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thankfully below the areas that would have negative impact on your breathing, your upper body. Your injury is confined to your legs.

"Now," he said quickly. before I could ask anything, "we have determined that what you have is what we call an incomplete injury, which means there is some function below the primary level of the injury. We believe you will be able to move your right leg some. You will, in time, be able to put some weight on it and help yourself in and out of your wheelchair."

"Wheelchair?" I cried.

"Yes," he said holding that kind, soft smile. His assistant just stared at me, making me feel more uncomfortable.

"Why? Did I break my spinal cord?"

"Well," Dr. Eisner said widening his smile. "it isn't necessary to break it to have problems. Usually we find them crushed or badly bruised. Doctor Casey can explain it to you," he said looking at the younger doctor.

The younger man cleared his throat and smirked instead of smiling. He spoke very nasally, as if the words came out of his nostrils rather than his mouth.

"The spinal cord swells. Blood pressure drops sharply in the damaged area, starving cells of their blood supply.

Hemorrhaging begins in the center of the cord and spreads outward. Dying nerve cells produce scar tissue and the connections in the cord are broken. The result is paralysis," he concluded emotionlessly.

"I'm permanently paralyzed?"

"Below the waist," Doctor Eisner said. I guessed that to him that sounded like it was better than it could have been. "We are still evaluating your bladder," he concluded.

I didn't speak. I could see he was watching me carefully for my reaction.

"Will I die?" I asked him finally.

"Oh no, no," he assured me.

I wished he had said. "Of course."

.

For days afterward, I was poked and prodded and explored with electrical impulses. Doctors studied every part of me. I felt like a lump of meat. but I didn't complain nor did I speak very much. If I was asked about a feeling and I did feel it. I told them: if I didn't, I told them. too. That was all. I didn't carry on conversations with the nurses or the interns. They tried to get me to talk. but I just stared.

My concussion improved and I was soon able to lift my head with more ease. I could feed myself, not that I had much of an appetite. They always turned on the television set for me. but I didn't really listen or look. It was like a big bulb with shadows.

Jake came to see me every day. He was staying with a friend in Richmond, Ike brought me candy and magazines. The sudden aging that had come into his face right after my accident got a strong foothold. I even thought his hair was graving faster. His shoulders were always stooped some and he had trouble looking directly at me. It was as if he expected I would turn my eyes on him with accusations.

The only thing that attracted my curiosity was what my reluctant family was doing and how they were reacting to these surprising events.

"Victoria is frustrated and confused, of course. All her plans are put on hold now, maybe forever." Jake told me.

"I don't care about that:' I told him.

"Yeah, well, until you're better, you have to care. You'll need all the financial support you have and you can't give up a nickel. understand? I've taken the liberty of speaking to Mr. Sanger and he's on top of it."

"Get better? I won't get better. Jake. Didn't you talk to the doctors?"

"Sure you've got some work ahead of you, but therapy will get you stronger and. . ."

"And always be in a wheelchair," I said,

I knew why he had to pretend. but I couldn't.

"Don't blame Rain.," I told him. He looked at me. I could see something had changed. "What did you do. Jake? You didn't hurt her, did you?"

"Of course not. but I decided to sell her," he told me. "What am I doing with a horse like that anyway?"

I looked away. Maybe my name was a curse. Giving that beautiful horse my name had doomed her. too. Now, she would suffer without fault, suffer just because she had been born. No wonder we had gotten along so welt