“You just love constant adventure,” I said. “It’s an adrenaline rush to you.”
“Yup. Always have and always will. These days, I can’t go cliff-diving or dive with the sharks, so I’ll have to get my kicks sneaking out for fast food. Now let’s go.”
I picked up my cell phone and called a taxi to meet us out front. I then hooked a green oxygen tank to his wheelchair. “Okay. Spontaneous it is,” I said. “You climbed Mt. Everest, so I guess there’s no keeping you down.”
“Onward and forward!” he yelled as I quickly pushed him down the hall.
Chapter 4
I had to laugh as I rolled my father down the corridor in his wheel chair while he shouted, “Woo-hoo!” It was really like one of those beautiful, triumphant moments in an ABC Family movie. I moved at a sprint, elated and delighted at an odd sense of freedom that overcame me. I had to admit that being spontaneous felt more wonderful.
“Lookin’ good, Bill,” said an older woman with a scarf over her head. “Got good results from that test this mornin’, I take it.”
I looked at my dad, surprised that he hadn’t mentioned it to me. “Dad, did the tests come back today?”
The band on his arm set off the alarm at the door, and I bit my lip as two orderlies rushed toward us.
“Busted,” I said.
“Quick! Make a break for it,” my dad said.
With my rebel of a father cheering me on, I pushed him to the waiting taxi. I packed up the wheelchair and got him squared away. As soon as I slid into the taxi beside him, I asked again, “Well? What did the tests show?”
“I don’t wanna talk about that right now,” he said. “I’ll fill you in after dinner.”
“Okay,” I said, assuming by his beaming face that the results must have been pretty positive.
“Can you believe they put that wander guard on me?” he said. “I’m not gonna run away.”
The taxi driver smiled and said in broken English. “Um, is you not doing this now?”
We both burst out in laughter.
“You know what I mean,” he said. “I’m not a flight risk. Besides, this is their fault. If they wouldn’t serve me hockey pucks for dinner, I wouldn’t have to go out to get a decent meal.”
My dad wasn’t usually a complainer, but I was sure the stress of being away from home was just getting to him. The meals at the nursing home had been horrendous lately, as the new cook they’d hired was only one step above me on the scale of culinary chaos.
My dad started to fuss with the wander guard on his ankle. “Darn it. I’m not a federal prisoner, and I’m sick of them treating me like one.”
I tried to calm him down. “They put it on because you were confused after the chemo and kept trying to leave. I agreed because I didn’t want you getting into trouble or hurting yourself. I love you, Dad, and I didn’t want—”
“To see me get run over?”
“Well, you did walk into traffic,” I said softly.
“My mind was all cloudy from all those drugs, but I’m better now. They took me off those real strong painkillers, and I won’t take the other ones they keep trying to force-feed me.”
“But you need pain medicine,” I said. “There’s no shame in that. You’re sick, Dad, and you don’t have to be Mr. Tough Guy all the time.”
“I can take pain. I’d rather be alert and have my mind.”
“I’ll talk to them about removing that thing from your ankle.”
“How about we stop by Home Depot?” he said. “A wire-cutter or a hacksaw’s only a couple bucks.”
I chuckled. “Dad! This little adventure is supposed to be about burgers.”
He chuckled as we pulled up next to Burger King. “Just kidding. Besides, all I need is a good pair of scissors, which we can get at your place, right? I’m not a wild animal or some sort of little punk under house arrest.”