afford to do. It’s sad when someone else’s problems become our good fortune, but better that than the other way around, I suppose. Saul and I had enough misery already.
The trip from Montreal to Miami was easy. Amin wheeled Saul through the airport and onto the plane, then strapped him into the seat beside me. At the other end, a porter was waiting with another wheelchair and got us to a limo I had arranged, and we were off to Port Everglades, in Fort Lauderdale.
As we turned the corner after the security checkpoint, the ship came into view. I could see the look on Saul’s face, like that of a child who was seeing his first towering vessel. He pressed his face against the window and his eyes widened. Then he turned toward me and smiled. I wondered if he somehow knew this was going to be his last vacation.
Our cabin was one of the larger suites, located on deck ten. I chose that one because it had an oversize balcony, big enough to maneuver the wheelchair Constellation provided. Although Saul used a wheelchair at home only occasionally, I thought with the motion of the sea and the long corridors, it would be easier. Amin was in an adjoining room, so that I wouldn’t have to go out into the hallway in the middle of the night if I needed him.
The first evening, I decided that Amin should roll Saul to the dining room on deck five, as it would be easier to leave him in the wheelchair than to move him into one of the chairs at the table by the window.
Saul had his own plan. He said he wanted to sit in one of the chairs. I made the mistake of telling him he should stay where he was. Next thing I knew, he bellowed and then swept his long arm over the table, leaving only a few plates and two water glasses standing, and a big mess on the taupe carpet. My face turned scarlet. I was petrified to turn around, wondering how many diners had witnessed his tantrum. It’s one thing when your friends know about his condition, or when you won’t see people again, but I had nine more nights to suffer through and excuses to make. I could feel the heat of hundreds of eyes boring into my back as I watched Amin and the waiters quickly clean up the mess.
We managed to get through dinner without another incident. Saul sat in a dining room chair between Amin and me, and we both helped him with his food. I drank a little too much and now know how dizzy Saul must feel every night.
Saul said he wanted to walk back to the suite, and I certainly wasn’t going to argue with him. It took almost half an hour, as he kept stopping and talking to both real and imaginary people. I was sure by now that everyone on the ship had either seen or heard about the crazy man and his entourage.
There was another incident I want to share with you. One day—I think it was about halfway into the cruise—we were sitting alone on the deck outside the Globe Lounge at teatime. Amin had secured the wheels on Saul’s wheelchair and left us alone so he could get some well-deserved time off. I placed a straw in the ice tea and put the glass within Saul’s reach. He picked it up, put the straw in his mouth, and took a big sip. Then he put the glass back on the table, but he didn’t release his hand. Seconds later, he picked up the glass and drank again. This went on until the tea was drained. Then he stared at the empty glass for a moment and proceeded to pick it up and try to drink again. He did this over and over.
I told him there was nothing left and that he should put the glass down. He just looked through me. I told him again. He turned to me and smiled as he smashed the glass against the table. Then he picked up a large shard and sliced it across his arm, drawing a red river of blood.
I must have shrieked loudly enough to wake up all the sea life below. Two waiters raced outside. One grabbed the piece of glass from Saul’s hand, cutting himself in the process; the other one rushed back into the lounge, heading toward a telephone by the bar.
Moments later,
The trip from Montreal to Miami was easy. Amin wheeled Saul through the airport and onto the plane, then strapped him into the seat beside me. At the other end, a porter was waiting with another wheelchair and got us to a limo I had arranged, and we were off to Port Everglades, in Fort Lauderdale.
As we turned the corner after the security checkpoint, the ship came into view. I could see the look on Saul’s face, like that of a child who was seeing his first towering vessel. He pressed his face against the window and his eyes widened. Then he turned toward me and smiled. I wondered if he somehow knew this was going to be his last vacation.
Our cabin was one of the larger suites, located on deck ten. I chose that one because it had an oversize balcony, big enough to maneuver the wheelchair Constellation provided. Although Saul used a wheelchair at home only occasionally, I thought with the motion of the sea and the long corridors, it would be easier. Amin was in an adjoining room, so that I wouldn’t have to go out into the hallway in the middle of the night if I needed him.
The first evening, I decided that Amin should roll Saul to the dining room on deck five, as it would be easier to leave him in the wheelchair than to move him into one of the chairs at the table by the window.
Saul had his own plan. He said he wanted to sit in one of the chairs. I made the mistake of telling him he should stay where he was. Next thing I knew, he bellowed and then swept his long arm over the table, leaving only a few plates and two water glasses standing, and a big mess on the taupe carpet. My face turned scarlet. I was petrified to turn around, wondering how many diners had witnessed his tantrum. It’s one thing when your friends know about his condition, or when you won’t see people again, but I had nine more nights to suffer through and excuses to make. I could feel the heat of hundreds of eyes boring into my back as I watched Amin and the waiters quickly clean up the mess.
We managed to get through dinner without another incident. Saul sat in a dining room chair between Amin and me, and we both helped him with his food. I drank a little too much and now know how dizzy Saul must feel every night.
Saul said he wanted to walk back to the suite, and I certainly wasn’t going to argue with him. It took almost half an hour, as he kept stopping and talking to both real and imaginary people. I was sure by now that everyone on the ship had either seen or heard about the crazy man and his entourage.
There was another incident I want to share with you. One day—I think it was about halfway into the cruise—we were sitting alone on the deck outside the Globe Lounge at teatime. Amin had secured the wheels on Saul’s wheelchair and left us alone so he could get some well-deserved time off. I placed a straw in the ice tea and put the glass within Saul’s reach. He picked it up, put the straw in his mouth, and took a big sip. Then he put the glass back on the table, but he didn’t release his hand. Seconds later, he picked up the glass and drank again. This went on until the tea was drained. Then he stared at the empty glass for a moment and proceeded to pick it up and try to drink again. He did this over and over.
I told him there was nothing left and that he should put the glass down. He just looked through me. I told him again. He turned to me and smiled as he smashed the glass against the table. Then he picked up a large shard and sliced it across his arm, drawing a red river of blood.
I must have shrieked loudly enough to wake up all the sea life below. Two waiters raced outside. One grabbed the piece of glass from Saul’s hand, cutting himself in the process; the other one rushed back into the lounge, heading toward a telephone by the bar.
Moments later,
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