6.
It was Monday afternoon and Nola couldn’t concentrate anymore. She had spent the last few days thinking about what Dr K. had told her. Walking without pain, running even, but with a foot that wouldn’t be her own. She left her lab not knowing where to go. Oliver had been a good friend, calling her several times, but she had refused his visits. Her foot was in constant pain, sometimes dull, sometimes as sharp as it was when she got shot. Driving was the only thing that caused no discomfort. So she drove around that evening, unsure of everything.
And she found herself parking in front of the church five minutes before the start of the session. She watched several people walk in, some on two legs, some with crutches, some in wheelchairs. She took a deep breath and followed them inside.
The Hood stood on the roof of a nearby building. He watched Nola enter the sanctuary and thought if she wouldn’t talk to him, at least she had someone else to talk to. He turned and jumped in the back alley. There was a thief on the loose, a gifted one as it seemed, and he wanted to put him away.
*****
Nine people were in a room in the basement of the church. Mostly men, looking like seasoned warriors. One of them walked up to Nola.
« I’m Pierre, Doc K. told me you might show up. I’m glad you’re here. »
« Thank you. »
« The first time is always the hardest. It takes courage to make that step. Literally and figuratively. »
Nola smiled. Pierre was like a kind giant, smelling of leather and grapefruit, and when she looked down, she saw his amputated legs. They all sat in a circle, Pierre obviously in charge.
« Hello everyone. »
There was an echo of hellos and Nola thought of all the movies she’s seen where such a scene had occurred.
« How is everyone doing today ? Josh ? »
Josh spoke in a low voice of phantom pain and his ex-wife. He smelled of green apples and despair. One by one, each participant talked about themselves, their feelings and experiences. Nola saw they were all missing a limb, either an arm, or a leg, sometime more than one. They all had prosthetics. They all smelled a little like misery.
After everyone had spoken, Pierre turned to Nola.
« We have a newcomer tonight. Everyone, this is Nola. »
She didn’t like being the center of attention like that, but after watching so much bravery, she couldn’t just run.
« Hello. »
« Do you want to tell us about yourself ? How did you get hurt ? »
« A few months back, I was kidnapped by someone who didn’t want me to testify at his trial. »
She saw signs of recognition and guessed she must have been on TV at the time.
« I was shot and my forefoot has been just about obliterated. »
She watched them return to the time they had been wounded, recognized the signs of pain and trauma.
« I haven’t been amputated, but my surgeon mentioned it for the first time last week. »
« And how do you feel about it ? »
Nola hesitated, and then admitted, more to herself than the others.
« I’m scared. It’s a decision I have to make, it’s not like waking up with a missing limb. »
And now she couldn’t stop talking.
« My foot is deformed, but it’s my foot. I know it, I feel it, I can sense cold and heat, caress and pain. And cutting it off... »
Tears formed in her eyes and started falling on her cheeks.
« How is it mine, if it's not there ? How can I feel myself without my foot ? »
The men on her sides grabbed her hands and held on tight while she started sobbing helplessly. It took her a minute, but she swallowed her tears and breathed normally again. A lot of the participants had cried too.
« I'm sorry. »
« Don't be. We've all been through this. Recognizing one's self once a limb has been removed is very hard. It takes time. Some never can, and they usually self-distruct or commit suicide. »
Nola put her cast forward and looked at it. A blond woman who smelled like vanilla looked at her missing arm.
« At least you have a chance to say goodbye. »
Again, there were sounds of approval.
« You still have a choice ? »
« Yes. On one hand, I can keep my foot, but I'll be in constant pain, I have to keep the crutches and I can hardly walk. On the other hand, if I chose amputation, I'll be able to walk and maybe run without pain, without canes or cast and have pretty much a normal life. »
« When do you have to decide ? »
« Whenever I want, but the sooner the better. »
When she came back to her apartment, Nola felt empty, like wrung. She made herself an instant Chinese soup, shared it with Shadoe. The men and women she had met tonight had shown so much resiliency and strength, she wasn't quite sure she could measure up. But if they had survived this, maybe she could too. After all, losing part of a foot was so little when she compared it to Pierre's loss of both his legs. He was walking almost normally, and with long pants, she would have never guessed he was an amputee.
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