Stevie

I hadn't encountered Stevie before, but Ralph had (Ralph is our library intern from Buffalo who works at our reference desk getting experience in preparation for a job when he graduates). I saw Stevie enter the library, pushing the lightweight walker in front of him. His gait was uneven, his progress agonizing, his walker scraping across the carpet. His legs were shaky, his eyes unfocused, his breathing hard. It was extremely evident that every move was taxing, every ounce of strength being expended.

I looked away, not wanting to stare, but he was hard to miss. He made a slow-motion beeline for the reference desk, the building suddenly uncooperatively quiet, refusing to cover the squeak of his wheels, the scruffing of his shoes. Ralph told me that his name was Stevie and asked if I had met him yet. I shook my head. When at long last he reached us, I could see he was young - early twenties if that.

"Hi, Frank," he said to Ralph. Ralph didn't bother to correct him.

He gave his best imitation of a smile, and s-l-o-w-l-y asked how I was.

"I'm fine," I responded. "How are you doing?"

He grimaced (I wasn't sure whether in pain or amusement) and said he was having a good day. There was an uncomfortable silence as he took a deep breath and steadied himself. I wondered how he got to the library, whether someone was with him, if he was a student here since I hadn't seen him before, what research he was interested in. He blinked for an eternity, then asked if we had any large print books.

His question took me by surprise. Large print books? I was pretty sure we didn't have any, but we looked. Actually we had two, neither of which he was interested in. One was a slushy romance novel, the other a boring technical manual. (What are we doing with either one?!). I suggested that he could take whatever he wanted to read to the Learning Center and they would scan it into a reading program so he could hear the contents.

He smiled patiently at me. Then he explained that he was trying to regain his physical ability lost in a recent accident. He was working on the large motor skills (hence his great prowess in moving about), but wanted to exercise his eye muscles. He just couldn't focus on small type sizes. He needed large print stuff to work with.

Oh. That explains a lot. I recommended that he try the public library or a senior center, places more likely to offer large print books. He nodded. Yup. On his list. Just thought he would start with the closest place. A woman appeared and asked him if he were ready. He nodded, and painfully turned his walking contraption around.

How devastating that accident must have been to have robbed him of so much at such a young age. I admired his determination to regain ground. I wished there were some way I could help him. Suddenly he whirled his walker about, facing us again.

"I'll be back," he uttered ferociously. "I'll be back."

I had no doubt. And when he returned, I would be ready. Something about cars, I suspect. Something about cars in BIG BOLD PRINT. Placed carefully at the reference desk with his name on it.