Page 72 of Playing for Keeps (Checkmate 4)

19

Andi

Four Weeks Later

“Today’s the day, Mr. Cruz.” Riley’s prosthetist walks into his office in the least cool way possible; with a fake leg propped over his shoulder as though it was an umbrella, and a tie with a pattern of legs wearing crazy colored socks.

Personally, I can find the humor in the situation.

But Riley… not so much.

Linc drops down onto his roller chair while Riley scowls and squeezes my hand until my fingertips lose circulation. Moving forward with a geeky grin, Linc-The-Technician thrusts the leg forward and leers at Riley’s remaining leg like he wants to hump it.

Prosthetist humor, I guess.

“How do you feel today, Mr. Cruz? You’re ready? You’re set?”

“I wanna go home.”

“Well that’s no fun.” He playfully scrunches his nose and sets the new leg down. “This, my friend, is your new best friend. You can name it if you want; a lot of my clients do.”

Riley practically growls. “No thanks.”

It’s almost like Linc knows Riley now, like he knows how to deal with him… or send him to drink. So just like me, he chuckles and brushes away Riley’s shitty mood and forges on. “This is not a permanent leg; as you can see, it’s a transparent socket that you will learn with. You’ll be re-casted and re-fit many times over the next year as your leg shrinks.” Finally, he turns serious when Riley pales. “Your legwillshrink; muscular atrophy is real, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Add in the fact your leg is technically still swollen, though the incision is completely healed.” Without asking, he lifts Riley’s residual leg and inspects the scar. It’s still pink, but not open. “There’s a lot of fluid in there that will shift over time, so for the next many years, we’ll be seeing each other a lot.”

As ordered, we brought Riley’s spare shoe – a black and white sneaker that matches the one on his right foot. When Linc notices it in a bag beside my leg, he grins and snatches it up. “Your foot arrived last Wednesday, and your leg on Friday. We decided on the Dynamic-Response, which will hopefully help you keep up with your old lifestyle.” Almost like he’s speaking on rote, Linc takes out a shoehorn and attaches the rubbery foot to the steel foot of the prosthetic. “This foot is specifically designed to provide a symmetrical feel to your steps, and is made for the younger, more agile crowd who move fast. For fast turning, pivoting, walking.” He jams the foot on and looks up triumphantly. “Remind me in a few months to discuss a Microprocessor-controlled foot. It’s a newishtechnology that has small computer type sensors in the foot and ankles. These sensors process information from your limbandthe environment around you; that is, are you walking on dirt? Concrete? Sand? It takes this information and adjusts to meet your various needs to make your stride feel as natural as possible. I think you’d make an amazing candidate to give this technology a try.” He takes Riley’s spare shoe and pushes it onto the rubber foot.

I’m riveted to Lincoln’s every word. I want to know every single thing about Riley’s set-up so I can help him at every possible turn, but Riley’s still on the negative-Nancy train about this. He barely meets Linc’s eyes. He’s yet to really even look at the leg.

He doesn’t like this unknown world, and his hand squeezing mine says he’s not coping.

When Linc gets the shoe on and the laces tied, he sets the leg down with a genuine grin and nods. “Let’s discuss each step, shall we?” From a box similar to a shoebox, he pulls out a rubber type sock. “This is your gel liner. It will be tight – it’s the first step of our suction set-up.” When Riley offers no enthusiasm, I give a small nod to spur Linc on. Taking that as the only permission he’ll receive, he lifts Riley’s leg a second time and sets the gel liner at the very base. Inside out and rolled up, he uses his strength to unroll it over Riley’s calf and up over his knee. The liner stretches right up to the middle of his thigh. It’s tight, to the point Linc’s arms bulge and his breath speeds as he works it up Riley’s leg. “The bottom of the liner bears a pin, which is what will slide into the bottom of the socket. Next, we’ll slide socks on.” He reaches back into the box and pulls out an extra long pair. “These are just cotton; the size of your leg will fluctuate during the day – all day, every day – so you might start with one or two pairs in the morning, but you could end up with more by the evening as your leg loses mass and your prosthetic becomes a little loose. This is normal.” He looks to me for approval. “This will be a daily occurrence, so work with the socks until you find the right fit. Eventually, there just won’t be a fit, which is when it’s time to come back and re-cast. This will happen a few times in the next twelve months. Any questions so far?”

Riley watches our joined hands and shakes his head.

Linc nods. “Alright. I’d like to start with two pairs, then we’ll get the leg on. Are you ready for this?”

Riley clears his throat, but still, he says nothing.

When Linc is satisfied with the socks, when he’s happy there are no wrinkles and everything seems to be in place, he brings the prosthetic closer and slides his stool in until Riley’s leg is basically nestled between his.

Riley’s shaking hand in mine turns positively quaking, but he doesn’t pull away, he doesn’t banish me and tell me he doesn’t want me here. He doesn’t even kick Linc in the face. So I consider it a win and let him squeeze as hard as he needs to.

I watch as Riley’s leg slides into the clear socket. As the pin lines up at the bottom. As the suction takes hold, then as Linc stands and pushes his hands onto Riley’s knee to push him in as far as he’ll go. I grit my teeth at the sight of his weight on Riley’s leg, though I know it doesn’t hurt. I’ve done the same to Tim in Mia’s clinic, but it’s different now.

Tim was a kind man, I cared that he was well and happy, but his success on a new leg meant just a fraction of what Riley’s does. I don’t want this to go to shit. I don’t want Riley to fall or feel like he’s failed.

When Linc is satisfied with the fit, he sits back with wary eyes and glances between me and Riley. “Ah… how does that feel?”

“Tight.” Riley leans a little to his right until our shoulders touch. “It feels really tight.”

“Tight enough you think you want to remove a layer of sock?”

“No. Tight like I can feel the suction. It’s snug, I guess. But in a good way.”

Linc smiles, satisfied Riley is participating. “It’s good?”

“Yeah…” Clearing his throat, Riley sits taller and peeks at his leg. He tilts it just a little to the left. Then the right. “Like, I was worried it would feel like it was going to fall off.”

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