It was a blurry and rainy morning when she pulled into the hospital parking lot. It was as if the elements always detected weakness and disease and brought forth the complementary precipitations. The wind blew fiercely, slapping her reddened cheeks, and the bitter rain made walking delicately a challenge.
As she approached the building, her gaze fell on an elderly man struggling with an elderly, immobalized woman in a wheelchair. His hand gripped her coat, the veins arching feebly, and as he heaved, he emitted a gut-wrenching groan. She fell helplessly back into her chair.
"Damnit woman, help me!" He cried passionately.
His face reddened and his eyes watered from agonizing strain. The woman merely sat, her gaze plastic and unmoving. The hair around her forehead matting as the rain pelted her uncovered pate.
She walked toward the couple, wondering how long this had been going on. The man lurched and pulled again - the desperate effort proving futile.
She approached, her mouth poised to offer help, when amidst the roar of wind she heard him cry,
"God, why me!? Why!?"
She stopped. Waited for the anguish to melt into the air and water.
Then,
"Can I help you, sir?" she asked.
Startled, the man looked at her, wiped his brow, and then relaxed his grip on the woman. The old woman slumped forward, began to murmur incoherently.
"No, we're fine." he answered.
And though she doubted him, she turned toward the hospital and continued walking. As she passed, she heard a triumphant "There!"
She looked back and saw him getting into the driver's side of a van, the old woman sitting in the front passenger seat.
Perhaps in times of human frailty, we need only know help exists.
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