Honestly, I didn't think it could happen. I've been stuck in a wheelchair since I was sixteen and just about anyone you asked would tell you that guys who were paralyzed couldn't have kids. No one thought it was possible. I remember being real disappointed cause I'd wanted a chance. A chance to be a better dad than the one I got. I met Wendy right in the middle of my senior year. She'd moved to Tulsa from Clarksville after her dad got transferred on business. We became friends pretty quickly even though I was just some disabled greaser and she was clearly better off than me. I mean, she's got a family who loves her and a good amount of money, too. But she still had to work. And I think that's what I really liked about her: she wasn't a soc or a greaser. She was just a normal girl. We started going out close to the end of that year - early May, I think. I got to know her parents and they kinda ended up becoming my family, too. It was just after graduation when I became a permanent resident of her house. Well, it was nothing official. I just stopped going back to my place. I don't think my parents even noticed. The kindness of her parents got me a college degree. I put in as much money as I could, but it still wasn't enough. Despite my protests, they covered the rest. And just like that, I was attending the University of Tulsa with Wendy. Graduation was looming pretty close by the time I finally got up the courage to ask her dad for another loan. He asked me why I needed it and I looked down at the floor, feeling my cheeks turn red. I told him I wanted to propose to his daughter. To my surprise, he was more than willing to help out. That same year - just two months after becoming a college graduate - I metaphorically got down on one knee. She said yes. We got married five years later. I'd found an office job that paid fairly well and we moved out of her parents' house. She found work as a veterinarian. For the first time in my life, I wasn't struggling to make ends meet. Our careers kept us really busy so we never got to talk about having kids. Just as well we avoided it. There wouldn't have been any good news for us... "Maybe we could adopt instead," Wendy suggested when the topic finally came up. "Maybe..." I didn't like the idea. So we kept trying to have our own. Wendy even got us help from all sorts of doctors. They gave me medicine, they gave her pills. But she just wasn't getting pregnant. I gave up. I still remember the day we found out. Wendy'd been telling me for weeks that she was concerned because her period was really late. I didn't bother hoping. It was much more likely that there was something wrong with her. So I took her to the hospital to get her checked out. The nurse came back in pretty quickly and she looked at us like we were the dumbest people she'd ever seen. "There's nothing wrong with you, Mrs. Cade," she said with an annoyed sigh. "You're just pregnant." And then Wendy started crying. She hugged me as tightly as she could. Through her tears, I heard her whispering, "We did it. Johnny, we did it." Over the next nine months, I watched with reverent fascination as her stomach got bigger, rounder. I kept thinking it wasn't possible. How could a cripple be this lucky? Each morning, I felt acute fear, realizing that maybe I'd been dreaming the whole time. But then I'd see Wendy and her amazingly, wonderfully swollen belly and I could relax again. Sometimes, I tried to call the number Dally had given me before he'd left. I just wanted him to know that I was gonna be a dad, too. Don't know how excited he'd be. I didn't get to find out, though. No one ever answered the phone... I left a couple messages. Then I gave up and stopped calling. Wendy went into labor on January 20th and gave birth the next afternoon. I held her hand through the entire ordeal. Glad to do it, too, except for the fact that she almost broke my fingers. Anyway, before supper-time we were the proud parents of Oliver Cade. We took him home after a couple days, showed him his room. Seven years later and I still can't believe he's actually mine. Of course, I would never doubt Wendy's loyalty. Ollie looks just like me, anyway. Dark hair and eyes, tanned skin. He gets his personality from his mom, though. He's so outgoing, it makes me nervous. I worry that he'll get himself hurt. It's a warm Sunday afternoon when it happens. I'm home from work, preparing to go back early tomorrow morning. Ollie runs up to me - all smiles, as usual. "Daddy, let's go on an adventure!" he says. "Sure thing, Ollie," I reply. "Where are we going?" He tells me it's a secret then runs off at full speed. I have no choice but to follow him. We sprint through the trees behind our house, heading toward the creek. Well, I guess I'm not really running... But in my defense, I am in a wheelchair. Inevitably, he gets far ahead of me and I lose sight of him. To make matters worse, a branch gets stuck in my wheels. I stop to fix it, bending over the side of the chair. It's only when I sit up that I realize I can't hear him anymore. "Ollie?" I call. Nothing. "Oliver!" I try again and again, pushing the wheels of my chair with renewed urgency. "Oliver Henry Cade, if you don't stop fooling around this instant, you're grounded!" Still nothing. I roll along the bank of the creek and it seems like an eternity before I find him. When I see him, I'm angry at first. I'd told him a million times not to go in the water. Then I notice he's not moving. I see blood on the rocks, quickly washed away by the current. My heart's racing. I push over to him, scoop his little body out of the water. There's a wicked gash across his forehead, still seeping blood. His breathing is shallow, but he's alive. Thank God, he's alive! I wheel us back to the house, adrenaline pumping through my body. Wendy's waiting for us on the back porch. A look of panic crosses her face, but before I can say anything, she turns and bolts inside. I get Ollie into the house, wrap a towel around his head. By the time I'm done, Wendy's hanging up the phone. "A-ambulance will be here soon," she says, moving to stand beside me. She runs her fingers through our little boy's hair. "What happened?" "I think he slipped... Down by the creek..." That's all I can think to say. The ambulance pulls up a half hour later and they take our only child away. We drive to the hospital behind them. We sit in the waiting room for what feels like hours. Nobody's telling us anything so we can only assume it's real bad. They must be losing him. That's all I'm thinking right now. He's gone. Our miracle is gone. I can't help but wonder if this is why people get bitter: cause they get hurt real bad. Part of me wishes I had listened to Dally all those years ago. I wish I could be tough like him. Finally, a nurse finds us. She smiles at me then my wife, though she still looks a little nervous. "We stitched Oliver up - good as new," she says. "He didn't lose as much blood as we thought so he didn't need any special treatment." "That's good to hear," I reply, squeezing Wendy's hand reassuringly. "Thank you so much." "Of course," she says, smile broadening. "The doctor's given him permission to be discharged, by the way. I'll bring you to him so you can get ready to go. Oh, and when you get home, give him juice and something to eat, okay? It'll help his body replenish the blood it lost." Wendy nods rapidly. "Y-yes, I'll do just that." We collect a rather sleepy-looking Oliver from the ER and begin the drive back home. It's still light outside so I assume we were only in the hospital for two hours. When we get home, I scoop up my son and place him on my lap. Wendy rushes ahead of us to get the juice and start making dinner. "You scared us a lot, Ollie," I say, voice gentle. "I'm sorry, Daddy..." he mumbles. I can hardly hear him cause his face is buried in my chest. He repeats his apology, slightly louder but still muffled. "I just wanted to play..." I hug him tightly and kiss his forehead. "I know, buddy. I know. I'm glad you're okay. Now let's get you inside. The doctor says you gotta eat if you want to feel healthy again." Once Ollie is situated with his apple juice and crackers, I walk over to the telephone. Wendy gives me a curious glance as I pass, but I ignore her. I start dialing, hold the phone up to my ear. It's ringing. Then I nearly jump out of my skin cause there's finally a voice, greeting me as cheerfully as I'd ever imagined. "What the hell do ya want?"