Shocking Sapphires - Ann Omasta Page 0,47
gave me a knowing look and winked that she understood.
Turning to the woman I loved as she held our son, I said, “It’s time for me to head backstage to get ready.”
Molly nodded and said, “Okay… Break a leg.”
The look of horror arose immediately when she realized what she had said. Her shoulders raised up almost to her ears.
Wanting to ease her pained expression, I took her tiny hand within mine and leaned in close to say, “Hey, listen to me… It’s all right. You don’t ever need to worry about saying the wrong idiom or phrase to me. I’m tougher than I look, and I love you to pieces. Nothing could ever change that. Got it?”
At Molly’s nod, I gave her and Scout quick pecks on their cheeks before wheeling around to go backstage.
My nerves began to truly kick in as we gathered behind the curtain. For better or worse, tonight was going to determine the course of the rest of my life.
The other guys weren’t used to performing, so they needed me to be their calm, confident leader, but I was too wired to give them a proper pre-show pep talk. Instead, I had them gather around and said, “Let’s do this!”
They gave a collective “whoop!” of excitement as the curtain was swept open just enough for me to wheel myself onstage and out to the protruding apron.
The crowd gave me a warm welcome as I went to the microphone that had already been adjusted properly for me. Once the clapping died down, I began my speech. Although I knew what I wanted to say, I hadn’t rehearsed it or written down any notes––preferring instead to talk to them genuinely, like good friends.
“Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming out on this gorgeous evening. I’d like to extend a special welcome to the guests of honor in the front section here.”
When I splayed my hands to indicate the cordoned off section for attendees with disabilities, the crowd applauded and released a few high-pitched whistles.
After the noise died down, I said, “You know, I never gave much thought to what it’s really like to be in a wheelchair, until I was forced into one myself. It presents some logistical challenges that most people never realize.”
My gaze zeroed in on Molly as she beamed up at me. I knew she was going to be surprised to see so many people she’d grown up with on this stage.
“They always say not to judge a man, until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes. Well, I’d like to amend that walking line to rolling a mile in his chair.”
Right on cue, the red velvet curtain swept open to reveal Max Malone, Alex Biggs, Dean Waters, and Levi Ryan lined up behind me and sitting in wheelchairs of their own.
The crowd tittered at seeing several local favorites on the stage.
“These men have seen first-hand what it is like to be confined to a chair because while we were at practice, I wouldn’t let them stand up for anything. When they weren’t able to reach the cups in a high cabinet, couldn’t get where they wanted to go without facing stairs, or needed to go through a door that wasn’t automatic, I made them figure it out.”
“They all commented how shocked they were by the level of difficulty in just moving around and doing ordinary things in a wheelchair, and we only practiced for two hours a day. The true heroes here tonight are these wonderful people right up front, who face these kinds of challenges day in and day out, without complaint.”
Sweeping my hands out to encompass the front rows, I said, “Let’s give them a round of applause.”
The crowd quickly complied… clapping, cheering, and hollering.
Once the noise died down, I pointed to each of the wheelchair-bound individuals and said, “This dance is dedicated to you.”
After I replaced the mic and took my place on the stage, “Proud Mary” began playing over the sound system, and the audience went wild.
By the time we hit the chorus of the song, the entire crowd had joined in the fun by singing, clapping, and dancing.
We circled our chairs around the stage as Tina Turner’s energetic voice sang, “Big wheels keep on turnin’. Proud Mary keep on burnin’.”
Our group quickly turned so that our chairs faced the inside of the circle, then we raised and lowered our hands as Tina chanted, “Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ on the river.”
Quickly picking up on the rhythm, the crowd began raising and