BLAZE

By Ed Carlson

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This story is purely fictitious. The names used herein are for character

identification and should not be construed as real people, alive or dead.

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“Dave, Damn it, I need to get out of the house for a while,” Barb said as she placed her thick glasses that corrected her severe myopia on the coffee table. “All this hiding and waiting is driving me crazy. Why in hell did you have to get mixed up in a damn drug smuggling operation anyway?”

“Wasn’t it you who liked all this stuff we can afford now?” Dave replied.

“I could have waited,” she answered as she rubbed her reddened eyes. “We could have accumulated all of this over time.”

“Sure, when we were old and gray,” he said. “Without insurance, how do you think we could have paid for your operation and the chemotherapy?”

“I’m sure that we would have figured out something,” she replied as she squinted to see him. “Besides, I’m the one who came out on the short end of the stick on that deal. Or should I say, short one leg.”

“Come on, it saved your life, didn’t it?” he said with a wry smile that she couldn’t see. “Besides, you really get off when I rub that scar just right on that little stump of a leg that’s just barely sticking out of those white shorts. Kind of like this.”

“Dave, not now. I’m not in the mood!” she said sharply. “Just pass me my crutches.”

“And if I don’t?” Dave asked.

“I’ll do like I usually do when you take away my crutches. I’ll hop damn it,” she snapped at him, very unhappy with his controlling attitude.

“I like to see your little stump bobbing around when you hop,” he replied snidely. “Go ahead.”

“Ya, the same way you get off on other amputees too,” she snapped as she felt around the coffee table for her glasses. But before she could find them, Dave snatched them away too.

“Are these what you’re looking for?” Dave asked, holding up her thick glasses.

“OK, give them back,” she said calmly as she squinted looking for them. “I need them to see better.”

“Better?” he retorted. “You just plain need them to see period.”

“I can see,” Barb said defensively.

“Sure you can see,” he replied, mocking her. “As long as you can touch it. You know damn well you can’t focus more than a few feet away. Remember when we were in the shop looking at new frames and I had you stand on the line and look at the chart. You took your glasses off and said, ‘What chart?’ Hell, you had to get within five feet of it to even recognize it was a chart and within a foot of it to read the top line.”

“Are you going to give me my glasses or not?” she said impatiently.

“I’m thinking about it,” Dave replied.

Barb got up off the couch by putting most of her weight on one of the arms of the couch. She gave a couple of hops over in the direction where Dave, her glasses, and her crutches were. He quickly gathered them up and slid them behind the couch in such a manner that she would need to get by him to get them. She stood there on her one good leg and glared at him, then turned and hopped toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. She held her ample and unrestrained breasts with her hands to keep them from bouncing too much or falling out of her halter top. She squinted to see as she hopped down the long hallway until she came to their bedroom. She hopped through the door, closing and locking it behind her.

Barb hopped over to the nightstand and got out a pair of her spare glasses she kept around for just such times. She was relieved to be able to see a little bit again as her vision went from a blur, where she was unable even to make out shapes, to a fuzzy vision but able to make out shapes. She really wanted the glasses that Dave held captive, but she was not going to give in to his games.

She began hopping again and was exhausted by the time she reached the chair near the corner where her assortment of prosthetic legs were standing. Before she sat down, she removed her shorts and let them fall down around her ankle. She sat down, and now with just her panties on below her waist, she kicked off the shorts. Barb chose the leg that had been designed for wearing boots. She removed the cowboy boot from the prosthesis and slid the leg into the tight blue jeans that she used for riding over the boot top, then slid the boot back onto the prosthesis.

“Open the door and let me in,” Dave demanded as he pounded on the bedroom door.

“Go to hell,” Barb replied. “You wouldn’t give me my crutches or my glasses, so I’m not letting you in.”

“Aw come on; let’s not fight,” he pleaded.

“We’re not fighting,” she replied as she sprinkled talcum powder on her leg. “I’m busy putting on my leg.”

“OK, be that way,” he said.

She couldn’t hear him any longer and assumed that he had given up. She pulled her tight nylon stump sock on over her little stump of a leg. When she had pulled the sock almost up to her hip, she retrieved her prosthetic leg and removed the air valve. She began feeding the sock down though the top of the leg and pulling it out the air valve hole. When it was part way though, she stood up and began putting the stump of her leg in the socket of her prosthetic leg. She continued to pull the stump sock out through the air vent hole until she had it completely removed. She threw the stump sock on the chair and then shifted her weight onto the leg to be sure it was fully seated before she replaced and tightened the air valve. She fastened the strap around her waist, sat back down, and slid the top of the other boot through the other leg of her tight fitting blue jeans. She pulled the boot on her good foot and began pulling her blue jeans up. She stood up and finished the job as she struggled to get them up around her butt. She put on a belt and fastened her Leatherman tool on it before she walked across the room toward the bedroom door. As usual, her frozen ankle and hip rotation gait gave her away as an above-the-knee amputee. No matter how hard she practiced, she couldn’t hide the fact that one leg had been amputated—and high enough to make it difficult to use a prosthesis well. She opened the door and screamed when she saw still Dave standing there.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Barb admonished.

“I thought you might need these,” Dave said as he held out her crutches toward her.

“You’re too late buddy,” she snidely remarked as she took the crutches from him.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Dave said as Barb turned and walked with her stiff ankle gait to her side of the king size bed with the crutches.

“I’m going riding,” she said as she leaned the crutches in the corner where they always stood at the ready for use at the many times when she was not wearing one of her prosthetic legs.

“What are you going to do, meet your lover? You know it’s not safe out there,” Dave said forcefully as Barb started for the sliding glass door. “They’re likely to be out there. I don’t want you to get shot.”

“So let them shoot me,” Barb snapped back. “It’s better than being cooped up here with you forever. Besides, I don’t have a lover.”

“What about John what’s his name?” he countered.

“John Arbors is just a friend,” Barb stated. “He’s lonely because he lost his wife in the car wreck last year. We’re not lovers.”

“I’ll bet you’ve been out screwing him,” Dave said. “You sure as hell haven’t been screwing me.”

“You keep that up and you’ll never get any,” she countered. “Just let me get out of here.”

“At least take a gun,” he said.

“No, that stuff is for you and the boys,” she said. “I’ll take my chances with Blaze for my protection. He’s my friend.”

“How is a horse going to protect you?” he asked.

“He’s gotten me out of tight scrapes before,” Barb said as she opened the door onto the patio. “He’ll take care of me again.”

“Well, wear these glasses then,” Dave called.

“I don’t need them,” she retorted. “These are just fine.”

“That’s a bunch of bull, and you know it,” he replied. “You’re lucky if you can see ten feet in front of you with those old glasses. They have to be at least five years old. Your eyes have gotten a lot worse lately. These are at least twice as thick as the ones you are wearing”

She knew he was right about her eyes getting worse as she started walking across the patio. She had to squint hard even to find the path that led to the stable. But she would be damned if she was going to go back and give him the pleasure of being right. As she walked down the little path, she could hear the knee of her prosthetic leg squeaking and giving a strange pop as it snapped to the extended position. The noise had just started recently, and she thought about taking the leg in for repairs.

She opened the sliding door to the stable and squinted as she peered nervously into the darkness before she stepped inside. She squinted cautiously from side to side as she made her way down the center aisle to Blaze’s stall. As usual, he was waiting for his treat and Barb didn’t disappoint him. She reached over and retrieved his bridle from the peg, then without argument from him, she slipped the bridle on him. Using the reins on the bridle, she led Blaze down the stable aisle to the tack room and tied him to the ring. The saddle and blanket were in their places in the tack room. She put the blanket on Blaze’s back followed by the saddle. She reached under him and found the cinch and, after flipping the stirrup over the saddle, tightened down the cinch. The scabbard was on the wall with the rifle still in it. She considered taking it for a minute, then discarded the thought. She knew she couldn’t see well enough to hit anything more than a few feet away.

She put the stirrup in its original position and led Blaze to the platform Dave had built for her to be able to mount without assistance. She walked up the three steps one at a time, leading with her good leg and bringing her prosthetic leg up to match the good one. Blaze knew the drill well and waited patiently while Barb got into the saddle and lifted her prosthetic leg into position in the stirrup. The small leather thong, attached just above the stirrup, held her prosthetic leg in position as Barb tied it.

Dave walked up to her in the corral. He was carrying her glasses that corrected her severe myopic condition. He didn’t say anything as he handed them up to her.

She took them from him without a word. She removed her old glasses and put on the ones that provided much more correction. She handed him the old glasses now that her world was in focus again. She smiled at Dave, then wheeled her horse around and slowly rode Blaze over to the corral gate. Blaze stopped in just the right spot for Barb to easily reach the loop that made the latch for the gate. She lifted the loop and pushed the gate open, then steered Blaze out of the corral. He liked to run so she gave him his head as they started around the little lake under the trees. It felt good to feel the saddle under her. To Barb it felt like she and Blaze were as one again—much as it had been before her cancerous sarcoma was discovered in her leg.

Once about halfway around the lake, she reined Blaze in. Even with her glasses on, she squinted as hard as she could in all directions, looking for the would-be attackers. He walked slowly along the path. She steered him toward the lake when they got to the place where the cattle normally drink. She gave Blaze all the reins he needed to have a good drink. As he drank, she thought back to the way it had been. Before she would have dismounted, led him along the path, then easily remounted at any point. Now if she was to dismount, she would have to find just the right large rock to climb up on and manually swing the chunk of metal and fiberglass that she now calls a leg into position. She thought about how she hated wearing the prosthesis and about the disastrous time she tried riding without it. She remembered almost making it out of the corral before she fell off. Poor Blaze had just stood there looking at her wondering what was so different about his best friend.

When Blaze had finished drinking, they made their way to the ridge. From that vantage point, most people could see for miles. She stopped him and squinted as hard as she could to try and scan the landscape. Her vision had begun to deteriorate during her bout with the cancer and the treatments she had undergone. She could make out the usual afternoon thunderheads that were beginning to build on the jagged mountains like they did most summer afternoons. They were a long way away and wouldn’t reach here today, but they were the kind of clouds that could sometimes cause the dry washes to run full without warning.

She was looking at what she thought were cattle grazing when she thought she saw a cloud of dust off in the distance. She listened to the sound it was making. She squinted as hard as she could at the vehicle that was causing it. She couldn’t tell, but she didn’t think it was a pickup like most of the local ranchers drove. As she squinted at it, the vehicle pulled into their driveway and started the two-mile drive toward the house. Her heart sank when she thought of who it could be, the drug lord’s thugs, coming for Dave. She had to try and warn him, but there was no way to get there before they did.

Instinctively, she wheeled Blaze around and headed back to the house at a full gallop. They were just starting down the steep hill out behind the house when she heard a single shot, then a lot of gunfire—machine gun fire. She thought she could see one of the persons by the SUV. He spotted her and raised his rifle. She heard a bullet slam into the rock directly above her. She was wheeling Blaze around when a second shot rang out and the bullet slammed into the rock behind them. Barb urged Blaze on in the direction from which they came. She looked back and thought she saw another person get into the SUV. Now was her chance to get back to Dave.

Her reprieve was short-lived. The SUV started in her direction. She knew in her heart that they had killed Dave and now they were after her. They started back around the lake.

Blaze was at a full gallop when she looked back. She didn’t see the low overhanging branch they were riding toward. She was turning forward again just as the leafy branch caught her alongside of the face. The force of the brush knocked her glasses off as it scratched her face. She briefly felt for her glasses around the saddle horn and then urged Blaze on as best she could.

Blaze must have understood their predicament because he ran like he had never run before. And with her glasses gone, Barb had only a vague idea where they were going. Blaze took her to the other side of the lake, on across a great deal of open ground, and down in a dry wash before the SUV overtook them. Another gun blast rang out and then another. Blaze crumpled to the ground and landed on his side—the side that had her prosthesis tied to the stirrup. Blaze didn’t move a muscle as he lay there, trapping her leg. She just knew that he had died instantly.

Barb heard one more shot and suddenly felt dizzy as she felt blood running down her face as she lay there. She struggled briefly to get free before unconsciousness overcame her . . .

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It was hours later when she awoke. At first, Barb had no idea what time it was or, for that matter, where she was. She struggled to free herself but couldn’t get out from under the dead horse. She called for help, but her call went unanswered. As her memory returned, she lay back and thought through her situation. It wasn’t long before she realized that her first task was to free herself.

Barb took out the Leatherman tool that was on her belt. She opened the blade and began cutting the leg of her blue jeans that contained her prosthetic leg. She managed to cut the pant leg completely off, then unbuttoned her jeans. With the waist strap of her prosthesis exposed, she was able to unfasten it. She wiggled around, but her small leg stump was still firmly held by the suction of the liner. She cut away more pant leg until she had access to the air valve. Once she opened the valve, her stump slid easily out of the prosthetic leg.

She struggled to get up on her only foot. Her little stump didn’t even expose itself in the cutoff pant leg. As she looked down at Blaze lying there, it hit her that her best friend in the world had given his life trying to save her. She couldn’t hold back the tears as she sank to her knee and hugged him one last time.

Barb struggled back up and hopped in a little circle trying to figure out where she was. In her desperate attempt to escape, she hadn’t been paying close attention to where they were running—even before her glasses were knocked off. They had been concentrating on trying to get away from the thugs, and Blaze had been leading the retreat. As she squinted at the surroundings, nothing looked familiar. The wash went in two directions and the steep sides were in the other two directions. She hopped over to the steep side of the wash. With clouds in the mountains like that, she knew that the wash was no place to be, but the sides were too steep at this point to get out. She began hopping back down the wash, backtracking on the hoof prints that Blaze had made. Before she rounded the bend, she squinted hard as she looked longingly back at Blaze lying there all alone.

She suddenly felt several large drops of rain. This urged her on even more. She knew that a flash flood could occur without warning. She finally came to a place where she thought she could get out of the wash. The canyon walls were not as steep, and there were clumps of sagebrush along the hillside at this point. She managed to pull and hop her way up the steep side until she was on top and out of the wash.

The landscape there was almost flat. She squinted hard again to try and see better, but she couldn’t make out any landmarks. The clouds had thickened and covered the entire sky, and now blocked the sun. She hopped in a little circle trying to decide what to do.

She looked over the bank of the dry wash and wished she could see Blaze’s hoof prints in the bottom of the wash, but she couldn’t. She began hopping along the top of the wash, backtracking along the way they came. About five minutes of hopping was all that she could endure at one time considering that she needed her hands to support her more than ample breasts.

For the third rest period, she rested longer, still planning her strategy for getting back home. As she sat there, resting her one good leg, she wondered what kind of horror she would find. Even though things had not been as good as before she lost her leg, there was a time when she truly loved Dave.

She struggled back onto her only foot and continued hopping along the rim of the dry wash. The hoof prints reappeared when she got to the point where they had entered the wash. Although the harder ground away from the wash made the trail harder to follow, it was still obvious enough for her to backtrack along the route once taken by her horse trying to save her life—her friend who had made the ultimate sacrifice.

As Barb hopped slowly alongside the hoof prints, her fuzzy view of the surroundings began to look somewhat familiar. It took a long time, but finally she was on the ridge overlooking the little lake, and when she squinted really hard, she thought she could make out the house in the distance. Exhausted, she sat there on the ridge. She closed her eyes and tried to remember better days for she knew what was in store for her when she got back to the house was not going to be the least bit pleasant.

After this longer rest period, Barb struggled back to her foot and began hopping down the hill. As she hopped, her speed increased and she was quickly out of control. The toe of her boot caught on a branch of sagebrush, and she began tumbling down the steep hillside. After what seemed like an eternity of uncontrolled falling and rolling down the hill, she came to an abrupt stop. As she started to get back up, her blood ran cold when she heard the unmistakable whirring sound of a rattlesnake. She froze in a three-point stance, with her knee and both hands on the ground. Barb’s little stump just dangled completely motionless there as only her eyes moved trying to find the snake. She found it about three feet away from her—coiled and ready to strike should she make the wrong move. God, how she hated snakes.

It seemed like it took an eternity for the snake to quit rattling as Barb stayed frozen in her three-point stance. Eventually, the snake relaxed and moved away from her, but she stayed motionless for a while longer. She struggled onto her foot and carefully hopped down the hill taking a route opposite from the one the snake had taken. She rested on a large rock beside the little lake.

She got back to her foot again and continued hopping around the lake toward the house. She had to rest four more times before she made it to the corral. Her leg felt like rubber as she hopped slowly around the outside of the barn and onto the bedroom patio. She wanted to sit on the steps but decided not to. Barb opened the patio door slowly. She unconsciously squinted as she looked around the room. Her crutches were still in the corner where she had left them. With what seemed like her last ounce of energy, she hopped over to them. It wasn’t until she had the crutches tucked under her arms that she realized how much her knee hurt and her head was throbbing.

She crutched over to the dresser where her spare glasses resided. She opened the drawer and retrieved a pair. They were not as strong as the ones that had been knocked off by the tree branch, but they would do in an emergency. At least it felt good to see a little better.

Barb crutched slowly down the hallway toward the living room. The house was torn up and riddled with bullet holes everywhere. She stopped when she saw Dave’s motionless leg sticking out beside the couch.

She turned and crutched back to her bedroom. She picked up the phone. It was dead. She dropped the receiver and crutched back out onto the bedroom patio. She crutched around the side of the house to where their car was parked. She opened the door and held up her stump as she slid in. The cell phone was under the seat where they usually kept it. When she turned on the power, it beeped at her, and when it was ready, she dialed nine-one-one. She was about to press ‘send’ when someone grabbed her from behind. Her thick glasses were ripped off of her face, and she was in her very fuzzy world again. She struggled to no avail, not able to release her attacker’s iron grip. In the process, she dropped the cell phone.

“Now what do we do with her?” she heard a voice from behind her say.

“I don’t know,” a deep voice said. “I thought you killed her.”

“So did I. I saw blood coming out of her head.”

Barb struggled to try and see her attacker, but he was in the back seat and held her in such a way so that she could not turn her head, no matter how hard she struggled.

“Why don’t you turn her loose, I’ll take her crutches, and we’ll have target practice when she hops around?” the deep voice said.

“Naw, that wouldn’t be very sporting. I don’t think she can hop that fast.”

“OK. Let’s blindfold her and tie her up while I call the boss,” the deep voice said.

“I don’t think we need the blindfold. Look how thick her glasses are. I bet she’s almost blind without these.”

“You’re right, I can’t see very well,” Barb pleaded. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“That’s a good girl. We can’t take any chances that you might see us and be able to testify,” the voice from behind her said as he released his grip. “Get a towel out of the house and get some rope from the stable.”

“OK. But how come I never get to hold the pretty girls?” the deep voice said as it faded away.

“What are you going to do to me?” Barb sobbed.

“I’m not sure what the boss will have in store for you,” the voice from behind her said. “The boss has this thing for amputees. The boss might take a liking to you or maybe just let us kill you. After we’ve had our fun, if you know what I mean.”

“Why in the hell would your boss want someone who’s practically blind and has only one leg? I’m sure your boss could get all kinds of good-looking girls,” Barb reasoned. “Why don’t you just let me go and tell him that you killed me, like you thought you did?”

“We were only supposed to kill your husband,” the voice said. “We thought that you would have been gone longer. You shouldn’t have come back. If you had stayed away ten minutes longer, we wouldn’t be doing this.”

“OK. Just let me go then. I won’t tell,” Barb begged.

“Who were you calling before?” the voice from behind me snapped back. “I don’t think you were ordering pizza.”

“I was calling the police, but I won’t anymore,” she pleaded. “Take my glasses and the cell phone, then just leave me out here. You’ve already cut the phone line. I won’t be able to see, and I won’t be able to call anyone. Just don’t hurt me, please.”

“When we were chasing you on horseback, we didn’t know you were an amputee,” the voice said. “Like I told you, the boss has this thing for amputees.”

“What’ll your boss do to me?” she sobbed.

“I don’t know,” the voice said. “The boss is partial to arm amputees. Usually double arm amputees.”

“What do you mean?” Barbs questioned.

“The boss may have your arms cut off too,” the voice said. “One gal gave us so much shit after her arms were cut off that the boss had her legs cut off too.”

“That’s brutal,” Barb said.

“That sure took the fire out of that bitch though,” the voice said. “Without any arms or legs, all she can do is squirm around on the floor and drag herself with her chin. You flip her over on her back and she can’t do shit.”

“I don’t believe that,” Barb said.

“Now the boss keeps Jeana around for the boys to use whenever they want,” the voice said. “Isn’t that right?”

“What’s that?” the deep voice said.

“I was telling her about Jeana.”

“Ya, it’s fun to do Jeana,” the deep voice said. “Without any arms or legs, she just has to lie there and take it. She was a real ball of fire when she got there. She scratched the hell out of the boss. The boss got mad and had both her arms amputated just below the elbows. The next time the boss tried her, she tried to hit him with her stumps and kick. The boss just had the rest of her arms cut off right at the shoulder and both of her legs cut off at the hips. If you stand her up on her cunt, she falls over—usually on her big boobs, which come to think of it, are about your size. “

A blindfold was placed over Barb’s eyes. The grip from behind was relaxed, and she was pulled out of the car. She hopped several short hops trying to get her balance. A rope was put around both of her arms above the elbows and pulled behind her back.

“Ouch! That hurts,” Barb exclaimed. “Do you have to tie me that tight?”

Her right hand was tied to her left forearm, and then her left hand was tied to her right forearm. Both ropes were fastened tightly despite Barb’s protests.

“I brought some duct tape too,” the deep voice said.

“Good,” the other voice said. “Duct tape her hands to her elbows.”

Barb could feel several wraps of duct tape being placed very tightly around each arm—securely holding her hands in place. Once they were done, she couldn’t even wiggle her fingers no matter how hard she tried.

“Put some tape over her mouth too,” the first voice said.

“Oh No!” Barb pleaded. “I have a cold. I can’t breathe through my nose. I’ll be quiet.”

“Well?” the deep voice asked.

“OK. Leave it off then.”

“Please just leave me,” Barb pleaded. “I’ll never tell anyone. I don’t want to become a quad. This is bad enough.”

“And just what are you going to do?” the first voice said. “There’s no way in hell you can untie yourself. You’re blindfolded, and if you do manage to get the blindfold off, you say you can’t see worth shit. And if you fall while you’re hopping around, I doubt if you could ever get back up again without help. Killing you is one thing, but leaving you alone to die of starvation and dehydration is another. That would be torture. We’ll take you with us.”

“I suppose cutting my arms off wouldn’t be considered torture,” Barb countered.

“Anything else out of you and you get the duct tape across the mouth too,” the first voice said firmly.

Barb had the feeling that they had left her alone. She hopped in little circles trying to keep her balance on her one very tired leg. She heard a vehicle start, and her spirits were lifted as she hoped they would just leave her. Her hopes were short-lived when the vehicle pulled up right beside her.

“Let me guide you to the back seat,” the first voice said.

A firm grip held Barb by the upper arm as she hopped to keep her balance as she was pulled. A hand was on her head and pushing down. She felt a seat with her leg. Hands were on both of her arms as she was guided down onto the seat. A hand pushed her onto the seat and made her lie down. She felt seatbelts being tightened around her and holding her down. All was quiet for a minute; then she felt a blanket being put over her. It was quiet again, and then she heard what sounded like her crutches being put on the floor. Doors slammed shut, and the engine started.

“Did you get her glasses?” the deep voice said.

“Ya. I have them in my shirt pocket,” the first voice said. “At least the boss lets the girls see.”

“Do you two think your boss might like to see me with my prosthetic leg?” Barb asked, stalling for time.

“The boss just might,” the deep voice said. “Go in and get her leg. I’ll stay with her.”

“Would you please get my stump sock that’s lying on the bed and my contacts that are in the master bathroom?” Barb asked.

She heard the door open and shut again. The motor was still running.

“It’ll be OK lady,” the deep voice said. “I think the boss will like you just the way you are.”

“God, I hope so,” Barb sobbed. “I’m scared to death that he may want my arms amputated too.”

“Well, you never can predict what the boss will do,” the deep voice said. “I won’t untie you, but I’ll loosen the ropes when we get over international waters.”

“Ouch. My foot is cramping,” Barb said. “Could you pull my boot off please?”

“I suppose that would be all right,” the deep voice said.

Barb heard the car’s front door open and then the door away from her head open. She felt the blanket moving around on her leg and someone touching her boot. She braced herself as he began to pull her boot off. He quickly had her boot off.

“Sock too?” he asked.

“Yes. That would be great,” she replied.

He removed her sock and put the blanket back over her now bare foot. She heard the car door close. She wiggled her toes and flexed her very tired ankle. She heard the front door close and him rustling around the front seat.

“Thank you for taking off my boot,” Barb said. “What did you mean before when you said over international waters?”

“The boss ain’t in this country,” the deep voice said. “The plane is waiting for us. We had planned on only two of us going back. Now there will be three.”

He had just finished his sentence when a loud shot rang out followed by a loud scream.

“What the hell?” the deep voice said as he shut off the engine. “You stay put.”

Barb heard the car door open and slam shut. She wiggled around the best she could with her arms so securely tied behind her and her body restrained by the seatbelts. She managed to kick the blanket off and loosen her blindfold. She heard another shot, followed by a scream. Then silence. She wiggled around and managed to get the blindfold off. She squinted to try to see the door handle. She found it with her foot and, using her toes, managed to get the door unlatched. She wiggled, scooted, and finally managed to slide out the door free of the seat belts. She thought she could make out her crutches lying on the floor of the back seat and wished with all her heart that she could use them.

She struggled to a sitting position on the seat. The gravel on the driveway hurt her bare foot as she put weight on it. Her arms were bound so tightly that they hurt too. She tried again even to wiggle her fingers but couldn’t.

Barb inched forward on the seat and partially leaning on the car doorframe, managed to get herself to an upright position. It was difficult maintaining her balance without the use of her arms to help with over corrections.

The pain was terrific as she began to hop across the gravel driveway. When she finally made it to the lawn that surrounded the house, the grass felt good under her only foot. Tired and unexpectedly dizzy, she wanted to sink down in the grass, but worried that she wouldn’t be able to get up again by herself without the use of her arms.

Barb continued to hop across the lawn toward the house and around to the bedroom patio. Her head was still aching, and by the time she got to the open patio door, her leg was exhausted again. She hopped up to the opening and squinted hard to try and see the inside. She could see very little but went in anyway. She hopped around the bed and toward the bedroom door. When she started down the hall, she could see the two men lying just past the place she had gone when she had finally made it back to the house. She struggled to hop a little closer. One of the men had been holding her prosthetic leg. Dave’s body was still in the same position. She vaguely knew better than to hop any closer. Dave had been an expert in setting booby traps—the same kind of trap that had gotten her two assailants.

Barb turned and began to slowly hop back to the bedroom. Exhausted and with her head hurting badly, she weakly hopped her way over to the bed. She lay down on the bed and squirmed until she got as comfortable as she could. Her leg ached from a whole day’s hopping, but her securely tied arms hurt even worse—much worse. The longer she lay there, the more the pain in her arms intensified. She closed her eyes. Even though she struggled to stay conscious, it was not to be . . .

-----------------------------------

Barb’s eyes started to flutter as she stirred to awaken. She blinked several times as she tried to focus her myopic eyes. Even though she could see very little, she knew she was not at home.

“Good. You’re awake,” a strange voice said.

She turned her head toward the voice and squinted in an attempt to see clearly, or even make out the source.

“Who are you?” she asked. “I can’t see much without my glasses.”

The figure moved close to her and said: “Is that better? I’m Doctor Morton.”

The man was tall with a small mustache and graying hair. He was dressed in a white coat and had a stethoscope around his neck.

“Where am I?” Barb asked groggily. “How did I get here?”

“You were brought here by ambulance,” he said. “You were in pretty bad shape when they brought you in. The concussion from that bullet that grazed your head knocked you out pretty good, and you were dangerously dehydrated. One of your neighbors on the county road had noticed that a telephone line by the road had been cut. The telephone company repairman found you when he went to find out why you had never called the company about your lost phone service.”

“How long have I been here?” she asked.

“You’ve been here since early morning,” he replied. “That bullet had cracked your skull and caused some bleeding inside your head that rendered you unconscious. This morning, we made some small openings in your cranium and sucked and washed out the blood and clots that were pressing against your brain. That’s fixed the problem with your head, and you and I can talk to each other now.”

“How long was I unconscious?”

“They estimated that it was three days before they found you.”

“Now I remember a little,” she said as she fought to stay awake. “Dave’s dead, isn’t he?”

“I’m afraid so,” the doctor said softly. “As well as the other two men.”

“Those were the guys who shot Dave and tied me up when I tried to call the police,” she said. “They tied me so tight that I couldn’t free myself. I think that’s why my arms still hurt.”

“That’s the other bad news I have for you,” he said firmly but compassionately. “Because the circulation was cut off for so long in your arms, we have some very serious problems. I don’t believe we have any choice other than to take them.”

“What do you mean? Take them,” she asked.

“We will have to amputate both of your arms just above the elbow,” Doctor Morton said. “The lack of circulation killed the muscle and tissue. Gangrene has set in.”

“No, this can’t be happening!” Barb screamed.

She kicked the sheet back with her only leg and exposed her arms covered with towels. The smell was not good—like that of meat starting to rot. As she raised both of her arms, the towels fell off and she was able to look at her arms when she brought them close to her face. She let out a blood-curdling scream and shouted, “OH NO! This can’t be happening to me! Can’t you save my arms! I won’t be able to live like that! Don’t cut off my arms too! Oh No!”

“Try to calm down,” Doctor Morton said in a quieting voice. “It will be all right.”

“All right hell!” Barb screamed at the top of her lungs. “I’d rather be dead than go around like that! Why in the hell didn’t you just let me die, rather than wanting to carve me up like some sideshow freak?”

“You won’t be a freak,” Doctor Morton said, trying to calm her.

“Bullshit!” she screamed at him. “I can see it now. ‘Come see the wonder woman! Only One Leg and No Arms. Right on the inside folks. All she can do is hop on her one leg and slither on the floor like a snake.”

“Knock It Off!” Doctor Morton almost yelled. “You’re making a stupid fool of yourself!”

“I’m sorry,” Barb said as she started to cry. “Ever since I lost my leg, I’ve had nightmares about something like this happening.”

“I know this is a traumatic shock and a difficult thing for you to face right now,” Doctor Morton said. “We should be able to get you fitted with prosthetic arms before too long. In the meantime, I’ve ordered special nursing to help you cope. OK?”

“OK,” Barb said softly, holding back her tears. “I guess if you have to.”

“Good,” he replied. “I’ve chosen a nurse who you’ll like, and she will be a lot of help to you.”

“Sure, some pretty young thing with all of her limbs still intact,” Barb countered.

“Just wait,” Doctor Morton said. “I want you to get more rest now. I’m going to give you something to prepare you for surgery. We’ll do it tonight.”

He gave Barb a shot in her upper leg, but she didn’t feel any differently. Doctor Morton left the room and Barb to herself. Alone for the first time since the bad news, Barb allowed herself the good cry she needed.

“Why me? Why me?” she kept repeating as she drifted off to sleep.

It was night when Barb awoke the second time. She squinted hard as she looked around the room trying to remember where she was. “I wonder what happened to my glasses?” she thought to herself. She lay back and raised both arms to get a better look at them. They were dark and discolored, and the smell almost made her sick to her stomach. It was a painful experience for her, both physically and emotionally. She was having a hard time contemplating becoming a double above-the-elbow arm amputee as well as a single above-the-knee—very high above-the-knee—amputee.

A nurse with a sheaf of papers came into the room. She smiled and said, “I need to have you sign these consent forms.”

“I’m not too terribly excited about doing this,” Barb said.

“It’s the only way to save your life,” the nurse replied. “The longer you put it off, the worse it will be and the more they will have to amputate. If the gangrene reaches your lymph system, it may be all over.”

“I feel like it is over already,” Barb said. “I don’t know how I’m going to get along with no arms and only one leg.”

“I’m sure that the folks in rehab will be able to help you get accustomed to your new self and show you some neat tricks for doing things differently,” she said. “Now if you’ll sign here, we can get going.”

The nurse put the papers on the tray table and handed Barb a pen. Barb’s hand couldn’t even hold the pen. She tried again, but the pen fell from her hand again. The nurse had to hold Barb’s hand closed to grip the pen as Barb made an X by moving her arm with her shoulder muscles. The nurse signed as a witness. Barb started to cry.

“It’s going to be all right,” the nurse said very compassionately. “Doctor Morton is the best surgeon we have.”

“I’m just so scared,” Barb sobbed. “First, I lose my leg two years ago. Then my husband is killed. They tried to kill me but killed my horse instead and left me for dead. They found me when I came back to the house and tied me so tight that now I’m losing my arms too. What else can go wrong?”

“I want you to relax before surgery,” the nurse said. “I’m going to give you a shot that will put you in never-never land.”

“I guess I’m about as ready as I’m going to be,” Barb said. “Just do it.”

The nurse gave Barb the shot in her upper thigh of her only leg. Barb closed her eyes and lay back. She didn’t even notice the nurse leaving the room . . .

“Are you ready?” Doctor Morton’s voice said.

“I suppose so,” Barb said sleepily. “Let’s get it over with.”

“The orderly is here to take you to the O.R.,” he said. “I’ll head down now and get scrubbed up. I’ll see you again in recovery.”

“OK,” Barb said . . .

----------------------------------

The light was dim and subdued when Barb started to open her eyes. She tried to focus but couldn’t. All she could see were shapes in white moving about.

“Barb. It’s Doctor Morton. Wake up now.”

“Doctor Morton. Where are you? I can’t see you,” Barb said.

“We’re going to have to get you some glasses,” he said. “I’m right here.”

He moved closer and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him and tried to smile.

“The surgery went well. There were no complications,” he said. “We were able to give you the most stump length possible and still allow the elbows of prosthetic arms to work properly for you. You’re going to be fine.”

“I want to see my stumps,” Barb said without emotion.

“Not yet,” he said. “You just lie there for a while and let the anesthesia wear off. I’ll be in your room in a little while. You can see them then.”

“OK,” she said. “I’m thirsty. Can I have a drink of water?”

“No,” Doctor Morton replied. “A full glass will make you sick to your stomach. The nurse will give you a wet towel to moisten your lips. Suck just a little. I’ll see you up in your room soon.”

The nurse brought her the wet towel. The towel moistened her lips but didn’t solve her thirst problem. When she finished with the towel, she tried to lay still. The elbow area of both of her arms began to ache. Soon they took her back to her room. It took three of them to help her get back into her own hospital bed. She was left alone for a while.

The door of the room opened noisily. Barb looked in the direction of the noise but couldn’t make out who was there. She heard something running and saw a shape getting closer. It was a figure sitting in a wheelchair.

“Are you awake?” the girl in the wheelchair asked.

“Yes. I’m awake,” Barb replied sleepily. “I’m just trying to shake off the anesthesia.”

“It will take a while on purpose. It’s meant to keep you relaxed so you don’t get too rambunctious just yet,” she replied. “Lean this way. I have a present for you.”

Barb did as she was instructed. She saw glasses on a hook prosthesis—her glasses. The girl held her hook out with Barb’s glasses in such a way that Barb could slide them on.

“Is that better?” the girl in the wheelchair asked.

“It’s wonderful to be able to see clearly again,” Barb said as she smiled at the girl in the wheelchair. “Where did you find my glasses?”

The girl smiled back. She was a pretty young thing. She was wearing a white nurse’s uniform. The skirt of the uniform lay pretty much flat on the seat of the motorized wheelchair and quickly told Barb that both of the nurse’s legs were missing—or no longer than Barb’s missing leg. Both of the nurse’s arms terminated in hook prostheses. Because Barb could see the mechanical elbows, she knew that the nurse’s arm stumps ended somewhere above her elbows—like hers.

“The guy from the telephone company, John Arbors, I think his name is, brought them by and asked about you.”

“How did he know I was here?” Barb quizzed.

“I think he’s the one who found you after he saw that the cut phone line went to your place and he wondered why you hadn’t reported it,” the nurse said. “He probably saved your life.”

“I guess I owe him my life,” Barb said. “Are you the special nurse that Doctor Morton told me about?”

“I don’t know how special I am,” the nurse replied. “Doctor Morton saw to it that I was assigned to you. My name is Cindy.”

“I bet you’re the one,” Barb said smiling. “I’d shake your hands but mine just left.”

“Mine have been gone for a long time,” Cindy said as she held both split hooks up into view. “These are my hands now.”

“When did you lose your arms and legs?” Barb asked.

“I was hit by a car when I was on my bike when I was six,” Cindy said. “The accident got my legs right away. As a complication of those amputations, I developed blood problems. The circulation problems almost cost me my kidneys and liver, but got my arms instead. They had to amputate both—right at the shoulder.”

“You mean you don’t have any arm stubs at all?” Barb asked in amazement.

“That’s right,” Cindy replied. “My shoulders are motorized.”

“How do you make them work?” Barb quizzed.

“Well, working at the hospital has a lot of advantages. They use me for a guinea pig a lot when it comes to prosthetics and new ideas,” Cindy said. “This set has a combination of switches that activate when I tug in a certain way, sensors that sense certain muscle movements, and the cables that control the hooks. Unfortunately, because each new set is different, I have to learn to use them all over again when I get a new one.”

“Because you don’t have any stumps, don’t you have problems putting your prosthesis on?” Barb asked.

“I can’t do it,” Cindy said bluntly. “Hell, I have a slight disability. I know I can’t do everything. That’s one of the things that Joanne, my caregiver, does.”

“Slight disability understates your condition a lot,” Barb responded. “Explain caregiver.”

“Joanne is a person who lives with me,” Cindy said. “I give her free room and board. She helps me with things I can’t do, like taking a bath or putting on my arms. She also helps me dress and get in this wheelchair in the morning. She’s also great company.”

“Now that Dave is dead, I suppose that I’ll need one too,” Barb said.

“That’s up to you,” Cindy said. “With your arm stumps, you should be able to get your prosthetic arms on by yourself, and once you have them on, you should be able to put on your leg. Then what you do is entirely up to you.”

“Great speech,” Barb said snidely.

“Sure, you can lie there and feel sorry for yourself or get up and do something,” Cindy challenged. “Life is what you and God make it. You need to deal with the reality of the situation. When you lost your leg, it took time to adapt to your new self. You could have sat around and felt sorry for yourself or made the best of the situation. Probably for you, it was your love of riding and your horses. The same thing applies now, the only difference is now you have arms that are a little shorter to deal with as well as a leg that’s short too.”

“My God, with all that’s happened, I’ve forgotten all about Blaze,” Barb said.

“Who’s Blaze?” Cindy asked.

“Blaze is . . . was my horse,” Barb said as her eyes started to tear up. “The thugs killed him when they were trying to get me. He’s just lying out there somewhere. I just can’t let him lie there for the buzzards to eat. I need to have someone bury him.”

“Doctor Morton told me the sheriff’s office wanted to talk to you. Maybe they can help,” Cindy said. “Why don’t I go see if they’re still around?”

“Would you please,” Barb said. “I just can’t let him lie out there in the dry wash.”

Cindy backed up her electric wheelchair. Barb got a good look at just how short her leg stumps were. She noticed for the first time that a strap that resembled a seatbelt kept Cindy from falling forward out of her wheelchair. Cindy turned and started for the door; she stuck out a hook and pulled the door open, then scooted through. The door closed behind her. Barb was left alone with her thoughts. She lifted her arms and looked at her stumps. A slight bit of crimson was on the tip of each bandage. She lay back and closed her eyes. The events of the past several days flooded her brain.

A knock on the door to the hospital room startled Barb. She opened her eyes and turned her head toward the door. A man in a sheriff’s office uniform was standing at the door, holding his Canadian Mounty style hat in front of him.

“Mrs. James, may I come in?” he asked politely.

“Please do,” Barb replied. “Cindy went looking for you.”

“Yes. She found me,” he replied politely. “I’m Deputy Addison. I’d like to ask you some questions if you feel up to it. I can come back if you don’t.”

“I’m a little tired, but I’ll be OK,” Barb said. “Deputy Addison, I have a favor to ask before we get started.”

“Certainly, can I get you anything?” he replied.

“No, I’m fine,” Barb interrupted. “The thugs shot my horse Blaze. I would like to be sure that he’s properly buried. The thought of buzzards picking him over turns my stomach.”

“That was done shortly after you were brought to the hospital,” he said. “Your neighbor, Mrs. Callahand, had heard about the incident and was out riding hoping to find Blaze alive and came upon his body. She called us, and we had animal control take care of his remains. They buried him above the dry wash near where he died. They put a marker on the grave.”

“Oh good,” she replied. “I was so worried about him just lying out there. Thank you so much.”

“We put the saddle and bridle in the tack room and your artificial leg in the bedroom with the others,” he said. “We secured the house after we removed the bodies and the other booby traps.”

“Did they hurt anyone else?” Barb asked.

“No. Luckily we went in the other door,” the deputy said. “Your husband had also put timing circuits on the traps, and they were no longer armed.”

“I’m sure that Dave thought the booby traps were going to get the thugs before they got him,” Barb said. “It looks like they didn’t work.”

“Your husband was shot with the high-powered rifle that was in the SUV,” he said. “They shot him from outside the house. There was only one bullet hole through the window near where he had been standing. The coroner said that he was dead before he hit the ground.”

“I’m glad he didn’t suffer,” Barb said as a tear came to her eye. “I went back in the house after I had hopped back. I only went down the hall far enough to see Dave’s leg. I figured that he had set the booby traps. I was surprised that the thugs hadn’t set them off when they went into the house to check if they had killed him. Maybe the traps weren’t armed yet.”

“That could be,” the deputy replied. “Did you say hopped back?”

“Yes. I had to,” Barb replied. “When Blaze was shot, he landed on my artificial leg. There was no way that I could get it out from under him, and the fall had probably made it unusable anyway. So I resorted to hopping after I woke up after being stunned by the bullet that grazed my head. Unfortunately, in our haste to get away from the house, I rode under a low hanging branch. The twigs on the tree knocked my glasses off. I can’t see very much without them, and I had a hell of a time trying to find the house.”

“How did you do it?” He asked.

“I followed the edge of the dry wash until I came to the point where we had gone into the wash. From there, I followed the tracks back to the barn,” Barb said. “I hopped into the house through the patio door in our bedroom. I got some crutches and my spare glasses. That’s when I went down the hall and saw Dave. The phone was dead so I went out to the car to use the cell phone to call your office. That’s when the thugs grabbed me.”

“Then what happened?” the deputy questioned.

“They grabbed me from behind and held me in such a way that I couldn’t see them. They took my glasses and then blindfolded me. They tied my arms tight enough to cut off the circulation,” she said as she held up her stumps. “Tight enough to cause this. They were talking about taking me someplace to meet the boss. Ironically enough, they said that the boss would probably have my arms amputated. That thought scared the hell out of me, and still does, so I stalled for time. I asked one of them to go back into the house to get one of my legs and contacts. I was hoping that he would get snooping around and set off one of the booby traps. It worked, and it got him. The other one left me tied in the back seat and went in to check on his buddy. That’s when the other one got it. I managed to get out of the seat and get my blindfold off. I hopped back into the house and saw them. I was beginning to lose consciousness from the bleeding inside my head caused by the bullet that had knocked me out earlier. It didn’t help either that my leg was like rubber from all the hopping, and my arms really hurt where they tied me up. That’s when I lay down on the bed. I tried to untie the ropes, but I couldn’t. The next thing I knew, I was here at the hospital.”

“Well Mrs. James, the story you told me is pretty close to the way we put the crime scene together,” the deputy said. “Why were they chasing you?”

“Dave knew they were coming to get us. It was just a matter of time,” Barb replied. “I needed to get out of the house so I went riding. I was up on the ridge when I saw their car start down our driveway. I went back to warn Dave. One of them saw me and started shooting. That’s when Blaze and I tried to get away.”

“Why were they after you two in the first place?” he asked.

“Let’s say that Dave had bit of a credit dispute with a business associate,” Barb replied. “Negotiations had failed, and retribution was being sought.”

“Sounds like a pretty serious dispute,” he remarked.

“I’m just glad that it’s over,” Barb remarked.

“Thank you for the information. What you’ve told me is pretty much what we’d concluded. It appears to me that you were a victim, and we won’t be filing any charges against you,” he said. “I must be going now. If you need anything, please let me know. Here’s my card.”

He held out the card for me to take.

“Just leave it on the tray table,” I said as I exposed my arm stumps from under the covers. “I’m having a little problem picking things up.”

“The nurse told me that you had lost your arms,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Barb replied.

The deputy left, and Barb lay back and closed her eyes again. As she lay there, she realized how much her arm stumps ached.

----------------------------------

It was late in the afternoon. When she awoke, she had a difficult time remembering where she was. It only took a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in again when she reached for the glass of water sitting on her tray table. Her bandaged stump was a grim reminder of the decision she had made in order to save her life—a life that would continue on without her lower arms and most of a leg.

Doctor Morton came into the room in time to see her trying to maneuver the straw that was in the glass into her mouth by using her tongue. He watched as she took a drink.

“Life is going to be challenging for you, isn’t it?” he said.

“I didn’t see you there,” she said. “You startled me.”

“I was watching you take a drink,” he said. “I’m truly sorry that we had to remove your arms. Have you had a chance to meet Cindy?”

“Yes,” Barb replied. “She’s a delightful young lady. I don’t know how she keeps her spirits up, being so handicapped and all. She told me that she doesn’t have any arm stubs at all.”

“That’s true,” he stated. “She’s pretty helpless without the prosthetic arms. She does quite well with them and the wheelchair that was designed especially for her.”

“I’m hoping that I won’t be confined to a wheelchair,” Barb said. “If I have prosthetic arms, I should be able to put my leg on, shouldn’t I?”

“I think so,” he replied. “We can also devise some crutches for you that should work well with prosthetic arms.”

“That would be neat if you could,” Barb said. “Those legs work OK, but they’re so hot and heavy. I really prefer crutches.”

“That’s understandable. We’ll see what we can work out for you,” Doctor Morton said. “By the way, a fellow has been calling and asking about you. I believe his name is John something.”

“John Arbors probably,” Barb replied. “He’s a friend of mine who lost his wife last year. He works for the phone company. Cindy said he found me.”

“Yes,” Doctor Morton replied. “I remember him now. His wife held on for a couple of hours. She was so messed up inside that there wasn’t anything we could do for her. I think he took it pretty hard.”

“He did,” she confided. “He belongs to my riding club. We’ve had several long talks about how lonely he is. I guess I’ll probably be lonely too now that Dave is dead.”

“It sounds like you two may be good for each other if the chemistry is there,” Doctor Morton observed.

“It just might be. Dave and I were having our problems, and I’ve given it some thought,” Barb said. “I would like to see John when I can have visitors.”

“Let’s wait until tomorrow. I’ll have Cindy put him on the ‘OK to visit anytime’ list,” he said. “I’m going to finish my rounds. I’ll have Cindy come in and get you tucked in for the night. Tomorrow morning we’ll change your bandages and get you up.”

“That’ll be great,” Barb said. “Just don’t try and make me walk too far.”

“We won’t,” he said with a wink and a smile as he turned to leave. “Cindy will be in to see you in a little while.”

Barb relaxed after the doctor left, and contemplated life with her newly altered body. Life had been difficult enough with the loss of her leg, but the loss of both arms above the elbow would be trying, to say the least. Still, Barb was strong and knew that she would survive. She closed her eyes.

Cindy came in and helped Barb get ready for the night. She deftly changed the IV bottle that was tethered to Barb. Cindy also emptied the urine bag that was attached to a catheter in Barb. Barb marveled at Cindy’s dexterity with her hooks. When Cindy was finished, she sat with Barb a long time. Cindy took the opportunity to describe life as a quad amputee to Barb. Barb was full of questions for her. Before Cindy left for the night, Barb had Cindy remove Barb’s glasses and put them on the nightstand. As Cindy left, Barb squinted hard in her direction but in the dim light had a great deal of difficulty making out any shapes. Sleep came easy for Barb . . .

---------------------------------

In the morning, Barb was awakened by the head floor nurse moving some of her tubing. Barb squinted to see her.

“Good morning,” the nurse said in such a cheery voice that it almost made Barb sick. “And how did you sleep?”

“I slept fine,” Barb replied. “Could you get my glasses for me please? They’re on the nightstand.”

The nurse did as Barb asked. Barb’s world was in focus again.

“The doctor wants us to remove your IV and get rid of the catheter today,” she said. “He’ll be in to change your bandages later. But just as soon as I get you unplugged here, we’re going to get you sitting, and hopefully standing up, this morning.”

With that, the nurse went to work removing the IV, monitoring cables, and the catheter.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” the nurse asked when Barb was free of all her tethers.

“Yes, that’s a lot better,” Barb replied. “I don’t like the feeling of someone else touching my private parts though.”

“I know. I wouldn’t like it either,” the nurse replied sensitively. “Until you can be fit with prosthetics though, we really don’t have much choice. Do you have a prosthetic leg here?”

“I don’t think so,” Barb replied. “I was unconscious when they brought me here.”

“Do you have a leg at home?” she asked.

“Yes, several,” Barb replied. “I have quite an assortment. But they won’t do much good there.”

“I was thinking that if you had one here with a flat foot on it, it would make getting around easier for you,” the nurse said.

“I’ll try to get one brought over,” Barb said. “My leg stump is so short though that I still have a pretty bad limp no matter how much I practice.”

“We don’t care about a little limp around here,” she said. “I’m just thinking of a way of making you a little more mobile.”

She quickly finished her work and raised the head of Barb’s hospital bed to a comfortable sitting position. When she was finished, she left Barb to her thoughts and the morning talk shows on TV.

An orderly brought a breakfast tray for Barb. It smelled wonderful, and she realized just how hungry she was. She leaned forward and tried to take the cover off using her remaining heavily bandaged arm stumps. She managed to get the cover off the food but dropped it, and it went banging to the floor. Barb felt terribly embarrassed as she tried to take a piece of toast off the tray by putting her face down in the plate. She was beginning to cry out of frustration when she heard the door open.

“Frustrating as hell, isn’t it?” Cindy said as she wheeled close to the tray table. “Here, let me help you.”

“Oh, thank you,” Barb said. “I was about ready to scream.”

“I’ve done that a lot,” Cindy said as she dexterously picked up the fork with her hook and fed Barb a bite. “Especially before I got my arms.”

“I bet it was terrible for you,” Barb said between bites.

“It was and still is,” Cindy replied as Barb chewed the food. “I’m completely helpless when I lie on my back without my arms on. When that happens, all I can do is wave my little leg stumps in the air and move my head back and fourth. At least when I’m on my stomach, I can drag myself around a little with my chin and propel myself a little with my leg stumps—although it’s pretty uncomfortable dragging my squashed boobs beneath me. And even with my arms on, I still have a hell of a time because the motors for my shoulders aren’t strong enough to lift me. If this belt below my boobs were to come undone, and I topple over front-word, my legs are too short to get me up, and I’d probably be stuck until someone could rescue me.”

“I think I’ll be able to at least move around better than that,” Barb observed while she waited for another bite.

“Heavens yes,” Cindy replied. “You should be able to propel yourself around almost as good as before. Now you just won’t be able to grab much without hooks.”

“Speaking of hooks, are there other designs that are better than others, or is there just one kind, and you take it or leave it?” Barb asked.

“There are a lot of different designs,” Cindy replied as she gave Barb another bite. “You can get hands that have fingers that open and close if you want. If you want the split hook, there are designs for almost every purpose. I think I have six sets of hook terminals at home. I use most of them interchangeably. When Richard starts to build your arms, he’ll talk to you about them and suggest some of the ones he thinks will work the best for your lifestyle.”

“I can hardly wait,” Barb said. “I don’t like sitting here not being able to do anything.”

“You’ve been through this before,” Cindy said. “You know he can’t start building the sockets until the swelling is down.”

“Yes, I know,” Barb said dejectedly. “It seems like it takes forever to get the swelling down to the point where he can build the casts.”

Cindy finished feeding Barb and used her electric arms to put the dishes on the wheelchair seat in front of her abbreviated lap. She backed up her wheelchair and turned it before she took the dishes to the tray cart out in the corridor. Barb still marveled at the way Cindy dexterously handled her hooks and the electric wheelchair. She looked down at her leg and foot, her only remaining complete limb, and was thankful for what she still had.

“Are you ready to get up?” Doctor Morton said as he walked into the room followed by a very young looking doctor.

“I suppose so,” Barb said. “I’m actually looking forward to it.”

“Good,” Doctor Morton replied. “This is Doctor Felton. He’s doing his residency here and will be with me now and then, if that’s OK.”

“It’s fine with me,” Barb replied. “I don’t mind being looked at by good-looking guys.”

Young Doctor Felton blushed at her remark. His ruddy complexion began to turn a bright shade of crimson.

“Like I explained to you out in the hall,” Doctor Morton said to Doctor Felton, “we were forced to do the bilateral above-the-elbow amputations due to circulation complications caused by the trauma to her lower arms. Her attackers had denied blood to her lower arms long enough to allow gangrene to begin to consume her tissue. We couldn’t save any tissue below her elbow and were therefore forced to shorten the humerus bilaterally.”

“Why did you need to reduce the humerus? Couldn’t you have just obtained enough skin to create an adequate flap?” Doctor Felton asked.

“Yes, we had a fairly adequate site for gathering a skin covering, and with that, an elbow disarticulation amputation could have been possible,” Doctor Morton continued. “However, when she had prosthetics constructed, the natural humerus terminations would have interfered with the prosthetic elbow and made an upper prosthetic arm that was considerably longer than her natural upper arm. But frankly, we also had a better guarantee of successfully constructing the skin flap and a successful amputation by staying away from the gangrenous material.”

“Barb, we’re going to have you stand for a minute of two,” Doctor Morton said.

Barb didn’t say anything. She kicked the covers off of her good leg. With a doctor on each side of her, she was assisted to a sitting position with her foot dangling over the edge of the bed. They paused for a minute or two, then helped her slide forward until her foot was on the floor. Without assistance, she managed to stand vertically on her one leg. With a doctor on each side of her, she hopped to the end of the bed and then back to the center of the bed. She leaned against the side, and the doctors helped her back into bed. Barb was exhausted.

“I want to change your bandages if you’re up to it,” Doctor Morton said.

“Sure. Go ahead,” Barb replied. “You wore me out just standing. I’ll just lie here.”

Doctor Morton began to remove the bandages on her arm stumps. When he had them both unwrapped, he used a hand mirror to show Barb what the scars looked like.

“You did a good job,” Barb said. “The scar on my leg stump looked a lot worse than those do. How soon can I be fitted for new arms?”

“Let’s not rush it,” Doctor Morton replied as he rebandaged her arm stubs. “You still have a lot of swelling, and I don’t have to tell you how sensitive and easily aggravated the scars can be. I’d say two months at the least.”

“Two months,” Barb exclaimed. “Do you realize how helpless I am?”

“I know you’re helpless,” he replied. “Isn’t Cindy doing a good job?”

“Cindy’s wonderful,” Barb said. “I just want to be able to do things for myself.”

“Tell you what,” Doctor Morton said. “If you rest for a week, I’ll arrange to have someone from rehab teach you how to do things with your toes. That will also give you some skills for the times when you aren’t wearing your prosthetic arms. Is that a deal?”

“Deal,” Barb replied. “I’ll rest.”

“Good. Just let everyone wait on you for a while. Lie back and enjoy it,” he said.

“I can lie back, but I can’t say I enjoy not having any arms,” Barb said.

“OK,” Doctor Morton said. “I have to make my rounds now. I’ll see you later today.”

Both doctors left the room. Barb was alone one more time with her thoughts. As she lay there, she thought about how she didn’t want to go back to the ranch. There were too many painful memories there. She thought about Dave and what to do with him. He had said one time that he just wanted to be cremated and his ashes scattered over the water in the lake by the house. He had said that he didn’t even want a memorial service. She would need to talk to the local funeral parlor.

Barb also thought about the substantial amount of money that they had put away in the numbered offshore accounts. Dave had told her how to get the money out of the bank, but she really hadn’t been paying attention. She lay there and worried about getting the money. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. She was about to drift off to sleep when she remembered that Dave had written out the instructions and left them in the safe at home. She lay back and closed her eyes again . . .

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When she opened her eyes, Barb saw flowers on her tray table. She sat up a little more to see John Arbors sitting in the chair at the end of the bed.

“Hi,” he said with a smile.

“Hi John,” she replied. “Are these from you?”

“I thought you might need a little cheering up,” he said as he got up and walked by the head of the bed.

“Thank you John. They’re beautiful,” Barb said as she smiled up at him. “I’m the one who should be sending you flowers. They told me you saved my life.”

“I only wish that I could have found you soon enough to save your arms,” John commented.

“I wish you had too,” Barb replied. “What’s done is done though. Now I’ll just have to learn to live with it. At least I’m still alive. Thank you.”

“The sheriff gave me the key to your place. I’ve been going by and checking on it every day,” he said as he held the key up. “Where do you want me to put it?”

“Would you keep it please?” Barb said. “You’re the only person around that I would trust with it. If you keep checking on the place, I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“Don’t worry about that. It’s the least I can do for one of my only friends,” he said.

“I’m glad we’re friends. I think we’re going to need each other now,” Barb said.

“You don’t know what it meant to me to have you to talk with after my wife was killed,” he said. “I want to help you out anyway that I can. I’ll come by every day to visit if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much,” Barb said. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Go ahead. Ask away,” he quickly countered.

“I’d like you to bring one of my legs in here so that I can get around better,” she asked.

“Sure. Which one?” he said. “I saw several in the bedroom.”

“The one with the flat foot and painted toenails,” she said.

“OK,” he said. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” she said. “You’ll find a stump sock in the top drawer of the dresser by the legs. It’s a heavy nylon stocking about a foot and a half long. Bring that too.”

“Is there anything else?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Please be careful. Come back safely. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and I’ve just realized how much I need you.”

He bent down and gently kissed her on the forehead. He turned and walked out of the room. Tears began to flow down Barb’s cheeks.

Cindy rode her chair into the room and said: “What did you do to him? He was crying when he left.”

“Cindy, why now? Why now, when I’m less than half a woman, do I realize I’ve known the man I really love for a long time?” Barb sobbed. “What am I going to do?”

“First, start by pulling yourself together,” Cindy said. “That guy likes you a lot. He’s been here every day and called about twice a day checking on your condition.”

“Really? I didn’t know,” Barb replied.

“Why don’t you relax and let nature take its course?” Cindy said. “Do you need anything before I go home?”

“No, I’m fine,” Barb replied. “Just take off my glasses, and I’ll get a good night’s sleep.”

Cindy carefully used one of her hooks to remove Barb’s thick glasses and put them on the nightstand. She said goodnight and motored out of the room. Barb lay back and squinted at her bandaged arm stumps before she drifted off to sleep . . .

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When Barb woke up, it was dark and she had the need to use the bathroom. She kicked the covers off and swung her leg around to the edge of bed. She squinted as she looked for the bathroom door across the room. It seemed like a mile away. She squinted at the nightstand and thought she saw her glasses there. She gave a hop in that direction and lost her balance. As she fell, she instinctively stuck out what was left of her arms to catch herself. The pain was excruciating when she landed on the stumps of her newly amputated arms. She screamed in pain as she lay writhing on the floor. It was the worse pain that she had ever felt in her life.

A nurse came running in, followed by an orderly. Barb continued to scream in pain as they got her back in bed and to a bedpan. Doctor Felton came in and ordered a high dose of pain medication. Soon Barb was back asleep.

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Cindy was there first thing in the morning. She had already heard about Barb’s fall. Another nurse came in to help Barb stand and hop the short distance to the bathroom. Barb felt extremely self-conscious when the nurse had to wipe her. With the nurse closely watching, Barb was able to get up off the toilet by herself and hop back to her bed.

Doctor Morton came in and examined Barb’s arms and pronounced them healing nicely despite the accident. He told her that he had spoken with rehab and that she would be starting toe dexterity exercises next week. In the meantime, he had Barb lying in bed moving her toes and trying to work on muscle control to move just one toe at a time. The day went slowly, and daytime TV left a lot to be desired.

In the early evening, John came in. He was carrying the artificial leg that Barb had asked for.

“John, thank you so much for bringing me the leg,” she said. “How are things at the ranch?”

“There’s an eerie silence there now,” he said. “You know what I mean. The place is completely deserted. There’s no Blaze to come up to be petted. The house has a stony silence. It just feels weird.”

“I’ve been thinking. I don’t know if I want to move back out there. Like you said, the place would feel weird and there are a lot of painful memories there,” Barb said. “Could you do me a favor? I need help getting to the bathroom.”

“Sure,” he said.

Barb sat up and swung her leg around and slid it to the floor. She straightened up and started to fall again. John caught her and scooped her up in his arms. She put what was left of her arms around his neck. The moment was just too good to pass up. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment before the kiss—a long, wonderfully passionate kiss—a kiss that they both needed desperately.

When the kiss was complete, John carried Barb to the bathroom and gently put her down.

He guided her as she situated herself on the toilet, then left the bathroom and Barb to her privacy. When she finished, she said, “Are you up to wiping me, or do you want to call a nurse?”

“Which would you prefer?” he asked.

“You,” Barb said softly.

John performed the function and carried her back to the bed again. As he was putting her down, a second protracted kiss happened.

When the kiss was completed, John asked, “If you don’t move back out to the ranch, where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” Barb replied. “Wherever I go, I’ll need assistance for some simple things. I should be more independent once I get some prosthetic arms. But even at that, I’m going to need help for the times when I don’t have them on.”

John said: “You know my house is lonely now that my wife is gone. Would you consider living with me? There’s plenty of room for the both of us, and I can help you when you need it.”

Barb looked up at him and smiled. “That’s an offer that I don’t have to think twice about. Can we seal the bargain with another kiss?”

E N D