Troy Fisher woke up one Monday morning expecting to go to school. But that’s not what happened.

His mom made him his usual breakfast of Captain Cocoa cereal, one piece of toast lightly buttered and orange juice. She kissed his cheek after he finished eating and handed him his lunch bag.

“Baloney, cheese, mayo on rye with an apple on the side,” she called out, just the way cooks did at diners.

Troy’s dad was a cook. So it was a family joke at every mealtime that someone would call out the menu.

“Check,” Troy said, putting the lunch bag into his red backpack.

“Let’s get you outside,” his mom said. She went out the door and called their neighbor, Mr. Peters, to come over and help lift Troy’s wheelchair down the front steps.

Troy waited until Mr. Peters came in. Then he rolled to the front door. His mother and Mr. Peters lifted him down to the ground. Troy hated this, but his family had recently moved and there wasn’t enough money to build a ramp yet.

He thanked them and pushed his wheelchair toward the curb to wait for the school bus. The regular school bus didn’t have a lift, so Troy couldn’t ride with his classmates . He had to ride on a smaller bus by himself . Because Troy had been born with spina bifida, he couldn’t walk.

On the first day of school, Troy always explained to the other kids what spina bifida was. He told them that babies get spina bifida when there is an opening in the spine that damages the nerves – meaning that messages may not get to and from the brain which means a person can’t move their muscles the way others do. For Troy, it meant that his legs were paralyzed so he used a wheelchair.

Troy didn’t like waiting alone for the bus. He always looked down the block at the other kids standing together, talking. He pulled out his Gameboy to play while he was waiting.

He turned on the Gameboy and then he realized that something strange was happening. First he heard a buzzing sound that kept getting louder. Then there was a series of lights – bright, flashing lights. Then he felt the ground underneath him moving.Troy’s wheelchair began to spin in circles. He held onto his Gameboy tightly, not wanting to lose it like his last one. His dad had really been mad when Troy came home from school without it and there was no way he was going to go through that again.

In the meantime, however, he was getting pretty worried that he might lose more than his Gameboy. Troy held onto his left wheelchair tire as trees, houses and bushes spun around him faster and faster.

Then he felt his wheelchair drop, but not the way it did when he went down a ramp or even over a speed bump. It was as if he was being sucked into a hole. Suddenly all he saw was darkness, like the inside of a tunnel without any lights on.

“Oh boy,” he heard himself say as the bottom fell out of his world.

Troy and his wheelchair landed gently – somewhere. He was holding onto his Gameboy, which looked okay. At least the screen wasn’t cracked which surprised him.

Then he looked up. Around him was a world he’d never seen before, one that made him blink his eyes.

He was on a street where everything was flat. There were sidewalks but no curbs. There were buildings but no steps. There were stores and pizza parlors and even a bike shop.

Troy stuffed his Gameboy into his backpack and began to roll down the street. At first he thought he was the only one there, but then he began to notice other people. They were all in wheelchairs.

There were kids his age in red, blue and yellow wheelchairs. He also saw adults in wheelchairs. One boy was flying a kite at the end of the street. He waved to Troy, then rolled quickly, building up speed as the yellow kite lifted high into the sky.

Outside the pizza parlor, a man in a wheelchair was reading a newspaper. Troy leaned down to try to read the name of the town, but he couldn’t see the front page.

“Ahem,” the man said. “Do you mind? It’s my paper.”

“Sorry,” Troy said. “I was just wondering where I am.”

The man folded the newspaper up and stuck it under his arm. He was wearing a dark suit and looked like Troy’s father did when they all got dressed up for a wedding or party. “I’m Ray. What’s your name?” the man asked.

“Troy Fisher. I was waiting for the school bus and suddenly everything started to spin-“

“Did you eat breakfast? That’ll happen if you don’t eat.”

“I had breakfast. All of it. I don’t know what happened or why I’m here,” Troy said. “I like it here though. It looks – very accessible.”

Ray shrugged. “I don’t know what that word means, but I’m glad you like our town.”

“You’re in a wheelchair and you don’t know what accessible means?” Troy asked.

“What does it mean?” Ray asked.

“Accessible means you can get your wheelchair inside places – like they have a ramp or a curbcut. You know – ways to get around steps.”

“Steps? Why would anyone build steps?” Ray shook his head. “You must come from a very strange place.”

“Well,” Troy said, looking up and down the street where more and more people in wheelchairs were appearing, “where I come from not everyone is in a wheelchair.”

Ray’s mouth dropped open. “Really? How strange.” He leaned forward. “How do they get around?”

“They walk.”

Ray stroked his chin and thought about that for a while. “Odd. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone who walks. I’ve read about it in books though and once in a while I see someone in a movie play a person who walks, but it’s rare. You know,” he said, leaning forward “walking is a very inefficient mode of transportation, don’t you think?”

“I do,” Troy agreed. He was always telling his friends that. “I like this place.”

“Let me show you around,” Ray offered.

The two of them rolled down the main street. Troy noticed that the street was smoothly paved and every doorway was wide enough to easily roll through. In fact, he rolled through most of them just because he could. It was fun.

They passed a playground that was full of ramps. Children in wheelchairs were rolling around happily, going up and down the brightly colored ramps, playing freely.

There was a little pink ice cream shop with tables all set up for people in wheelchairs – no regular chairs, just places to roll into. A man in a wheelchair was serving ice cream from a low window that was a perfect height for Troy when he rolled up. He could even see inside the shop where there was a popcorn dispenser too.

In fact, everything was lowered to the right height. Phone booths, ATM machines and newspaper stands were all low enough to reach easily.

Troy also didn’t have to worry about watching where he rolled. There were no curbs and no edges to roll off.

“I don’t see any traffic. Where are the cars? ” Troy asked.

Ray looked at him. “We don’t allow any cars on the main street. People park a few blocks over. It’s safer. If they want to, they can rent a handcycle.” He pointed at the bike shop.

Troy looked inside. There were handcycles, bikes that you push with your hands and arms, inside. There were handcycles in every color imaginable. “You can rent them?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Where I come from, only a few people own them. They’re very expensive.”

“That’s too bad,” Ray said. “And not very practical. Or fun.” He patted Troy’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’d like living where you come from too much.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Troy said. “But you guys have better ideas here.”

They spent the day together, eating lunch in the park , then riding handcycles around town. Troy had never experienced such freedom in his life. He wanted to try out everything- and he could. There was nothing out of his reach, nothing that wasn’t designed to work for him.

And then he realized that it was getting late. He asked Ray what time it was.

“Four o’clock,” Ray answered.

“Four already? I have to get home. My mom’s going to be worried.” Troy looked around. “But how do I get home? I don’t really know how I got here.”

It was then that he saw the sign on one shop. It simply read “Travel Agency.” Troy figured that was the best place to go. Maybe they could get him back home.

So he and Ray rolled into the building. “This is Peg, our travel agent extraordinaire,” Ray said, introducing Troy to a pretty woman in a wheelchair who was about his mother’s age.

“How can I help you, young man?” Peg asked.

“I need to go home,” Troy said.

“I see. Where do you live?”

“The United States of America.”

Peg looked at Ray. “Where?”

“Well, actually I live in a state there. There are fifty states, you know. I just live in one. Because you can only be in one place at a time. I think.” After today, Troy wasn’t so sure.

“Tell me which state you live in. Maybe I’ve heard of it.”

“Pennsylvania.”

Peg shook her head. “No, never heard of that. I tell you what though. Let’s get a map out and we can look it up by the attitude.”

Troy watched as Peg went over to a wall and pulled down a map. “You mean latitude?” he asked.

“Attitude. Watch this.” Peg picked up a pointer. “You see this place? Frustration.”

Sure enough, there was a dot for a place named Frustration Falls on the map. There were also dots for places named Discontent and Grumpyland. Those were the biggest towns. Troy rolled closer and he could see tiny dots with lots of other names. But there wasn’t any dot called Pennsylvania.

“I don’t know,” Troy said. “I don’t see where I live.”

“But you must live somewhere. This is a universal map, my friend. It works for everyone. Believe me, as soon as we figure out where you’re heading, you’ll get there.” Peg hit the pointer on the map, emphasizing her words.

“But I have no idea where I’m heading.”

“Don’t any of these places sound familiar to you?” Peg asked.

Troy hung his head. They did. The names of the places sounded the way he thought about things sometimes, but he was too embarrassed to say that out loud.

Neither Peg nor Ray said anything. Then Peg spoke up.

“I have just the thing,” she replied. She rolled over to her desk and opened up the largest drawer. From it she pulled out a black box that made a noise as if it had marbles in it. She put it on her desk and motioned for Troy to roll over.

“This is the Destination Box. It helps you determine where you’re going. All you have to do is put your hands in the holes.“ Peg pointed to two holes on the side of the box. Troy reluctantly put his hands into the holes. “That’s right. Now feel around,” Peg suggested.

He expected there to be marbles inside but instead all he felt was empty air. Disappointed, he frowned, but he kept moving his hands around the box.

“Feel anything?” Peg asked.

“No.”

“Then you’re just not trying hard enough. Maybe part of you wants to stay put.”

“But I have to get home to my mom.”

“Doesn’t matter. If you’d rather stay here, we can try this tomorrow.” Peg started to pull the box away.

“I want to go home- I do. It’s just that – it’s so accessible here,” Troy said.

“Accessible?” Peg asked, looking confused.

“He keeps using that word,” Ray whispered to Peg. “He comes from a place where there are – steps.”

“Oooh,” she said, nodding. “I see. Well, that would explain your Transcontinental Dissonance.”

“My what?”

“It’s a very long phrase meaning that you don’t know whether you want to come or go.” Peg patted his shoulder. “You have to make up your mind. I can’t help you. If you don’t want to leave, you just won’t feel anything even if you keep your hands in that box for days. Weeks. Months.”

“I get the idea,” Troy said. He shut his eyes. “I want to go home. I’m sure I want to go home,” he told himself. But what he really wanted was to bring this place home with him. He didn’t want to go back to having to worry about whether things were accessible. He didn’t want to be the only kid at school in a wheelchair. He didn’t want to leave a place where a bike shop was full of handcycles. And he didn’t want to have to be lifted in and out of his own home. He didn’t want to go back to feeling discontented, frustrated and grumpy.

“Feel anything?” Ray asked.

Troy shook his head no. Of course this was a lie. He was feeling a lot. But it wasn’t anything he wanted to say out loud.

Peg shrugged. “I hate to do this, but I’ve seen this happen before. When you mentioned steps, I was afraid we’d have to resort to this.” She pulled the black box away and put it back into the drawer. Out of the same drawer she whisked out a black cloth covered with gold stars, about the size of a dish towel.

“What’s that?” Troy asked.

“An Overhead Planetary Locator,” Peg replied.

“How’s it work?” Ray asked.

“Simple really. You put it over the traveler’s head and it figures out where he’s from. Kind of gets past the dissonance thing.”

“Ever use it before?” Ray asked.

“Just once. Had this guy come in here whose spaceship crashed. Anyway, it worked. I just don’t like using it too often because it can get messy.”

“Messy how?” Troy asked.

“Let’s just say we’re not using it in my shop – or anywhere near it. Let’s go to the park.” With that, Peg put the cloth into her lap and rolled outside.

Troy and Ray followed her down the street to the park. Peg led them to a far corner, near a bunch of trees and picnic benches.

“Okay now, remember that this is our last resort. If this doesn’t work, we’re just going to have to dig deeper. And maybe a little more honesty wouldn’t hurt,” Peg said, clearing her throat.

Troy nodded uncomfortably.

“You ready?” Peg asked. “Say your goodbyes. This will work fast. If it works.”

Troy reached over and shook Ray’s hand. Then, with a lump in his throat, he nodded at Peg. “Ready.”

Peg threw the cloth over Troy’s head. Nothing happened.

“Well,” Peg said. “There’s a reason you can’t travel. I guess we’re going to have a little talk.”

So she started asking Troy about how he felt about going home. He told her all of the things he didn’t like. He listed them. He explained them. And Peg listened carefully.

Then she asked him what positive things there were about going home. Troy told her how much he loved his parents. He said there were things back home they didn’t have in this town, even though it was such a nice place to visit. And as he talked, he could feel something strange happening.

Suddenly he felt himself spinning, just like he had earlier. But this time his wheelchair sent him not only in circles, but moved him like a gyroscope, as if he was suspended in space.

Everything and everyone disappeared. Troy realized that he was Nowhere for a minute and , as soon as he realized that, he felt his wheelchair land.

He shook his head until the cloth fell off. He was sitting in his wheelchair by the bus stop. But it was dark outside. The minute he saw that he knew he was in big trouble.

His mother grounded him for two weeks – one week for skipping school and one week for “hiding somewhere” after skipping school.

Troy thought he got off pretty easy, considering what she might have done if she found out where he really was that day.

So he went to his room and opened his backpack. The lunch bag with the baloney sandwich was still in it . He noticed an object in his backpack. At first he thought it was his Gameboy. But it wasn’t. His Gameboy was gone. In its place was this new device that was the same size and shape of his Gameboy.

Troy quickly found a button on its side and flipped it on. The screen lit up. “Welcome,” it read. “This is your Transcontinental Transporter. Simply click on the desired characteristics of your destination and you will be immediately transported there. Each trip is limited to a stay of eight hours after which you will be returned to your starting destination.”

Troy hit another button and watched as two screens came up. The first screen read “New Destinations” and listed all kinds of descriptions of places, such as beaches, mountains and lakes. It instructed the user to click on a box.

But the second screen was the one that caught his attention. On that screen he read the words “Favorite Destinations” and there was one box which was already checked off. It simply read “Accessible.”

Copyright 2007 Ruth Harrigan