Bye Bye Birdie

I smiled, leaning my head against the headrest of my wheelchair as my little sister Caroline sang for me. I closed my eyes, seeing her in my mind standing by the grand piano in the front room of our grand country home. Her green eyes would be sparkling, her blonde hair tied up with a simple white ribbon, matching perfectly with the beautiful pink dress she was wearing. My little sister was beautiful. At seventeen years old, she had every boy in the town at her feet. I envied her.

But I loved her of course, after all she was my sister and she was my best friend if nothing else. I allowed my plain brown eyes to flicker open as her song ended and I clapped loudly. She smiled, bowing mockingly and laughing her sweet laugh. She skipped over to me, kneeling in front of my chair, kissing my cheek;

“That was for you Sissy”

I stroked her face, kissing her nose “Thank you Caroline, now don’t you have a date with Mr. Fawcett? Mother told me you were courting him...”

She laughed, throwing her head back, her straight white teeth gleaming in all her perfect glory. Her small hand lay gently on my useless leg, her fingers soft against my deformity “Indeed I do...but first I have a present for you!”

She ran out of the room, leaving me to stare after her in curiosity. Using my hands, I turned my chair around to face the dark wooden doors and waited eagerly. I heard her walking back, slowly and I strained my head to see her before she came through the doors again.

It didn’t take long and I gasped in delight when she appeared, clapping my hands across my face, hiding my ecstatic smile. She mirrored my happiness; setting the pretty white cage down on the coffee table “I knew you’d like her” she spoke, gazing at the beautiful white dove sitting serenely on the perch inside the cage.

I wheeled myself closer, looking intently at my new pet “Where did you get her?”

Caroline cleared her throat “The gamekeeper up at Woodbridge farm, he found her alone. He thinks she got lost and couldn’t find her way back to the nest....she’s only a baby. What will you call her?”

I sighed “I’ll call her Freedom”

“That’s a pretty name”

I gazed beyond the cage, now holding the newly christened Freedom and out the large window that framed the rolling hills of countryside that surrounded our estate....”Indeed it is Caroline...indeed it is”
~
Several weeks later, I was sitting in my bedroom, painting. Freedom was at my side, in her cage as always, cooing softly. She was singing for me.

I looked intently at my almost completed landscape, glancing occasionally from it to the view outside my bedroom window. Many were bored by the countryside and longed for the close knit towns and cities, proclaiming them more exciting and plentiful. But for me, I was a country girl and I would never leave.

I clucked my tongue, cocking my head to one side so my auburn hair spilled over my one shoulder. Something was missing; I just couldn’t seem to place what...

Suddenly, Freedom ruffled her feathers, her cooing becoming louder as if to grasp my attention. I jumped, startled out of my daze and looked at her. I grinned delighted, and taking up another paintbrush, I dabbed it into the small portion of white paint on the pallet and began to brush it on the sky of my painting. Less than a minute later, I rested my head back to look at the small white dove on the canvas soaring into the sky; her wings spread open in the beautiful free air.

I wheeled away from the canvas, allowing it to dry, and over to the small table Freedom’s cage was perched. Quietly, I opened her cage door and grasping her softly I placed her on my lap, stroking her lovingly. She stayed quiet, allowing me to touch her. She was quite tame.

My smile had faded as I stroked her, and I looked outside again, my eyes scanning the darkening blue sky. Night would fall soon. I looked at the wide empty space, devoid of cloud and only an occasional bird flying past. I looked down at Freedom, making up my mind.

Very carefully, I opened my door and wheeled out of my house. I prayed my wheels wouldn’t squeak as they so often had the tendency to and my prayers were answered. The maids would be quite shocked if they saw me leave without in the company of Caroline, my parents or my older brother John.

Fortunately, none of my family were present in our house at that moment. They had all left to go for afternoon tea at the Fawcett’s. They had kindly invited me but I declined, sparing my mother the embarrassment when I wouldn’t be able to fit my chair in a certain space, or make it through a door. I had so often seen her turn her face away and was quite aware of her shame at bearing a cripple daughter.

I was trapped, in my own house, in my own family. I was trapped in a world where God had decided to take away the use of my legs. I was not angry, no, nor was I ashamed. This was how I was; this was how I was intended to be. But I was frustrated, not being able to appreciate the crunch of autumn leaves under my feet, or feel cool water brush my toes in summer, snow in winter or lush green grass in spring. I was tired of having to depend on a wheelchair...but this was who I was...and I had to make do with what I was given.

But freedom...freedom I craved more than life itself. I wished to run, even for only five minutes, to spread my arms out and spin in circles. Freedom, a long desired goal...

Freedom, the dove, had gone silent in surprise as her cage bumped around in my lap as I attempted to manoeuvre my chair through the dirt track that led to a small clearing. Caroline had taken me here once, wheeling me to the clearing. John had brought my easel and they had left me for two hours, allowing me to breathe the air and paint without glass between my canvas and my subject. They were so kind to me and I loved them very much. It shamed me that they had to look after me like that. They needed to live like I could not.

I whimpered softly as a thorn caught my hand, scratching my skin fiercely, I felt the blood rise and harden in the air. Eventually I stopped, and placed Freedom in her cage on the ground. With an effort, I raised myself off my chair and collapsed onto the ground, my useless legs folding beneath me. With as much strength I could muster in my arms, I pushed my chair away, watching it crash against the nearest tree and crumple like my legs to the ground in a pathetic heap.

I placed my legs before me, and opening Freedom’s cage once again, I placed her into my hands. My small hands curled around her fragile body and I felt her little heart beat rapidly under my fingers. I placed my lips on her head in a tender kiss “Fly Freedom, live up to your name, be free”

I threw my hands up into the air and cried out with triumph as she flew into the air, flapping her wings frantically. She rose higher and higher, curving in an arc and then eventually she disappeared from my sight. I allowed my hands to drop, and then I waited.

Within an hour, dusk began to settle and as the sky grew darker and darker I heard them call my name. Caroline’s sweet voice was filled with worry, and John’s deep one with anxiety. I waited, to be led back to my cage.

Go little Freedom, be free as I can not....