My Uncle Wiley~~~~~~~~~~~~Sheila Faith

My Uncle Wiley, twinkling blue eyes looking out from his wrinkled, unshaven face, his faded red hair mixed liberally with gray, unwashed, and uncombed. His clothes were dirty and in need of repair; but the cane was new.

I had not seen him since the accident; they did not allow small children at the hospital. But I remember the day it happened. It was near our house. A deep snow had fallen the night before and the roads were icy. I had watched from our front porch as much as the cold would allow.

Daddy came rushing into the house calling for blankets, his brother was trapped under a car in Oscar’s hayfield. He had been walking with his friend, Elmer, which was their custom. Elmer, who lived across the street from our house, was blind since childhood, and used a cane. They were walking up the road to my uncle’s house when a car came around the curve too fast and lost control. It struck both men. Elmer was hurt too, but not seriously, because my uncle had tried to push him out of the way.

We were so far out in the country and with the condition of the roads it would take the ambulance a long time to arrive. The temperature was in the teens with a wind-chill at minus zero. Daddy was near panic; it frightened me.

He rushed back to the scene. Several neighbors had gathered, but none had much hope for my uncle’s survival. They were all of the opinion that trying to move the car and drag him out was futile, and the fact that they were all just standing around watching, angered my dad. He ordered them to ‘help me get my brother out of there!’. It may have been the anger mixed with fear in his voice that brought them out, but they worked together and relieved my uncle’s broken body from the weight of the car.

It was sometime later that I heard the sirens, the ambulance and police arrived. I suppose they did some medical treatment at the scene. When Daddy returned to the house, he was sure Wiley wouldn’t make it. He pulled off his coat in order to get dressed to go to the hospital. He removed a 38 special from his pocket.

“It’s Wiley’s” he explained, “I didn’t want the police to find it on him. I think Ock took Elmer’s”

A blind man with a gun, now that’s scary.

Uncle Wiley had many injuries, the worst of which were his leg was crushed. There was nothing else to do, but remove it just above the knee. It was still touch and go for a while, but he did pull through, that Irish stubbornness can be an access.

Several months later he was fitted with a prosthetic leg. He wasn’t able to live alone after his release, so he was taken in by the people who lived in our rent house. I think the daughter had a crush on him, and at one time, I believe, they were engaged.

It didn’t take him long to learn to walk, and he managed the short distance, including the down and up hill that was our driveway. Now, as he walked across the living room and eased himself down onto our couch, I couldn’t help but stare.

“Wanna see it?” His gruff voice reminded me of my manners, and morbid curiosity caused me to nod even as my mind screamed Run!

As he pulled his pant’s leg up, I saw the shinny pinkness of the leg. He pulled it over his knee and explained to me how the new knee worked, and showed me how he could bend it. I sat beside him and examined the workings of the strange contraption.

I asked him if it hurt. He nodded, but grinned, as if say “yeah, maybe a normal man, but I can take it.”

Winter came and went and by the next Summer things were back to normal, more or less. Uncle Wiley could walk well with his new leg and cane, even drunk, we discovered. Elmer had recovered quickly spending less than a week in the hospital. He and Wiley resumed their Friday and Saturday night parties at Elmer’s house. I could hear the music, the loud voices and laughter, and the occasional gun fire through my open bedroom window.

By day I would watch them walk along the road, the cripple and the blind man. The cripple leading the blind man, Elmer steadying Wiley. Both with canes, 38 specials and probably still half lit. It was indeed a sight to see—to see such loyal friends.