Artie's Battering Ram Wheelchair
Artie Abrams rolled confidently down the hallway donning his new lettermen's jacket. He got to his locker, turned the combination and when he opened the door, a tiny wheelchair was hanging inside on a thin gold string.
"What the hell?" he asked shocked to see the swinging chair.
"You like it?" Finn Hudson asked from above him.
"Uh, what is it?" Artie asked taking it out of his locker.
"It's a wheelchair," Finn said slightly confused by the question.
"Yeah. I get that but..."
"Oh you mean why is it jacked up?"
"Yeah," Artie said as he shut his locker door.
"Oh, 'cause you're on the football team now," Finn answered as he began to push Artie down the hall.
"So, remember when I told you that you were going to be like a battering ram?"
"Yeah, I remember," the handi-capable boy answered.
"Well that's what I pictured," Finn said proudly. Artie looked down at the ornament in his hand.
It was black, red and white. It's thick wheels had spikes on them and the legs formed a long block; the battering ram.
"It's cool man. Thank you," Artie said smiling up at Finn.
"It's cool. I just wanted you to know that we were right. You can do this," Finn said returning the smile. "You shouldn't give up just 'cause of the chair, Artie. You define that chair, it doesn't define you."
"Thanks Finn," Artie said when they stopped in front of the choir room.
"You're welcome, Artie. We should all push each other, you know," Finn said as he pushed his friend into the room. "We'd get places faster."
"Right, well, thanks for pushing me," he said fist bumping the tall teen.
"Wherever I am. Forever," Finn said pulling Artie into a tight embrace.