Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: FEET (01/17/19)
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TITLE: Sole Care | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
01/21/19 -
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After she’d retrieved the napkin from me, she wiped up the table and brought her drink on over. “I usually don’t pick up customers this way,” she said. “Name’s Jenn. I’m a podiatrist.”
I adjusted my own chai tea and looked her in the eyes. “So, Jenn, what makes you think I’m in the market for a foot doctor?”
The dimples in her cheeks deepened with her smile as she tilted her head and allowed the blond ringlets to dangle freely in parallel with her Olympic logo earrings. “I’d say gentlemen are rare these days and that gold medal around your neck begged for a conversation.”
“So, you’re saying you weren’t looking at my feet?”
Her left hand fidgeted with the crescent moon fixed to the end of a gold chain. She slipped out of the booth and got down on her knees in front of me. “I probably should have you come to my office before I say this but have you got someone taking care of those feet?”
People were staring and I motioned her to get back up on the cushioned nook. I waved at a few of the faces focused in our direction before turning back to Jenn. “You’re going to have everyone thinking you’re proposing.”
“Is that what it would take to see those feet?”
I swigged another slurp of chai tea and watched her plunge her straw through another mound of tapioca balls. “Answer a few skill testing questions and I’ll consider my options,” I answered.
“Shoot,” she said.
I held up my index finger for starters. “One. How do I deal with dry flaky skin between my toes?”
She nodded and took another sip before responding. “Hygiene is critical so I hope you’re washing with soapy water, drying between the toes every time. A wet cloth can take care of dry skin before they turn into open sores. I always say that sole care is the foundation of soul care.”
I drained my cup and set it down firmly. “Are you telling me that you’re religious?”
Jenn stirred the tapioca balls slowly and then looked at me again. “I don’t consider myself to be religious but I do take seriously my relationship with my Creator.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “You see this gold medal, right? I earned it. Running.”
She stayed silent anticipating my questions.
“Not even two hours after I had this medal hung around my neck, some drunk from another country ran me over and I haven’t been able to use my feet again. If this Creator of yours exists, why would he let something like this happen?”
She took a deep breath and both hands squeezed her cup a little tighter. “I really don’t know all the answers,” she said. “I know he loves you and I know he’s got a reason. I just felt led to come and talk to you about your feet.”
I shrugged and looked out the window. “The corns and callouses bug me. I’ve got a few cracks that bleed. The stupidest thing is that I’ve got athletes foot which drives me crazy because I can’t do anything about it.”
“What about edema. Do your feet swell up?”
“That’s no surprise, is it? Maybe you could pray to this Creator of yours and make it all better?”
Jenn stood, nodded once, and took a step away. “I didn’t mean to invade your space,” she said. “I saw the shoes you had on and it didn’t look like they were keeping your feet in alignment or on the chair. Circulation is so important but I should not presume anything about whether you want my help or not. I was just wondering if you ever hoped to dance again.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
She sat back down again. “One day, each of us will face our Maker whether we’re happy with life here or not. You just need to think about where your feet will take their first steps.”
“Okay, I’m listening, but you’re pushing this wheelchair to the office.”
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