Gathering all my strength, I held onto my father's arm. He carried me down the stairs with great care, pausing to allow my mother to unfold the wheelchair again. Once I was seated in the wheelchair, my father took a moment to catch his breath.

"This boy is getting heavy," he said, his tone light and playful.

"I've been saying we should invest in one of those stairlift chairs. It would make things easier for us."

"I won't disagree with that, Martha. But right now, we have more pressing priorities."

Aware of my parents' financial struggles, I understood their challenges. My mother's job as a bookstore clerk and my father's less-than-successful career as a vacuum cleaner salesman barely made ends meet. Sometimes, I inadvertently caught snippets of their conversations about possibly selling the house or my dad's van to manage some of my medical costs.

We left the house, my mother guiding the wheelchair. My dad opened the van doors, pulling out the ramp stored underneath. Once I was securely in place, my mother locked the wheels on my chair and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead. As both of my parents went back inside the house, a figure resembling a cowgirl suddenly appeared beside my window.

"Howdy mate. Mind if I hitch a ride on this mechanical horse of yours?" The cowgirl's appearance had slightly changed since I last saw her. The angel playing the trumpet, matching the charm I'd seen before, was now embellished on her hat. She seemed a bit older as well, understanding that maybe there was more than one cowgirl. Curiously, she appeared to be sitting atop an invisible horse, its whiny sound resonated around us.

I exerted effort to open the door, watching her dismount her unseen horse on the sidewalk before stepping into the van.

"Wow, this is way more comfortable than my saddle back on the horse. I bet you travel in style most of the time."

The van was modified by my father to include a single seat behind the driver's seat, with ample space for my wheelchair. I heard the horse's whinny once more, yet the horse remained invisible. "Aren't you going to move your horse from the sidewalk?"

"Ah, my horse, Pinto. He'll be fine. No one can see him except for me. Now, his droppings? Well, that's a different story. Someone might step in it and not even realize their shoes are covered in... ah, manure? That's the name of it?"

"I think you're trying to refer to the word, poop."

"Yeah! That's the one!"

She leaned in, whispering in my ear. "I have to use the proper words, or my boss will be very angry at me if she finds out I don't pick up my horse's dodo. She is always watching."

Her humorous comment triggered a burst of laughter from me, just as my mother opened the passenger door. Noticing my door was still open, my mother came back and closed it for me. "I thought, I closed this door," she said, remaining a bit thoughtful. "And what's got you laughing, Sammy?"

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

I was at a loss for words. Neither my mother nor father could see these new friends I had encountered over the past few days. "Just something I remembered."

My mother settles in the front seat as my father takes the wheel in the van. "Do you have the address of the new location?"

"I have it here, Ray. Just drive. Take the highway out of the city, the new building is right off the exit ramp."

Cowgirl became curious, watching my father inserting the key into the ignition. The van's engine roars to life and begins to move. "How did you manage to get this iron stallion? How many cows did you have to trade for it?"

"I think none. This belongs to my dad, and it's not a stallion, it's called a van." Her presence, much like the Pirate Boy, made me curious. They typically vanished when my parents were nearby.

With a lower tone, I pose a question. "Aren't you going to fade away now that my parents are right here with us?"

"We do that for your sake. Many kids tell their parents about us or get scared and alert them. But it's impossible for them to see us. It all depends on how you react and how you acknowledge our presence. So far, you've handled it very well. Aren't you curious about what your parents would say if you told them about us being around?"

"They'd probably think I'm losing my mind. I really enjoy your company, especially now. It's because nobody seems to want to spend time with someone who's crippled like me."

"We're going to have loads of fun!" she said, pulling out one of her plastic guns and playfully firing it at the ceiling. "Whoops!" she giggled. "Don't worry, they can't notice us. Just whisper when you want to talk to me."

Suddenly, an Indian figure materialized in front of my father's van, seemingly riding the same invisible horse. Pirate Boy appeared, now mounted on Pinto. He looked at us and smiled, like challenging us in a race. He was different this time, wearing a warbonnet embellished with various feathers and war paint decorating his face.

"Oh no! he didn't! He stole my horse, Pinto!"

I smiled at their effort to keep me entertained.

"He will pay for this atrocity!" the cowgirl said.

She playfully pulled out her gun and pretended to fire a shot that ricocheted inside the van, humorously hitting my father's foot on the accelerator. My father, oblivious to the imaginary scenario, was unaware he was actually driving over the speed limit.

"Let's get this thief, iron stallion!" Cowgirl shouted.

Then, with a lasso, the cowgirl swings it around the steering wheel, wrapping it around my father's hands, as if restricting his movement.

"I got the reins now! let's get that Indian thief!" She moves the lasso around, forcing the van to drive right behind Pirate Boy.

"What is going on? I can't take my hands off the wheel!" My father said.

The van swings around, moving in between other cars on the highway, chasing after Pirate Boy and Pinto.

"Wow, Ray! I've never seen you in such a hurry before!" My mother said.

Although the fantasy was entertaining, I felt it was time to ease the playful chase. Turning to her, I asked, "Could you be nice to let Pirate Boy ride your horse?"

The cowgirl turned toward me, her face breaking into a smile. "Of course! Since you asked so nicely!" she exclaimed. Immediately, she swings her lasso back, retrieving it from the steering wheel. "There you go!"

I felt a sense of relief that we were able to resolve the playful quarrel so easily. The chase had been both fun and a little bit thrilling, with a bit of fear mixed up with the chase, all within the safe bounds of our shared adventure.