It began after I finished my afternoon ESL class at Pasadena City College.  I pushed my wheelchair to the Academic Learning Center, located on the third floor of the L Building.  It seemed like I had never gotten tired of pushing my wheelchair every day.  There was a ramp to the second floor, but not to the third.  The only way to get up to the third floor was by an elevator.  There, I looked around to see if there was an available computer to check my e-mail.  The sound of computer keyboards was constantly crackling, as if they were trying to beat the clock.  Several students in one of the corners of the room laughed, while others remained quiet and typed their papers.  In the middle of the room between the reception and the computer desk, one student just finished logging off of the computer.  He got up from a chair, slung his backpack on his shoulder, pushed the chair back against the desk, then trudged toward the exit.  I quickly wheeled there and parked.  On my right side was an empty seat.  While I was waiting for the computer login screen to come on, an African American girl brushed my shoulder and clumsily sat on that empty seat.  She switched on the computer.  We looked at one another.   

“Hi,” she said, with a smile.

“Hi,” I said and also smiled back, fumbling with the keyboard.

“What happened to you?” she asked.   

“I got into a car accident.”

“Do you go to church?”  

“No.”

“That is why,” she said flatly, staring at me and leaning forward a little bit.    

That is why? I thought, not smiling.  That is why what?  Our voices ceased.  I did not look at her as I continued checking my emails.  My finger clicked on the computer mouse as if it had its own mind.  My mind just kept thinking what she had said about going to church.  I did not know what the hell she meant “that is why.”  Perhaps she meant that if I did not go to church, I deserved to be confined in a wheelchair for the rest of my life.  Perhaps she meant that if I did not believe in god, I deserved to be punished and could not be saved.  Is this god’s way to show his children to love one another?  Loving your enemy is like loving your neighbors.  I wondered why she came right at me, biting me, and it hurt.  I just met her less than two minutes ago, and she assumed that I needed help because I could not walk.  I asked myself whether I was the only person who encountered this kind of problem.  It bothered me.  I gritted my teeth and swallowed hard a couple times, as if swallowing hard liquor.  It was as if someone had stuck a sharp needle in all my fingers and toes.  My stomach twitched because of a spasm resulting from the spinal cord injury.  Not a word came out of my mouth because I had a very upset stomach.  And no remedy could cure it.  I felt the blood in my brain boiling and felt the heat on my face like a blaze burning my skin up.