Three’s a Crowd

Once upon a time there lived three college roommates, each struggling to tread their individual hero’s journeys. Two were classic beauties, the fairest of them all. The third, a redhead, floundered, uncertain where and how she fit in the world. I was that third roomie.

On this particular day, CeCe was running late for class. Weather outside the tall, rectangular window appeared ominous; windblown snow had turned it into a magical space when peering out but was a frigid, dangerous place when racing along icy Minnesota sidewalks.

Considering CeCe ‘s mode of transportation was a wheelchair pushed by self-sacrificing aide and roommate Debi, she complained anyway. She had to get to class; she had an important presentation to give her sociology class, describing “The Realities of Quadriplegic Life from the Perspective of a Not Sex Neutral College Coed.”

“What good are you, anyway,” Debi reprimanded Barb. “You could help!”

“I do the best I can,” Barb said, stuffing her orange hair into a royal blue stocking cap. “I didn’t volunteer for this, I fell into it. Tell me what I can do to help!”

“Why must I always be the teller?” Debi’s voice was shrill.

“Can we go now?” CeCe yelled in her sharp pay attention to me voice

“Run interference,” Debi muttered to Barb. “That’s something you do well: interfere!”

Down the elevator they went, three discheveled roommates stuffed into down jackets, wool socks, thick mittens and nonskid boots.

Blizzard conditions hit their faces like pin pricks and, squinting at fellow classmates rushing into and out of the dorm, they fell into formation: Barb first, yelling for students to clear a path, CeCe’s wheelchair second, eyes wide with a sense of foreboding and helplessness. And finally, Debi, shoving the skidding wheelchair forward, relying on past ice skating prowess to keep it rolling straight.

Still, the right wheel slithered off the concrete, caught the straight edge of the sidewalk with a grinding grate. CeCe screamed as the wheelchair dumped her cheek first into a three foot snow bank. Barb turned, was hit from behind by a large Norwegian boy and struggled like a windmill to keep her balance, finally grabbing the wheelchair and leaning over the white-faced CeCe.

“Get her up!” Debi yelled. “We will all be late now.”

CeCe moaned.

Barb was scared. “She’s shivering. Hypothermia is a thing.” Barb had worked as a lifeguard on the south shore of frigid Lake Superior. She recognized the signs. “We have to get her back to our apartment and warm her up.”

“But I am responsible to get her to class!” Debi said. “She has that presentation.”

“It will wait,” Barb said.

“Help me,” CeCe told the blond giant. Her voice shook.

Gosh, she was a damsel in distress. And a mesmerizing one at that. He righted the wheelchair. Stared into her intense blue eyes; her lips were turning that blue.

Grabbing the wheelchair handles, he turned around the wheelchair and pushed her through the dorm doors, while a reluctant Debi trailed behind. She was deadline oriented. Used to sticking a skating program. Recovering after a fall. Continuing onward.

Leif pulled off a glove, touched CeCe’s gloves. “Her circulation is compromised.. we have to work fast.” He slid the chair into the elevator, careful not to jostle his princess.

Debi pushed “3.” The door took forever to close. Snapping at the space, she said, “We need to get her in a warm bath! Run a bath for her when we get home, Barb.”

“No!” Barb surprised herself. She never said No. “Not a good idea. That will increase heat loss.” She knew this. She’d been trained in this one summer as she canoed with juvenile delinquents in the Boundary Waters.

Leif nodded. “Someone needs to strip off their wet clothes and climb into bed with her. Pile on the blankets. One on each side, if possible.”

Barb unlocked the door and Debi raced inside, stripping off her jacket, boots, wet socks. “Get her into my bed. I am her aide! I will do this!”

Barb stripped off CeCe’s boots, socks. “Her toes are so cold! I will get all our blankets!”

Leif gently removed Cece’s jacket. “Are you comfortable taking the other side, Leif?” Barb asked. “I can make some warm lemonade and throw all the wet clothes in the dryer.”

Leif stripped off his wet jacket, boots, pants.

CeCe watched. Despite her cold condition, despite missing that all-important presentation, she grinned. She felt like a full-fledged coed for the first time since she’d enrolled. Maybe she’d revise the presentation.