They were poised on the corner waiting for the light to change.  I sat across from them in my car, stopped at the busy intersection that leads to the outer mall road on a stunning spring day.  They were in the street in front of the curb on the other side, the only pedestrians, noticeable even had there been a crowd.

Maybe they were in their late teens, maybe early twenties.  She was in a wheelchair, her upper body strong and defined, her pant-covered legs withered, hanging down to just above the foot brackets.  She was Asian, pretty, with long dark hair that caught the spring breeze.  Had she been alone, I'd have worried she couldn't safely cross the wide highway, four lanes across in either direction.  It was a short light for pedestrians, with cars always jumping ahead of time impatiently.  But she wasn't alone.

Standing next to her, with his arm resting on one of the wheelchair handles, was a young black man with a hip-hop haircut, tall and angular in his t-shirt and jeans.  They conversed with animation while they waited, the girl looking up for his response after she spoke, while the young man leaned in toward her chair with obvious friendship and ease.  I smiled to myself thinking what a nice way they had between them, and how lucky she was to have someone strong by her side, confined as she was in her clumsy chair.

Then the light changed and they moved swiftly into action.  The girl threw her arms down hard on the tops of the wheels, propelling the chair forward with surprising speed.  The young man swung his long left leg forward and the foot landed sideways in front of him, his body nearly crumpling in half to keep balanced.  He leaned hard on the wheelchair handle to steady himself enough to bring his right foot ahead, landing sideways in front of him as his left had.  His head rotated in a circle with each step, along with his hips and shoulders.

He may have been blind as well.  There was no telling if he was focused on his surroundings, only on his forward motion as he clung to the girl's chair and moved his feet one after the other.  The two no longer spoke; they only covered ground by way of the girl's strength and aim, and the young man's trust in her direction.

They reached the other side of the road where the curved indentation in the sidewalk was just a bit too high for the chair to roll over smoothly.  The young man pulled himself to stand squarely behind the chair and leaned with all his weight on the two handles so the leg brackets went up in the air.  The girl gave one final burst of strength on the wheel tops and jumped the concrete lip.  Then they relaxed to a slower pace as they made their way toward the mall, moving in tandem like broken poetry.

They probably began talking again.  The light had turned green for traffic several seconds ago, but none of the cars had moved yet.  Maybe we were waiting to see them resume their conversation.  Or watch the gentle glide of their fluid companionship.  This time, none of the cars seemed impatient to jump ahead.  After all, it was a lovely spring day.


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