I lost my grip on the wheel. It had happened before, but it wasn't nearly as embarrassing as now. I had just left P.E. with a friend of mine, rolling up the steep hill from the gym toward the vocational building. As usual, I made my slow way up that hill, my forearms and biceps flexing as I pushed my wheelchair, struggling but too proud to ask for help.

Then, again as usual, I approached the next decline, a cement hill with a white awning over it. With a grin, I pushed down and let go. As usual. But, then things changed. Unlike most days, today she walked up the hill. How do you women move so many things at once? I watched her come up, watched the swaying hips and breasts...then turned to watch her from behind.

Big mistake. My chair instantly hit the beam holding the awning up. More precisely, the plywood desk velcroed to my chair hit the beam. I fell back hard. Suddenly, my friend and the girl were beside me. "Are you okay?"

"I've fallen and I can't get up."

"Be serious, Allen."

"I'm fine!"

"Dude, your head's in an ant bed!"

I jumped up. I walked. "Get'em off!"