell you straight up faster than a Texas jackrabbit on hot pavement! I'll get my own food, thankyewverymuch...
Well, I will write in here again, as will Weed. Take care, and until I see you a while ago (as my dad says), this is Hemphill Rogers signing out of here! So long!
~Hemp ("Mr. Muscles") Rogers. :)
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Reviewed by chris stienstra
10/2/2007
A great story of a great friendship.....
Enjoy reading this series.
My very best
Chris
Oh Karen, another wonderful write! I am glad this next week is a break for me from school. I'll be able to read more of your wonderful stories and poems.
Love,
annie
I have seen, thank God very few, that couldn't cope with disability and let their lifes go down the hill and whiter, others, like the ones in your stories seems to raise proud their heads and holler to everyone to hear "what the heck, that little thing don't gonna screw my life!"
I am bowing in respect in front of such people!
Georg
This is how kids should be. Accepting of all; wanting to do/be good; reaching out to those less fortunate (and the kid in a wheelchair, himself)--well done!
Great story, Karen. The inspiration you show that this young man has to try to live his life to the fullest by playing ball, etc. is wonderful. Well done.
Samantha is a unique artist only using red ink in her drawings. She comes across a red feather pen enchanted never to run out of ink but she soon discovers that the drawings created from the pen come to life.
