Nate

I sat there and stared into Brian’s eyes. I wanted so badly to believe that he could make everything all better. That I could just close my eyes and sink into his arms and it would be like nothing bad had ever happened. But I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I hadn’t told him everything. I hadn’t told him the worst part. That I wasn’t whole anymore.

“I grabbed you guys some ice cream!” I turned and saw Alex running toward us in the sand. “Holden was here for a bit but he had to take off. He had some guy on the boat with him but he didn’t introduce us,” he said with a shrug. “Here, I don’t think they’re too melted.” Alex handed each of us a wrapped ice cream bar.

“Thanks,” Brian said.

I felt terrible because I still had tears in my eyes and I didn’t want to speak. But Alex gave me a warm smile. “No problem,” he said to me even though I hadn’t said a word to him.

“Hey, we were thinking about heading home and ordering a pizza. You in?”

“Yeah, I could use something to eat. What about you?” I felt Brian squeeze my hand and looked back into his eyes.

“I don’t know,” I said, looking down. “I’m pretty beat. Maybe another time.”

“Okay, well, lets get out of here,” Alex said as he turned to go. “I feel like I could eat two pizzas myself.”

Brian and I stood and made our way back to the blanket. “Are you okay?” he asked with a mouthful of ice cream. “I thought maybe we could chill in my room a little. I mean, if you’re into it.”

“I am … I’m just … tired, I guess.” The ice cream bar was pretty much melted by the time I got halfway through and I watched the rest of it fall off the stick and into the sand. I felt like that pretty much symbolized my life right now. Nothing seemed to be working out the way I wanted it to.

“Here, take mine,” Brian said, but then his fell into the sand too. He looked up at me and started laughing. “I guess the ice cream wasn’t meant to be.”

I smiled at how easy he was about everything. I felt like we were looking at the world through two completely different sets of lenses at the moment and I didn’t want my crappy viewpoint to bring him down. “I do want to hang out. Just another time. Is that okay?” I asked as we started walking again. I just couldn’t bear the idea of having to tell him any more and him pitying me any more than he already did.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, his eyes and lips softening into a warm, sexy smile. “Anytime.”

We got back to his house and Brian stood on the porch as I picked up my bike to leave. “See ya,” I said, hoping he would pick up on the cue and go inside. I didn’t want to get on my bike and take off while he was watching. There was way too much that could go wrong. I could miss the pedal with my fake foot, I could struggle to get going and look like a loser while my front end wobbled back and forth, or I could totally spazz out and tip over. I’d done it before while I was getting used to my foot.

He stayed there on the porch, though, smiling and watching me, so I walked my bike down the paved path to the sidewalk. Then I threw my good foot over the bike and kicked off. It was the first time I’d done it since the accident, and I couldn’t believe it, but it worked. I didn’t freak out and drive into the bushes or crash onto the grass. I sailed out onto the street and pedaled away, leaving Brian on his porch behind me.

I felt bad about leaving so early, but on my way home I realized something had changed. It was a very small change inside me, but I knew it was there. I felt a little bit better. I was more confident on my bike and I felt a little more at ease in general, and I wondered if seeing Brian had something to do with that.

As I glided up to the bike rack at The Sunnyside Home, I realized my leg was hurting even more than it had earlier. I really needed to get my prosthetic leg adjusted, but that was another thing I didn’t want to deal with. What I really needed was a whole new leg, but I didn’t have the money for that at all.

I got off my bike and locked it up, then headed toward the back entrance. Jason, one of the security guards, was there at the door and he pushed it open for me as I approached.

“How’s it going, Nate?” he asked with a big grin. “Nice day for a bike ride.”

“Yeah, it was nice.” I was feeling so much better that I didn’t even mind talking to someone other than Brian, and I hadn’t felt that way in a long time. “I went down to the river with some friends today.”

“Oh yeah? That’s awesome! Where’d you go?”

“Collins Park. It’s out on Sophie’s Island.”

“Oh the nudie place? Yeah we’ve been meaning to check that place out. Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it was cool. I felt a little funny, though.”

“About what?” Jason asked.

I looked down at my right foot … the one that I knew wasn’t really there anymore. “My leg. I guess I didn’t want anyone to see it.”

“Oh, yeah, I can see how that would be hard. You never know, though. If they’re really your friends they won’t care.” He stood there for a moment like he wasn’t sure if he should say anything, but then continued. “I noticed you’re limping a lot more today than usual. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”

“Nah,” I said, feeling my face get a little hot. I didn’t really like that my limp was so noticeable. “It’s okay. Yeah I guess I’m not used to riding so far. The back of my leg really started to hurt on my way home.” I reached around and felt where the socket met my leg and rubbed it a little.

“You should go in and see one of the docs. They’d be more than happy to check it out for you.”

“Awww, I don’t know, they’re probably busy with other patients.”

“Why don’t we just go over there and see? It can’t hurt,” Jason said. “Come on, I’ll walk you over there.”

I didn’t move right away. I really didn’t feel like talking to one of the doctors about my leg. I hadn’t felt like talking about it for months. I knew I should have gone in to see someone after I’d had this one for six months. They were supposed to be adjusted regularly. But a part of me kept hoping if I pretended there was nothing wrong I would look down one day and realize it had all been a bad dream. That my leg was all still there.

But obviously that never happened. When I got better and could walk around on my own, there was so much to take care of that I just focused on the estate for a while. Then, after that was over and I had no money, I became incredibly depressed and let everything slide.

They told me I could see any of the doctors at the clinic when I moved into The Sunnyside Home, but I just couldn’t bear talking about my stupid leg with anyone. But after spending the day with Brian I actually felt like I might be able to do it. “Okay,” I said, giving Jason a shrug. “I guess I could go over there and check it out.”

“Great,” he said with a big smile. “I think they’ll really be able to help you. The doctors over there are some good friends of mine.”

We walked down the block together and in through the front entrance of The Sunnyside Clinic.

“Hey, Trent,” Jason said to the nurse behind the reception desk. “This is Nate. He lives over at the Sunnyside Home. Are there any openings where you could squeeze him in with one of the docs for a few?”

“It’s not urgent or anything,” I said quickly. “I mean, I can wait.”

“If you have something right now, that would be awesome,” Jason said, completely ignoring me.

“Let me see,” the nurse behind the reception desk said as he scanned the computer screen in front of him. “Yeah, actually Dr. Livingston has an opening in his schedule right now. Let me call him and see if he’s available.”

“Great. Thanks, Trent.”

Jason looked down at me. “You’ll thank me when you aren’t in pain anymore, Nate.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, scowling at the floor. “But it’s gonna take a lot more than one doctor’s visit for that.”

“You can have as many as you need. They told you that, didn’t they? You could come in once a week and they’d be happy to have you. These are really good people here. Dr. Livingston was the one who showed me around on my first day and he really put me at ease. And I was pretty much crapping my pants before I started the job.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“I’m an ex-con for one thing. But being around these people, it’s really helped me feel better about myself. I think they’ll be able to help you too.”

“Dr. Livingston is ready to see you, Nate,” Trent said as he handed Jason a folder. “Can you take him down there and give this to the doctor?”

“No problem.” Jason took the folder and headed toward a long hallway. “It’s this way,” he said, looking back at me.

“So you’ve been to prison?” I asked as we made our way down the hall.

“Yep. Not my proudest moment, but I’m learning to take my past less seriously. It’s all ancient history, after all.”

“But what if stuff in your past is really painful. How do you take that less seriously?” I asked, trying to wrap my mind around the concept.

“I don’t know. I’m no guru. All I know is that your life is now. It’s not what happened in the past and it’s not what might happen in the future. And you’re the only one who’s in control of how you feel. No one else. Other people can do crappy things or say mean stuff to you, but you’re the one who decides if you’re going to let it get you down. You’re the one that decides if you’re going to be happy or angry.”

“It doesn’t feel that way to me,” I said. “It feels really hard to be happy, and I don’t understand it ‘cause it never used to be that way.”

“Well, I know you’ve been through a lot, so it’s probably going to take a while. Talking to the doctors will really help. And if you can try to feel little bit better every day … about anything really … I think that helps. Just choose one thing and focus on it. One thing that you know is going well and that is easy to feel good about.”

“Like what?” I asked. I couldn’t think of a single thing.

“How about your bike ride? That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“So, just think about that as often as you can. Really feel it—the wind in your hair and the way it almost feels like flying. That’s a good place to start, anyway. Okay, here we are,” Jason said, knocking on the office door.

A voice inside told us to come in and we entered a room with a desk and some chairs and a couch. “Nate?” the doctor asked with his hand out to me. “I’m Dr. Livingston.”

“Hi,” I said, shaking his hand.

“This is for you.” Jason handed the folder to the doctor, then looked at me. “Hey, I’ll see you later, Nate.”

“Okay,” I said, giving him a smile. “Thanks for the advice. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

After Jason left, the doctor told me to sit down in one of the chairs, then looked through the folder. “So, you’re a resident at The Sunnyside Home, but you never came in for your first visit. How come?”

“I don’t know,” I said nervously. “I guess I’ve been a little busy.”

“Well, why don’t we do a full physical today, and during the exam we can address your immediate problems. How does that sound?”

I agreed to the exam and Dr. Livingston showed me into an adjoining room. I got into a gown but left my pants on, then hopped up on the exam table and waited for him to come back. When he did he checked me out—my blood pressure and temperature and ears and throat. All the basics. But then he brought out the orange triangle hammer thing and I knew he’d be looking at my legs.

“I’m just going to roll up your pant leg to test your reflexes,” the doctor said.

“I guess I should have told you. I have a prosthetic leg. The bottom half of my right leg is gone. I guess I’m supposed to be seeing a specialist.”

“Well, we do have an orthopedist on staff here. I can take care of the general exam, then set you up with an appointment with Dr. Soames. Do you mind removing your jeans so I can take a look?”

I unzipped them and took them off without getting down from the table, and Dr. Livingston sat down on a stool in front of me to examine my leg.

“Are you having trouble with your prosthesis?” he said as he gently removed the socket from where it attached to the liner. Then he removed my socks, rolled the liner down, and revealed my partial leg. It had been cut off just below my knee and in the florescent light I could see the red areas where the ill-fitting socket was irritating my leg.

“Yeah, it’s been hurting me a little off and on, but today it really hurt after I got off my bike.”

“Hmmm. It probably needs to be cut out in the back a little to make room for the way your leg bends, especially if you plan on riding your bike regularly.”

“Yeah, I’d like to. I used to bike around a lot before … well before everything happened.”

“Your accident, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“There’s not a lot to tell. It was a boating accident. My parents died and I lost my leg. That’s about it.”

“That must have been really hard, Nate. Have you talked to anyone since then?”

“You mean, like a psychiatrist?”

“Yes, or a therapist or counselor. Anyone who can help you process what happened. We have someone here you can see, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” I said, kicking the metal base of the exam table with my heels and looking at the floor. Ever since the accident talking to anyone in a white coat made me nervous. “I don’t know if that’s really my thing.”

“Oh, okay. So, your thing is, what, hiding in your room and avoiding everyone?”

“Is that in my chart?” I asked. “I don’t remember telling you any of that.”

“No, it’s not in your chart,” Dr. Livingston said as he leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. “But some of the people who work at The Sunnyside Home have mentioned you to me. They’re worried about you, Nate. We all want to help you.”

“But what if nothing will help?” I looked up and into the doctor’s eyes. I wanted to trust him and believe that there was something someone could do, but everything felt so hopeless. Even Brian, I couldn’t picture him actually wanting to be with someone like me. And he was the only one that made me feel even a little bit good about myself now.

“Well, you’ll never know unless you try. Why don’t you give it a shot? We have a really good therapist right here at the clinic. You could go in for one visit and see how it goes. And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to go back. How does that sound?”

“I guess that sounds okay.”

“And in the meantime, we’ll have you measured for a new socket and foot. Something that will be a lot more comfortable and allow you to be more active.”

“But I can’t afford a whole new leg,” I said with a frown. “New ones cost, like, ten grand.”

“I’ll see what we can come up with. We have some special grants and donations from private parties that you might qualify for.”

“Well, I’m not gonna be doing anything special like entering the Olympics, so I hope the qualifications are set pretty low.”

Dr. Livingston laughed and reattached my leg, then stood up. “Why don’t we wait and see what happens before you go planning your future accomplishments?”

“You mean what happens with therapy? You really think it’s gonna change my life that much?”

“You never know,” he said as he stood and helped me off the table. “Talking to someone about what’s going on inside you might be just the thing you need.”