NODS LIKE A PUPPET

People are always telling me things. A stranger stopped in front of me and started telling me about fate. They told me that it was my karma. I lifted my eyes and nodded in mock-agreement. That’s the second person to tell me that. People who believe in karma think that it’s destiny. They told me I was the way I am because of my karma. What a crock of horseshit. People who believe like that bow down to a vengeful God. I can’t pray like that.

The only thing I feel is pain. I spent three and a half hours in the doctor’s surgery waiting. There are no magazines but there is a television in the wall. The television is always on 7 and is always too quiet to hear. The hearing aids aren’t working so I can’t hear anyway. The bell in my head keeps me busy but it’s dangerous. That’s the only thing I hear. After my time waiting I saw him. He gave me a Nazi salute so I started pushing my wheelchair into his office.

He apologised for taking so long and told me the old man before me had nothing wrong with him but was lonely. I told him I was deaf. I told him I was isolated at risk because I was deaf. I also told him that my hair’s falling out. It’s thinning. He told me he was lucky to not have that problem. He told me that he was lucky because everyone in his family still had their hair. I said ditto. I told him my fathers hair is thinning in his seventies. It was my time to talk.

I told him I found a medical reference online. It said that taking my anti-epileptic medication could make you go bald. He looked on his computer and agreed. He apologised. He said I was supposed to have gone in a year and a half ago for a scan to see if I still needed to take it. No one is steering the boat and the rats have taken over. He told me I could half one of the medications and look at cutting out another.

There are too many middle fingers in the pie. The pie has lost all its flavour and is coloured grey like the weather. I feel like throwing it out the window but there are no windows. The sun and the sea shine above me as I sit and wait for him to research from his hard-drive. The only thing I feel is pain. I feel my posture slumping. I cannot stop it. He smiles like Joe-ninety and nods like a puppet. There are too many fingers.

Andrew Stuart Buchanan

The feeling was palpable. I know that I’m not paranoid so I leaned across and asked why everyone was looking and laughing at me? I asked him if it was because I was in a wheelchair? My friend laughed and said no, they’re laughing at your hair. Is there something stuck in it, I asked? No, he said, they’re laughing at you because you’ve got hair.

I’d never noticed before. I looked over at my friends. They were all bald. A waitress leaned over me and asked me if I wanted anything else? I started to say no thank y… before the vowels were strangled. She was bald. I swivelled my head and saw that all the waitresses were bald. I turned my head the other way and saw all the waiters were bald too. A woman walked up with a basket and asked me if I would like to buy a rose for my wife? The basket was at my eye level and was filled with red and peach coloured roses. I looked up and started to tell her I wasn’t married. She was also bald. The lighting fixture above her gleamed a ray of light off her shiny scalp.

A bald man playing a violin walked up to me leant down and told me he would trade his left testicle for some hair. He was playing a waltz. I told him that would not be necessary. I told him I would shave all my hair off and fashion it into a wig if he would let me have his spine. He said yes before handing me a bread and butter knife. He turned around and pulled his shirt up exposing his vertebra. He told me to start cutting.

We all take for granted that life just is.

Andrew Stuart Buchanan

THE DIFFERENCE

-There was someone using the bathroom so I sat in my wheelchair blocking the door. I had to let them know that they were taking it from a disabled person

-How did you know that the person inside wasn’t disabled like you?

-No one’s disabled like me

-And, so?

-Well someone who wasn’t disabled walked out of the disabled toilet

-Did you punch them?

-No they started talking straight away so I couldn’t punch them

-What were they talking about?

-They told me that I’d been paraphrased in The New Yorker

-Wow, you’re famous, no wonder you didn’t punch them

-Being paraphrased doesn’t make me famous. It makes me infamous

-What’s the difference?

-I’m a disgrace and nobody knows me

-The able-bodied man in the disabled toilet knew who you were. He recognised you

-Yeah but he only recognised me from being infamous

-So you’re famous for being infamous

-I guess so,

-What’s the difference?

-I met another stranger today. I told them what it was like to be trapped within my body and trapped within a system. They told me I was dealing with the devil. I told them tell me something I don’t know

-What did they tell you?

-They told me that a humming bird flaps its wings seventy times a second

-I didn’t know that either. How are you dealing with the devil?

-I’m not. I’ve already made my deal. I’ve dealt

-What for?

-Women

-What?

-You heard me

-What did you exchange?

-I can’t remember what the deal was for

-Why not?

-Because I landed on my head

-Did you get women?

-Yes

-But now you can’t remember?

-Yes

-You know what that is?

-No

-That’s the devil getting his hand

-…

Andrew Stuart Buchanan