Stacy and Lori
By Ed Carlson
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This story is purely fictitious. The names and places are used only to illustrate
the story and should not be construed as fact, or persons, alive or dead.
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The morning sun was streaming through the window of my bedroom when the alarm clock began to do its little dance. I normally reach reflexively for it and try to silence it with great haste. This morning was different. I rolled over to my side and watched as the little clock spun around in a tight little circle making tracks in the dust on the nightstand as it went. I really didn’t want to get up, and I especially didn’t want to go to work on such a gorgeous day. The thought ran through my mind to call in sick, but that would be lying. They could get by without me for just one day. There are plenty of paralegals at Drake and Sweeney, and Barry Nuzzo wasn’t going to miss me that much. I decided that I wouldn’t even call. I could miss a day without pay. That way I wouldn’t have to lie and still have a sick day for when I really needed it.
The little alarm clock finally began to slow and then stop, completely exhausted. I was glad that I wasn’t an alarm clock. I couldn’t imagine starting each day with full head of steam. I am never completely awake until my second cup of black coffee—the real stuff only please, none of that unleaded kind.
I kicked the covers back and slowly stood up. Standing in the morning sunshine felt so good, especially on my nude body. Sleeping in the nude between satin sheets is a luxury that I truly enjoy. I looked over at myself in the full-length mirror on the wall of my bedroom. ‘You are a fine-looking chick,’ I thought to myself. ‘You have a nice even tan. You have a nice figure. Your long legs and thin ankles accentuate your firm calf muscles. Your pubic hair is trimmed, but not shaved, in such a way as to point the way to pleasures that await. Your butt is tight and hasn’t sagged yet. You have a wonderfully thin waist. Your breasts are full and firm, with nice cleavage and separation—no sag in those babies. Your arms are slender, as are your long fingers, which terminate in perfectly manicured nails. Your lips are full and a pleasure to kiss. Your nose is just about perfect. It turns up just a bit at the end. Your eyes are a beautiful shade of blue/gray with a few flecks of green. Your long, flowing, well-kept hair complements the rest of your gorgeous body. Yes gal, you are hot and you know it,’ I think as I run my long fingers sensually over my body, stopping in the especially sensitive areas. I love to touch myself.
I sat back down on the bed, then lay back on those satin sheets with my feet still on the floor. The warm sunlight felt so good on my most private part of my body that I spread my legs a little more to get the full warming effect. My thoughts went to the bank on Grand Cayman Island—the bank that contained the numbered account that I’d been systematically transferring the funds into. I knew it was money that the firm had been laundering for the drug lord. He wouldn’t miss the five percent that I managed to systematically slide into the account. It was fun writing the computer program to automatically do the transfer. Hell, it was illegal money; who was going to prosecute me for borrowing it anyway? I smiled as I closed my eyes.
It was an hour later when I opened my eyes again. My fate had been sealed earlier when I decided not to go to work. Now it was too late. ‘Seize the moment,’ I thought. ‘You’ve made your decision; now live it to it’s fullest. Now what to do for the day? The nude beach is always exhilarating and mutually exciting. There are some real hunks that hang out there.’ The nude beach it was.
I got up and headed for the bathroom. Morning chores, makeup, and primping were in order. A low v-necked tee shirt made a nice top. A bra wasn’t necessary. They’ll stay up by themselves. The cutoff blue jeans did the trick. My white high heels looked really sharp with this outfit. I also threw my sandals in my bag.
A muffin and my two cups of black coffee were close enough to a well-rounded breakfast. I grabbed one of the power bars for instant energy later. I picked up my bag and headed for the elevator. I stuck my sunglasses in my hair above my forehead. They’ll go on my nose when I get in the bright sunlight.
I pushed the button for the elevator. The elevator finally made it to my floor, and the door creaked open. Even though I hate elevators, I got in. I pushed the button for the basement garage. The door creaked closed, and the elevator continued up. ‘Oh swell,’ I thought. ‘I get to share this little confinement with some creep.’ The elevator bumped to a stop, and the door slowly opened. A good-looking hunk smiled at me when he walked into my confinement. He pushed the lobby button, and the elevator car started its descent. Neither of us said anything. The rule is that you don’t talk in elevators. Etiquette and political correctness demand that you stand there, not say a word, and look only at the lighted panel above the door. An entire Ph.D. thesis could be written on group dynamics while riding in an elevator. We reached the lobby, and the hunk got out without a word. The door closed as I watched his nice looking buns heading across the lobby. The one floor drop was quick, and the door seemed to open quickly. Maybe there is some unwritten rule about elevators operating better the closer they get to the ground.
I walked across the garage to my car. I pushed the button on my key-chain. The car whistled at me. It of course meant that I had disarmed the alarm system and unlocked the door. I opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat. I swung around and slid my beautiful, long, slender legs into their assigned places for operating the vehicle. I started the car and pushed the button that opened the top of the convertible. I pushed the buttons on my door console and lowered the windows all the way around. I pulled the scarf out of my bag and wound it around my beautiful hairdo. I tied it off, once I had also wrapped it around my neck. I fastened my seatbelt and felt secure that I was protected from anything. After all, I was driving an American-made car, complete with airbags and seatbelts. What more could a girl want?
I backed out of my spot and drove forward to the gate. I waited while the security grill gate made its slow upward journey. When it had gone up a sufficient distance, I pulled forward to the street. I waited for traffic to clear before pulling out. I had to wait for the first light. After an eternity, the light changed and I continued on my way. I made it through the next three lights unscathed. I caught another red at the entrance to the freeway. I used my free right turn once the large semi rig cleared the intersection and slowly led me up the freeway on-ramp.
Freeway traffic was extremely heavy for some reason. I managed to change lanes and accelerate to a decent speed. ‘I hate big trucks on the freeway,’ I thought as I pulled up behind one—the kind with a lot of overhang on the back before you see the wheels and a big ‘How’s My Driving’ sign. Another semi pulled up beside me on my right, and there were a lot of cars in the lane to my left. The big rig that I had just passed pulled in behind me. ‘For God’s sake, back off mister,’ I thought as all I could see in my rear view mirror was a huge chrome bumper and the underside of the monster truck. I didn’t like the feeling of being boxed in. It was a feeling similar to the one that I had in the elevator. I looked for ways to get out of my predicament. The truck to my right was cruising at the same speed as the rest of us. The cars on the left maintained the same pace. I looked left trying to find a place to get in, but the traffic was bumper to bumper.
Suddenly black smoke came from the trailer tires directly in front of me. The sound of squealing tires made me instinctively put on my brakes. The trailer directly in front of me was getting closer. I knew the hood of my car was under the tall trailer. I glanced in the rear view mirror to see the large chrome bumper just as I felt the truck hit my rear. I was being pushed under the front trailer! I tried to steer to the left, but the car wouldn’t respond. The back of the trailer was almost to my windshield when I instinctively covered my head with my arms and tried to slide down in the seat. At the same moment, my airbag inflated and slammed my head back against the headrest, trapping my arms over my head. The sound of screeching metal became deafening as the rear truck pushed the front of my car under the trailer. I could also feel it demolishing my car as we went down the freeway. I felt the back of my seat begin to move, and I just knew the bumper of the rear truck was pushing on it. The airbag had deflated slightly, and I instinctively tried to duck my head, still covered with my arms. Suddenly the trailer and the truck met, directly over my head. Both of my arms were sandwiched between the trailer and the truck. There was no pain; I just couldn’t get my arms loose as the whole wreck came to a halt. I looked up to see blood running from both of my arms firmly wedged above my head. Suddenly the pain hit me. It became unbearable just as I blacked out . . .
Someone was saying, “It’s going to be all right. We’ll get you out. Hang in there.”
I tried to move, but I couldn’t. I was completely trapped in my what used to be my car. I tried to straighten up my neck. I couldn’t because my head bumped on the bottom of the trailer. My arms were still held firmly over my head. All I could see was the blood covering my white tee shirt. My claustrophobia began to set in as I struggled to free myself. “Help, get me out of here!” I screamed. The pain in my arms grew intense once again, and I blacked out . . .
I heard the sound of a loud motor running. “Get me out of here!” I pleaded. “Somebody help me.”
“We’re working on it,” a voice said. “Just try to stay calm lady. We’re going to be using the jaws.”
I heard the sound of metal crunching around me. I could move one foot now. More metal crunched and someone pulled the steering wheel away. Someone said: “She’s coming around again. Get me a set of vitals.”
A voice right beside me said: “I’m with the fire department; we’re going to get you out. How are you doing?”
“I can’t move my arms. They’re caught on something. They hurt terribly.”
“You’re wedged in pretty tight,” the fireman said. “We’re hooking up a big wrecker to the truck now. We’re going to drag the truck back. That should free your arms. OK?”
“OK. Just get me out of here.”
“Let me get some vitals,” he said as he put his hand on the artery on my neck. “Pulse is 120 and faint. Breathing is 30 and shallow. I can’t get a BP.”
I heard someone repeat the information like he was talking to someone else or to a radio. The voice on the radio said, “Be sure to have pressure bandages in place before you move the truck.”
“I’m going to try and stop the bleeding in your arms,” the fireman said. “I’ll be putting a tight bandage on each one.”
“That’s fine,” is all I said before I blacked out again . . .
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“I’m Doctor Johnson,” the voice said as he shined a light in my eyes. “You’ve been involved in a very serious accident. We’re going to have to operate on your arms.”
“What are you going to do to my arms?” I said in a panic.
“We need to clean up what’s left of them.”
I tried to sit up but couldn’t. I turned my head and raised my right arm. Excruciating pains radiated out from my shoulder. I gasped when I saw the big white bandage above where my elbow used to be. The end of it was bright red. I let my right arm drop and looked at my left to see the same thing. Excruciating pains radiated out from my left shoulder. I let my left arm drop. The pain eased up slightly. “When?” I asked.
“Right now,” he said. “Only your arms were hurt badly. You only have minor cuts and bruises on the rest of your body.”
I looked at him. I could feel the tears in my eyes as my vision became blurry. I tried to talk, but the pain in both arms suddenly grew very intense, and I blacked out again . . .
The light was subdued when I opened my eyes. I heard something rhythmically beeping and saw Dr. Johnson standing there with a nurse. They were talking softly, and I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I was still groggy and not quite sure where I was. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton. I tried to sit up and he said: “Try not to move yet. Lie as still as possible.”
“I need a drink of water,” I said.
The nurse soaked a towel and moistened my lips. “Suck on the towel just a little. If you have too much water, you’ll get sick to your stomach.”
“The operation went fine,” Dr. Johnson said in a reassuring voice. “You just lie still now. I have to do my rounds, and I’ll see you in your room.”
“OK,” I said as I closed my eyes and drifted off . . .
The ceiling was moving when I opened my eyes. I had a sensation of movement. I saw an IV bag dangling above my head. “What’s happening?” I asked.
“We’re taking you to your room now,” a deep male voice said. I tilted my head back and looked up to see a dark-skinned man pushing my bed. I leaned my head forward to see the nurse guiding the foot of the bed. “Lie still and try not to move around. We’re just about there,” he said.
I tried to relax, but both of my arms ached. The journey through what seemed like endless hallways continued. We stopped briefly by the nurses’ station, and another nurse joined us. We went in the door right across from the nurses’ station. They moved the bed into place. The nurses did something to the IV and now had it hooked to some kind of box. Wires were hooked to my patches on my chest. “My arms hurt,” I said.
“We’re getting you hooked up to the morphine machine. Your pain should ease in a minute. The morphine is going to make you real groggy, and you won’t be able to remember what happens for the next couple of days. OK?”
“OK. I don’t care; just make the pain go away,” I said as I watched them moving about the room and moving wires and tubes. I began to get sleepy again . . .
The sun was shining through the window when I opened my eyes. I looked around trying to figure out where I was. Soon I concluded that I was in a hospital room. Tubes and wires were coming out of me and connected to various things. I felt like I wanted to sleep, but fought the notion. A young nurse was sitting at the side of my bed reading a book. “Where am I?” I asked.
“Good, you’re awake. You are at Community Hospital. My name is Lori. You were involved in a very serious car accident.”
“I sort of remember,” I replied as I looked down at my bandages on the stumps of my arms. “My arms are gone!” I cried. “Why did they cut off my arms?” I began sobbing. “My God, why did they cut off my arms?”
“Try to calm down now,” she said softly but firmly. “Let me get Dr. Johnson.” She left the room with me still sobbing and came back quickly with the doctor.
“Try to get a hold of yourself Stacy,” he said firmly. “I’m Dr. Johnson. I saw you in the emergency room before we did the surgery.”
“Why did you cut off my arms?” I asked softly between sobs.
“You didn’t have any arms when you came in. They were both crushed between the two trucks. Only the stumps were left. The firemen said that nothing that even resembled arms and hands were at the scene,” he said. “We shortened and rounded off the bones and cleaned up what was left of the stumps. The surgery went well, and you should have only very small scars.”
“Why did you shorten my arms even more than they were in the accident?”
“In the case of an above the elbow amputation, we need to shorten the stump so that a prosthetic elbow will have space. If we hadn’t done that, your remaining arms would have been too long to fit properly. This way too, we were able to make skin flaps from the skin that was still there. We just kind of folded it around the end and stitched it shut. We didn’t need to do any skin grafts.”
“How about the rest of me?”
“Only minor cuts and bruises. The air bag and seatbelt saved your life. Without them, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I want you to get some rest now. We’re going to have you dangle your feet over the edge of the bed this afternoon. If all goes well, we’ll try to have you stand and take a few steps tonight.”
“How long have I been here?”
“You’ve been here three days. Now lie back and rest.”
I closed my eyes briefly. There was a constant ache on each of the tips of my arms, but the sharp pain was gone. My thoughts drifted back to the terrifying moments of the accident. Suddenly my thoughts flashed forward. How was I going to live without arms? What was my life going to be like now? Could they fit me with artificial arms? What would it be like using artificial arms? I tried to relax, but my mind wouldn’t. How was I going to get at that money now? Have they found out about my little scheme? Relax Stacy, do as the doctor says, try to get a hold of yourself. Now relax.
“Miss Hooks, can I talk to you for a minute?” a uniformed officer asked as he stood in the doorway. “I’d like to talk to you about the accident.”
“Sure, come on in.”
He walked across the room and laid his clipboard on the tray table. “I’m sorry about your injuries.”
“I’d shake your hand, but I have this problem now,” I quipped.
“Can you give me your version of the accident?”
I had the young nurse, Lori, get my wallet out of my bag and give my driver’s license to the officer.
“I was driving down the freeway. I was following a truck. The truck behind me was right on my bumper all the time. I wanted to get away from him, but I was blocked in. The truck I was following put on his brakes. I put on mine, but the truck behind me pushed me under the front truck as he was driving over my car. My airbag went off, and I instinctively covered my head. I ducked the best that I could. My arms ended up between the truck and trailer.”
“That’s about the way we’ve been able to reconstruct the scene and what the witnesses told us,” the officer said.
“Do you know why the truck behind me didn’t stop?”
“A couple of reasons. He was following too close. He was carrying a heavy load of iron ingots. His momentum wouldn’t let him stop quickly,” he said. “I didn’t tell you this, but it’s in the report. The driver was stoned.”
“My God, some stoner made me lose my arms?”
“That’s about it. The front driver was trying not to run over a motorcycle that had gone down in front of him.”
“How’s the motorcyclist doing?”
“He was lucky. He ended up on the pavement under the truck, but he’s OK. His motorcycle was completely destroyed,” he said as he pulled out some papers and placed them on the tray table. “I’ll leave a copy of the report. Your lawyer will probably want it. Thank you for your help. I’m sorry about your arms. It must be tough.”
“I really don’t know how tough it’s going to be. I just woke up.”
He smiled weakly and left the room. I asked the young nurse to raise my head so that I could read the report. When she had me in place, she opened the report and held it so that I could read it. When I finished the first page, I asked her to turn the page for me. I finished reading the report and had her lower the bed. “We need to give you a bath this morning.”
“OK. Go ahead.”
The young nurse closed the door and retrieved a large pan. She filled it with warm water. “Has anyone given you a bath before?”
“Not since my Mom when I was little.”
She removed my hospital gown. I was lying there nude and feeling completely helpless as the two bandaged stumps of what used to be my arms lay at my side. She used a washcloth and started around my face and then down my body. I didn’t like the feel of someone else touching me. She tried to be as gentle as she could. She smiled when she washed my breasts. I thought of the pleasure that I use to gain by touching them. She helped me roll over onto my right side while she washed the left half of my backside. Then she helped me roll onto my left side while she did the remainder of my back. When she finished my side, she helped me lay flat on my back while she washed my long and beautiful legs—my only limbs still completely intact. The bottoms of my feet are ticklish, and I squirmed while she washed them. My most private area she did last. I jumped when she touched my clitoris. It felt strange for someone else to be touching my most intimate spot. She retrieved a clean hospital gown and helped me put it on. “How was that?” she asked.
“Thank you Lori. It seems strange to not be able to do it myself.”
“A bath is something that you’ll probably always need help with.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. I bet there’s a lot of things I’m going to need help with.”
“Once you go to rehab, you’ll find out how much you are able to do for yourself. Dr. Johnson will tell you more about rehab,” she said as she began to comb my hair. “How does that feel now?”
“Thank you Lori. You wore me out.”
“Get some sleep. I’ll sit here and study.”
I leaned back, and the young nurse sat down with her book. I closed my eyes for a while . . .
I opened my eyes when I smelled food. An orderly brought in the lunch tray and placed it on the table. The young nurse asked, “Stacy, are you ready for a little food?”
“I’ll try to eat something.”
She pushed the button and the head of the bed rose. I instinctively reached for the food with the stump of my right arm.
“Let me help you,” she said.
She gave me a spoon of Jell-O to start. I felt like a baby needing to be fed again. She continued to feed me. I leaned forward, and drank the milk through a straw out of one of those little cartons. By the time we finished, my arm stubs were throbbing. It felt good to lie back flat again. The young nurse took the tray away and came back into the room. She asked if I needed anything. I shook my head “No” and closed my eyes. I just started to drift off again . . .
The smell of flowers permeated the room. I opened my eyes to see Barry Nuzzo standing at the foot of the bed.
“How are you doing Stacy?” he said in a hushed tone.
“I’ve been better,” I quipped. “I may not be in the office for a few days.”
“These are from everyone at the office. They were all shocked to hear what had happened to you. They all signed the card.”
“Thank them for me. I really appreciate their thoughtfulness.”
“Is there anything I can get you?”
“How about my arms back?” I said.
He didn’t know quite what to say. A high-priced lawyer at a loss for words is a strange thing to see. He nervously looked around the room.
“I am going to need a lawyer,” I said. “A uniformed officer was in here before lunch. I gave him my version of the accident. He left a copy of the accident report. He said the driver of the truck that ran over me was stoned. The report is on the tray table.” I pointed at it with the stump of my arm.
“If that’s the case, we’ll own his insurance company.”
“That’s the thought that went through my mind. It’s one of the big insurance companies, isn’t it?”
He quickly scanned the report. “It’s North Coast. We’ve dealt with them before. They’re pretty reasonable.”
“They better be more than reasonable. The stoner they were insuring took away my arms,” I said. I could feel tears coming to my eyes. It had just now really hit me that I would never have arms or hands again. I would never be able to touch things with my long delicate fingers.
Barry took a tissue out of the box and walked around the side of the bed. He wiped away my tears and said: “You relax and get well. We’ll take care of these guys for you. I’m going to go now. You get lots of rest. Let me know if you need anything. We are all here for you.”
“Barry, thank you so much for stopping by, and tell everyone thanks.”
“I will. You rest now,” he said before he turned and walked away.
The young nurse came back and adjusted my pillow. She sat down and continued with her book.
“What are you reading Lori?”
“Anatomy,” she replied. “I’m studying to be an RN. Right now, I’m a student nurse.”
I lay back and closed my eyes. I soon drifted off to sleep again . . .
“Stacy, it’s time for you to wake up,” a voice said.
I opened my eyes to see the floor nurse standing there with Lori. I had been asleep and was having a difficult time figuring out what was happening.
“It’s time for you to sit up now,” she said as she pulled back the sheet. The IV hose was attached to my leg. A catheter drained my bladder and had a hose that went to a bag. They disconnected the heart monitors and cables. “We don’t need these anymore.” I was down to just two tubes. The young nurse held the tubes and guided my feet. The floor nurse steadied me as I sat up straight for the first time in three days. “How are you doing?” she asked.
“I was a little dizzy at first, but I’m fine now.”
“Just sit there a while,” the floor nurse said. Lori smiled at me, and I managed to smile back. The nurse moved a chair close. “Let’s have you sit in the chair while we change your bed.”
They helped me sit in the chair while they both quickly changed the linen and remade the bed. When they finished, the floor nurse said: “That’s enough. Let’s get you lying down again.” I was exhausted and didn’t argue at all as the two of them helped me back into bed and a prone position. “You did fine for the first time up. This evening we’ll take a few steps. OK? We’re right here if you need us.”
Lori, the student nurse, sat down in the chair and began to read again as I closed my eyes . . .
“Hi there sleepyhead,” Dr. Johnson said as I opened my eyes. “It’s time to change your bandages.” He produced a large syringe with a nasty looking needle on the end.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“I’m going to numb your arms while I change the bandages. You wouldn’t be able to stand the pain if I didn’t. I don’t want you passing out on me.” He injected half of the syringe in one arm and half in the other. “That will take a little while to take effect.”
“While we’re waiting, can you tell me a little about my immediate future and rehab?”
“OK,” he said. “We’ll keep you here in this part of the hospital for probably another two weeks until we are sure that there will be no infection. I’ve ordered around-the-clock nursing for you for the first week. Has Lori been taking good care of you?”
“Yes, she’s doing a good job. I’d like to keep her steady if at all possible.”
“I’ll talk to her supervisor. She works a twelve-hour shift, so you’ll have someone else at night. At the end of the two weeks, we’ll transfer you to the rehab wing. By that time, the bandages will be off your arms. At that point, the prosthetist can begin fitting you with artificial arms. While he’s building your arms, the rehab folks will begin teaching you how to do things by yourself. Once your prosthetic arms are completed, they’ll spend a couple of weeks teaching you how to use them. How does that sound?”
“It sounds expensive.”
“It’s not going to be cheap. The insurance companies will pick up the tab. I’ll have the prosthetist stop by and talk to you when he can. I think you’ll like him. How do your arms feel now?”
“They’re both numb. I can’t feel a thing.”
“Good, let’s get started,” he said as he took out the scissors and began cutting the tape that held the bulky bandage in place. He soon had the bandages off of both arms. He cleaned the dried blood from both of them with an antiseptic solution. He squeezed and kneaded the stumps. “Do you want to take a good look?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m dying to see what they look like.”
“Now before you look, remember they are still puffy and discolored. The incisions are still leaking slightly. It’s a natural part of the healing process.” Lori handed him a mirror. He adjusted the hand mirror so that I could look at the tips and the scars. They were puffy and discolored, just as he had described. The heavy scars looked ugly. It was something that I wished I hadn’t seen, but my curiosity had gotten the best of me. “The heavy dark scars will heal to fine white lines in about a year,” he said.
“Thanks for showing them to me.”
Dr. Johnson used a swab to place more antiseptic over the scars and then wrapped each arm in a new clean white bandage that was a little less bulky than the last ones. “There we go,” he said. “I’m going home for my dinner. Yours should be along soon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you doctor,” I said as he walked out the door with a confident stride.
Lori adjusted my pillow, and I closed my eyes until dinner came. Lori propped me up and fed me again. I felt completely helpless and vulnerable. After dinner, Lori brushed my teeth. We watched TV until it was time for shift change.
The night nurse relieved Lori. I didn’t like her as well. The floor nurse came in and helped me dangle my feet for a while. “Are you ready for a little walk?”
“Let’s give it a try.”
She slid some hospital slippers on my feet and tied the back laces of my hospital gown. She put the stubs of my arms in the sleeves of a white robe. With a nurse holding each side of me, I stood up on shaky legs. We stood there for a minute. One nurse held the IV bottle, and the other, the contents of my urine bag. My first step was a monumental one. I took several others and soon felt fine. We walked to the door and out into the corridor. I looked up and down the corridor to see my surroundings. We walked back into my room. I asked the nurse to remove my robe while I was standing in front of the mirror. I almost began to cry when I saw how I looked standing there with just the bandages above where my elbows had been three days ago. They helped me back into bed. I was exhausted. They readjusted the IV bottle and hung my urine bag on the hook on the bed frame. I closed my eyes and was soon asleep . . .
The second day routine was pretty much the same. They were weaning me off of the morphine. They got me up to walk three times that day. I had a bowel movement and felt terribly embarrassed when Lori had to wipe me. I had no visitors that day . . .
The next day started the same way. By noon, the morphine drip machine was history. The catheter was removed, and Lori helped me use the toilet.
In the afternoon, I had a visit from the prosthetist, Dave. I had an instant rapport with him. I also thought that he was extremely good looking. He took some measurements. He told me that they always start by making manually operated arms first. If I wanted myoelectric arms, he could build those later, but he wanted me to be able to use to the manual type. He told me that he would begin ordering the parts for my new arms. We discussed terminal devices. I had been giving it a lot of thought.
“If I’m going to have artificial arms, I want them to look like artificial arms,” I said. “I want to have a pair of shiny steel hooks. That way, people will remember my name.”
“What do you mean, remember your name?”
“Look on the chart. My name is Stacy Hooks,” I said.
He looked at the chart and started to chuckle. We both started laughing. “I’ll go over to my office and get some hook samples,” he said, still chuckling. “I’ll be back soon.”
When he left, the floor nurse came in and removed my IV. I was no longer tethered to the IV pole.
The prosthetist, Dave, came back with a sample case. He set it on the tray table and opened it. There were several different hook terminal devices. Dave explained the thought behind each design. I told him that I needed to be able to operate a computer. He showed me the one that he recommended.
“Do you think I’d look cool with that one?”
He smiled and winked at me and said, “A good-looking woman like you will look cool in any of them.”
I decided on that ones that he’d recommended. He said he would order the parts this afternoon. He would build the lower arm first; those were pretty standard. Then he would build the upper arm outside shell and attach the elbow. The last part would be the socket. He needed to make plaster casts of my stumps to build them. The socket would fit down inside the shell of the upper arm. He couldn’t make the socket until my arm stumps had healed and the swelling had gone down. He also told me that the sockets would need to be rebuilt from time to time as my stumps changed and atrophied. He said he would be back to show me the progress. As he was leaving, Lori came into the room.
“Hi Lori,” he said. “How are you?”
“Hi Dr. Dave. I’m doing just great, thank you. The new knee is wonderful.”
“Super. Call me if you need anything. Good seeing you again,” he said as he left.
“What did you mean, new knee?” I said.
“I wear a leg prosthesis.”
I looked over at her. She was wearing her nurses uniform with a short skirt. “Really. Which one? I can’t tell.”
“Thanks. Dr. Dave did a great job. He’s made all my legs.”
“How long have you needed an artificial leg?”
“Since I was four. I developed bone cancer, and they had to amputate right here,” she said as she pointed to her mid thigh on her left leg.
“I never would have suspected it. You don’t have any limp at all.”
“Thanks. It has taken a lot of practice to walk without limping. I’ve been doing it so long now that it’s my normal walk.”
“Both legs match beautifully. I could never tell which one is not real.”
“Dr. Dave put a new skin-like covering on this one. It looks and feels like real skin. It’s like a long stocking that covers my entire leg.”
“I still can’t believe that you’re an amputee too.”
“It’s one of the reasons I volunteered to work with you. I know what you must be going through. I remember the pain. I never will forget that. I also remember how strange my body felt at first. Luckily, I only lost my leg, not both arms. I really admire your courage. I really want to be able to help you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate all that you’ve been doing. I still can’t believe that you’re an amputee.”
“Most people don’t know, so let’s keep it as our secret,” she said as she went to refill my water pitcher.
I watched closely as she walked out of the room. There was absolutely no sign of a limp or strange leg action.
Each day I got a little stronger and more comfortable with my new self. I no longer had twenty-four hour nurses; I was able to get around pretty much by myself. Barry had stopped by twice to tell me about the insurance claim. Things were going well, in fact, better than I’d expected. Several of my coworkers stopped by and brought more flowers. I think seeing me without arms was depressing them. I had Lori stop by my place and bring me some clothes to wear. Lori had broken up with her boyfriend . . .
A week had gone by since I’d last seen Dave, the prosthetist. One afternoon he popped his head in the doorway. He had a large sack. He opened the sack and showed me what he’d done so far. Both of the lower arms were complete. I stood by the mirror, and he held it about where I would wear it.
“Am I going to look pretty cool or what?” I said.
He looked at my stumps. “How tender are they?” he asked as he touched one. He squeezed it until I obviously felt pain. He squeezed the other one. “You’re about ready for rehab; aren’t you?”
“Dr. Johnson says the day after tomorrow they’ll be ready for me.”
“OK then,” he said. “Let’s do the casts tomorrow. I’ll come and get you about ten. I’ll tell Dr. Johnson.”
I was so excited I could hardly eat as Lori fed me. I knew I was on the road to independence again. I had a hard time sleeping . . .
Lori fed me breakfast and gave me a sponge bath. She did a good job on my hair and makeup. I was wearing a V-necked tee shirt and full-length blue jeans when Dave arrived.
I slipped on my penny loafers and we started down the hall. We stepped on the elevator. I hadn’t been off the floor in a month. Even though I hate elevators, it felt good to be going somewhere else. We got off at the main floor and walked across the lobby. The automatic door slid open, and I stepped outside into the fresh air. The warmth of the sun and the fresh morning air felt exhilarating. His car was parked right next to the door in a patient-loading zone. He opened the door for me, and I sat in the seat. I seductively slid my legs into the car. He closed the door and walked around the car. He opened his door and got in. He fastened my seatbelt before he did his. We backed out of the parking stall and drove to the lot entrance. It was a five minute drive to his office located in a small strip mall. The only marking was a very small sign. If you didn’t know the place was there, you would never have found it.
He undid the seatbelts and got out of the car. He opened my door and helped me get out of the car. He put his hand in the middle of my back as we walked across the parking lot. I enjoyed his reassuring touch. He unlocked the door and held it open as we went inside. He locked the door behind us. All of the shades were drawn, and the entry was bathed in a very subdued light. He led the way to the workroom and turned on the light. The workroom was full of artificial limbs of various sizes, mostly legs. A corner of the workroom contained arm parts. Two new arms were displayed on the workbench. “These are yours,” he said proudly.
I recognized the terminal devices and the forearms that he had brought to the hospital yesterday. “These look almost complete. What do you have left to do on them?”
“I need to build the socket to slip inside this shell and to rig the harness. I’m going to make plaster casts of your stumps today. Then I’ll build full scale models of your stumps. I’ll use the full scale model to build the sockets. Before we get started, I need to take some pictures for reference. I’d like to take your tee shirt off and do the pictures in your bra.”
“I’m not wearing a bra.”
“Do you mind if I take the pictures without a bra?”
“I suppose not. You’ll have to take off my tee shirt though. I haven’t been able to figure out how to wiggle out of it like I do the hospital gowns.”
He pulled the tee shirt over my head. He looked at my firm un-sagging breasts and smiled at me. He removed the elastic bandages that now covered my arm stumps. He had me stand next to a blank wall and took Polaroid pictures from all four sides. We walked over to an area that was obviously used for plaster casting. He had me sit on a stool and draped a cape over my blue jeans. He slipped some sock-like cloth tubes over my arm stumps. He had a roll of white gauze that had already been loaded with plaster that he soaked briefly in warm water. I held my right arm stump out while he systematically wrapped the wet gauze completely around it until the gauze was several layers thick and completely covered my stump, clear up to my shoulder. Next, he concentrated on the left arm stump and used exactly the same procedure. When he was finished, I was sitting with both of my arm stubs in heavy plaster casts. He washed the plaster from his hands. “The casts should be set up in about fifteen minutes,” he said. “Sit tight while I put some music on. Would you care for a can of pop?”
“A diet cola would be fine.”
“OK. I don’t have any straws. I’ll hold it for you.” He opened the pop and held it so I could drink a little. While he was holding the pop, he was admiring my breasts.
“Go ahead and feel them up if you want,” I said.
“As much as I’d like to, I wouldn’t dare. One word from you and I’d lose my license in an instant. But I admit they do make concentrating on my work difficult.” He finished feeding me the diet cola.
“What does the harness look like?” I asked.
He touched the casts. “Just a few minutes more,” he said. He took the drape off my lap and said: “Your harness is right over here. It’s called a ‘Bilateral Trans-Humeral Figure of 8 Harness.’ It’s designed to both hold and operate both arms. It is difficult to get into, but once it’s adjusted, it’s the best on the market.” He laid the harness out on the table. “The part that makes the big X goes across the middle of your back, right at your shoulder blades. These straps go over your shoulders to hold the arms on—one at the top and the other just above the elbow. This cable will operate your elbow and this cable will open your hook.”
“It looks like it would be difficult for me to get on without help.”
“It is. However, if I put longer and more easily adjustable straps over the shoulder, I think that you will be able to do it on your own.”
“If I can’t get them on by myself, you’ll have to stop by each morning and help me. Or would your wife or girlfriend mind?”
“I don’t have either one at the moment.”
“Do you ever date your clients?” I asked in a seductive voice.
“I try not to mix business with pleasure,” he replied.
“We could call it extended prosthesis operation training.”
“We might be able to do something like that,” he said as he touched the plaster again. “I think the casts are ready to come off.” He gently pulled on the right one. It came off when I relaxed my arm. The left one came off equally easy. He marked a large L and R on the casts. He slid the sock tube off of my stumps and washed the plaster off of his hands.
“Could you wash the plaster off my breasts please?”
He wet a washcloth with warm water and washed each breast carefully, then dried them both at the same time with a large fluffy towel. “God, those are nice,” he said softly.
“Maybe you can come by my apartment and adjust my hooks sometime.”
He didn’t say anything, but he just smiled as he put the elastic socks back on my arm stumps. Then he put my tee shirt back on, being sure to brush my breasts with his hands in the process.
“How soon before we see the final product?”
“I’ll take you back to the hospital and then come back and work on the sockets. Probably tomorrow afternoon we can do the final fitting.”
“Can I stay and watch? I’m tired of being cooped up in the hospital. I’ll stay out of your way.”
“Let me call Dr. Johnson,” he said as he picked up the phone. His call was quickly answered. He talked to Dr. Johnson for a minute and then held the phone for me to talk to him.
“Doctor, it was my idea to stay for a while longer . . . He did the casts, and now he’s going to make the models of my arms . . . I’m fine. I’ll just sit right here on the stool . . . I know, I won’t overdo.”
Dave hung up the phone and put on an apron. I sat on the stool and watched as he painted something on the inside of the casts. He set both casts in a small box with sand. He said the sand holds the casts in place while he pours the model. He mixed up a large bowl of plaster of Paris and filled each cast. After the cast was filled, he stuck a one inch square steel tube down the center of each. “I’ll be able to put the models in the vice and hold them by these tubes.”
“How long before the plaster sets?”
“I should be able to pull them out of the casts in an hour. They need to set overnight before I start to pour the sockets. Let’s work on your harness attachments.”
We walked over to the other bench. The fittings were already marked on the upper arms. He drilled holes in the arms for both the upper strap clasp and the lower strap clasp, then bolted them in place. I held out my right arm slightly, and he slipped the upper outer shell around it. I could see what the new arm would look like.
He slipped the right arm off, and we tried the left one. My excitement was growing, and it was getting difficult to wait.
“What’s next?” I asked.
“Just waiting now. We can strip the cast in about forty-five minutes. So we wait. Is there anything special you want to do?”
“Yes, but I don’t think you’re quite ready,” I said. “Does that computer have Internet access?”
“Yes, I’m online.”
“Can you help me check something out?”
“Sure. What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to call up my e-mail server and help me check messages.”
He logged on to the Internet. I gave him instructions on how to find my e-mail site. I told him my login page name, and he typed it in. He got me an unsharpened pencil. I had him put the lead end in my mouth, and he went into the other room while I used the pencil eraser to laboriously type in my password. The site popped up, and I used the pencil eraser to scroll through the list of messages. The list of messages was a mile long. The ones from work at Drake and Sweeney I would deal with later. I was looking for ones from the bank on Grand Cayman Island. There was just one. It read simply:
Current account balance 50.
I sat back in disbelief. I knew that he had been laundering a lot of money but not that much. The message meant that there was fifty million dollars in my numbered account. I suddenly became nervous that someone would find out what I had done. The transfer file was in a hidden file in a hidden directory. The two line program changes in the mainframe that sent temporary control to the transfer program couldn’t be hidden. I needed a partner who I could trust.
“Is everything OK?” he called from the other room.
“Fine,” I said with the pencil still clinched in my teeth. I logged off and laid the pencil on the desk, then went into the other room.
Dave looked at the clock. “Let’s strip the casts off now.” He took the one marked ‘R’ and marked ‘R’ on the part that was showing. He put the tube in the vice and pulled the cast off of the full size model of my right arm stump. He did the same procedure to the left one. I was standing there looking at full size replicas of my arm stumps. “These need to dry overnight. There’s nothing left to do here. Let me take you back.”
“Are you sure that there’s nothing else to do here?” I said as I moved real close to him.
“Not right now. I don’t mix business with pleasure. But you sure would be a pleasure.”
“You can’t fault a horny armless girl for trying. By the looks of the bulge in your pants, part of you would like to do pleasure.”
His face turned beet red. He didn’t say anything. He motioned to the door, and I walked that way. He turned off the light in the workroom, and we walked through the reception area. He unlocked the front door. I walked outside, and he locked the door behind him. Before we started across the parking lot, I faced him squarely and said: “Dave, I’m sorry. I really do want to be your friend.”
“Thanks Stacy. I hope you can see where I’m coming from. I can’t afford to lose my license. I would like to go out with you once you’re discharged from rehab.”
“I’d like that. Maybe I could repay you in another way. I’m going to be looking for a business partner.”
“I’m really content with doing what I’m doing. I’m not really interested.”
“If you were to come in on this business deal with me, you wouldn’t have to work anymore if you didn’t want to.”
“Thanks. But if I was your partner, then I couldn’t be your lover. I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
“OK. I won’t have you for a business partner, but I’ll try you for a lover when I get out of rehab.”
He smiled and nodded his head. He put his hand on the middle of my back as we started across the parking lot. He held the car door for me to get in and then went around to his side and got in. As he was fastening my seatbelt, I gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for springing me today.”
“I enjoyed it, and we got some work done. It was neat having you around,” he said as we pulled out of the parking lot. “Maybe you could come to work for me. I need a receptionist.”
“Thanks. I have a job at Drake and Sweeney that’s waiting for me. Besides, then we’d have to mix business with pleasure.”
“If that’s the case, I’ll take the pleasure. I can always find a receptionist.”
“I’m looking forward to the pleasure,” I said as we pulled into the hospital parking lot. He pulled into a patient loading parking place. He undid the seatbelts and got out of the car. He came around and opened my door. I got out and walked beside him back into the hospital. We got into the elevator and went to my floor. Lori was waiting when I got back to my room.
“I’ll pick you up at two o’clock tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll be ready for the final fitting.”
“I can hardly wait,” I said as he left. I turned to Lori and said, “I’m getting my new arms tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh Stacy. I’m so happy for you. I remember how excited I was,” she said as she gave me a little hug.
“I’m so excited, I probably won’t sleep tonight,” I said as I walked into my room. “Close the door for a minute please. I need to talk to you.”
She closed the door and walked back over with a worried look on her face. “What is it?” she asked.
“I need to ask you a couple of personal questions.”
“OK, go ahead.”
“Do you do drugs?”
“I’ve never done drugs and never intend on even trying them. I hate what the drug lords have done to people. I wish there was some way at getting back at them.”
“Do you drink?”
“I will have a beer every once in a while. I did get really drunk once. I didn’t like the hangover the next day, so I’ve never done that again.”
“Thank you for being honest with me. Can you be discreet and keep a secret?”
“Yes. I think that I’m very good at it.”
“Good. I’ll be getting out of here in two weeks, as you know. I’m going to need help every day. You and I have hit it off pretty well, and I’d like you to come and work for me.”
“I don’t know what to say. I’d like to, but I need to finish school to become an RN.”
“I’ll make it well worth your while. Say how about double an RN salary to start.”
Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. She sat down. “I can’t believe what you just said.”
“Look. I’ll be getting a good-sized settlement from the insurance company. I can afford it, and I need the help. What do you say?”
“Oh yes, definitely.”
“Good. I’d like you to be able to start full time when I go home. Can you arrange that?”
“That will give the hospital two weeks notice. That’s more than they usually get.”
“OK. One other thing, don’t tell a soul what you are going to be doing. Make up a story why you’re quitting. That is very important. Understand?”
“No, I don’t understand. But if that’s what you want, that’s what I’ll do.”
“Great. I’ll tell you why later.”
She went out into the hall and got the dinner tray out of the cart and brought it in. I sat on the edge of the bed while she fed me. She washed my face before she took the tray out. “I’m heading home now. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“I’m fine thanks. I’m pleased that you’re coming to work for me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She had a huge smile on her face when she said goodbye. I watched the early news out in the waiting room. I went back into my room when a smoker showed up. I was lying on the bed watching TV when Barry Nuzzo walked in.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Not too much.”
“I get my arms tomorrow afternoon, and then I start rehab. I’ll be out of here in two weeks.”
“That’s great,” he said. “We’re looking forward to having you back. Your insurance claim is really looking good. We probably won’t have to go to trial.”
“Oh darn. I was looking forward to sitting on the witness stand and waving my arm stumps at the jury. Hell, I could get them to award me this half of the state.”
“I bet you could.”
“Barry, I know I’ve been gone a long time. But I want to take another two weeks off when I get out of rehab. I just want to get away for a while. You know, get used to my new body.”
“I can see where you’re coming from. When we get your settlement, you won’t have to work anyway. It’ll probably be all right,” he said. “But I might not be there when you get back.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know that Colombian account. They think they’re missing some money, and they think I did it.”
“Are they missing a lot?”
“They think it’s about fifty million. Not that much for those guys, but it sounds like a lot to me. It’s the principle with them, and they’re really pissed.”
“What did you have to do with it?”
“Nothing. That’s the strange part. I set it up with accounting and haven’t touched it again. The partners believe me, but they have to deal with the connection. They’re looking for a scapegoat.”
“Bummer. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I’d be a hero if I could find out who did it or where the money went.”
“What are you doing to find the culprit?”
“Hell, I don’t even know where to start looking. It could be a million places.”
“I have faith in you. I know you’ll catch up to him.”
“Thanks for your optimism. I should be going. I just needed to vent.”
“Barry, you’ve always been a good boss. Let me know what I can do to help.”
“Nothing right now. I’ll see you later.” He got up to leave.
“Remember, I’ll be moving to rehab tomorrow. I’ll be in the other wing.”
“I’ll find you,” he said as he gave me a little hug. “Good luck with those new arms.”
I smiled and winked at him as he left. My joy was soon over when I thought of the consequences of my brilliant computer work. I needed to get to the mainframe.
I called a nurse. She undressed me and got me into a hospital gown. I got into bed. I wasn’t a bit sleepy. I needed to work out a plan to get those two lines of code off of the mainframe. My mind wouldn’t quit working. I tried to sleep, but it was useless.
Lori came in at her usual time. She gave me my bath, then did my hair and makeup. She told me that she had turned in her resignation. People were shocked, but no one questioned her motive. She was ready with a sick grandmother in Detroit story. She fed me breakfast and dressed me. She packed my things.
Dr. Johnson came in and gave me a final exam and clean bill of health. “Are you ready for the big move?” he asked.
“Lori has packed all my things I’ve managed to accumulate in my month here.”
“We do collect things, don’t we?”
“Doctor, I’ve been here for four weeks now. I’d like to check into rehab and then spend tonight at home in my own bed. I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
“Did that little trip to Dave’s workshop make you long for the outside world again?”
“No, just a night at home between my satin sheets. Someone will be there with me. What do you say? Please.”
“OK. I’ll fix it up with the rehab director. Why don’t you get out of here?” he said as he left my room.
I turned to Lori. “I need you tonight.”
“OK. What’s up?” she said as she finished putting my things in the cart.
“I’ll tell you later. I’ll meet you at seven in the lobby. Plan on spending the night at my place.”
“I’ll be there. You can count on me,” she said as we started down the hallway to the elevator. We rode down to the main floor. The door opened, and we walked into the lobby. I repressed my urge to bolt for the door. Instead, we walked down a long corridor until we were in another building. We entered the rehabilitation clinic.
A nicely dressed lady met us in the reception area. “You must be Stacy Hooks. Dr. Johnson just called. Right this way to your new room.”
She led the way, and Lori and I followed. She showed us to my new room. It wasn’t a typical hospital room. It was less institutionalized and more like a residential setting. “Why don’t you get settled, and I’ll start the paperwork.” She left the room.
Lori put my things in the dresser and hung my clothes in the closet. She put my toiletries in the bathroom and said in a hoarse whisper, “OK, see you at seven.”
“Great. I’ll see you then,” I said quietly as she left. I looked around my room and sat in one of the easy chairs.
Soon the rehab director came back. She sat in the other chair. “Dr. Johnson tells me that you want out of here tonight.”
“Yes. I’ve been cooped up in the hospital for a month. I thought a one night break might be in order before we got serious about rehab.”
“You do have someone to be with you?”
“Yes. Someone will be picking me up.”
“Well OK. As long as you don’t go out partying and come back all hung over in the morning.”
“Very little chance of that. I just want to spend a night in my own bed”
“I see that you’re scheduled to get your new arms this afternoon. Are you excited?”
“Good God yes. I was over there yesterday and did the castings. He let me stay to see him make the full size model of my arm stumps. He showed me the arms then. All he has left to do is build the sockets.”
“Great. Why don’t we finish off the morning with a tour and introductions? Maybe we can have you do some toe practice too,” she said as she stood up.
I took the cue and followed her out into the corridor. She gave me a full tour of the place and introduced me to the rehab specialists. Ann, who wore a single above the elbow prosthesis on her right arm, would be my instructor. We finished the morning by having me try to pick up things with my toes. When lunch came, Ann fed me. She used her hook rather than her good hand. They had me doing toe exercises again after lunch.
Promptly at two o’clock, Dave walked into the room. He seemed to know all of the staff. He walked over to me and with a big smile said, “Are you ready for this?”
“You bet I am,” I replied as I slipped on my penny loafers. We walked side by side out of the room and to a side door. His car was parked close. We got into the car, and took a quick drive to his office. We walked to the door, and he unlocked it. We both walked in, and he locked the door behind us. He led the way to the workroom. My new arms with the shiny steel hooks were lying on the bench. “They look beautiful,” I said. “I can hardly wait to put them on.”
“Let’s get started,” he said as he removed my blouse. I was standing there in my bra. He smiled again as he looked at my well-developed bosom. He had stump socks that were connected in the back that would protect me from harness chafing. He had me sit on the stool and had me raise my arms as he slipped them on. Next, he slipped the socket over my right arm stump and made sure it fit properly. Then he did the left. They both fit perfectly. He had me hold my right arm stub straight out as he slid the tube of the upper arm over the socket. For the first time, I could begin to feel the weight of my new arms. He had me lean forward and rest the hook on the table while he put the left arm over the socket. He had me bring my arm down and rest my left hook on the table. Next, he retrieved the harness. He centered it on my back and threaded both upper shoulder straps through the clasps I had watched him install yesterday. Next, he threaded the straps through the fittings just above the elbow on the inside. He had me walk over to the wall and back wearing my new prosthetic arms. They were a lot heavier than I thought they would be.
“Well, what do you think?” he said as he pushed on each arm to be sure that the sockets were fully seated.
“They’re beautiful,” I said.
“Let me tighten up the front straps a little more,” he said. “OK. Cables next.” He threaded the cable for my right hook down through some leather loops and through a little post on my right forearm. He locked the cable to the little post. “Shrug your left shoulder.”
When I did, the hook on my right arm opened. When I relaxed, it closed. I was excited to see the hook work. Next, he attached the cables to my left arm, and when he had it adjusted, I could shrug my right shoulder to make it operate. I tried each hook several times. He attached the cables to the elbows next and showed me what I needed to do to position my elbows. “I think that should do it,” he said. “How do they feel?”
“Like I’m on the road to some measure of independence,” I replied.
He smiled and said, “Picture time again.”
“I wore my bra today.”
“I definitely noticed right away.”
He took four more Polaroid pictures for his files—one from each angle. He carefully threaded the sleeves of my blouse over my new hooks and arms. He carefully buttoned the blouse and tucked it into the waistband of my blue jeans. I walked over to the mirror and looked closely. “I do look pretty hot, don’t I?”
“I’ll have to admit that you are the hottest client that I’ve ever had.”
I opened and closed the hooks as I watched in the mirror. I practiced adjusting the elbow too.
“Let’s get you back so that Ann can teach you how to use my creations. She’s been wearing hers since she was fifteen.”
We left the office and drove back to the rehab entrance to the hospital. We walked up to the door, and I was able to open the lever handle to let us in. Ann was waiting, and I said goodbye to Dave.
“Look at you,” she said.
“OK. How do I use these things?”
We went to work on my training in earnest. By dinnertime, I was able to pick up a fork and eat a few bites by myself. Ann fed me the rest. After dinner, we worked a little longer on operating my new arms and hooks. They would never fully replace my hands, but I knew that they would make me reasonably functional again. We quit at six-thirty, and Ann went home. I went back to my room and managed to put my jacket on using my new hooks. I studied myself in the mirror. I thought the hooks made me look quite erotic.
I walked down to the lobby. Lori was waiting. She looked different dressed in blue jeans. She looked me over and said: “Do you look hot or what? I love the look of those hooks.”
We walked out through the automatic doors. She opened the door for me to get into her car. I managed to grasp the seatbelt with my left hook. I was trying to get it in the clasp when Lori got in her side. She watched me struggle for a minute and then did it for me. “You’re getting pretty good with those for just getting them this afternoon.”
“Thanks,” I said as we pulled out of the parking lot.
“I’ve known people who have had just one of those for years and still can’t make it work,” she replied as we started down the street.
“I need these to get my life moving again. I’m committed to learning all the tricks that I can about operating them. Let’s go to my place first.”
We drove for about ten minutes until we got to my apartment building. I had her take the key card out of my bag so that we could get into the parking garage. The gate opened, and I directed her to my parking spot. It was empty because I no longer had a car. She released my seatbelt, and I was able to open the car door by myself.
We walked to the elevator, and I used one of my hooks to push the call button. We got into the elevator, and I pushed the button for my floor. During the ride up, I managed to fish my keys out of my bag. The elevator stopped at my floor, and we walked down the hall. I used both hooks to properly position the door key. I managed to get the key in the lock on the first try. I tried but I didn’t know how to turn the key—something that Ann would have to teach me. Lori unlocked and opened the door. I led the way as we walked into the apartment. It seemed good to be home again, even if it was only for one night.
We sat down on the couch. “Lori, remember I asked you if you could keep a secret?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Well, I have a big secret to tell you. I’ve managed to redirect some of a drug lord’s money into a secret bank account—a lot of money by our standards.”
Her mouth fell open, but she didn’t say a thing.
“Lori, I need a business partner. The money that I’ve accumulated needs to be moved. If you help me, I’ll make it well worth your while. You will be a very wealthy woman.”
“Is it risky?”
“If we get caught, we both could be killed maybe, but hell, I almost got killed on the freeway.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Operate a computer and take me on a recuperation vacation.”
“Is that all? Where are we going?”
“To the Caribbean. But we’re going to take the long way there.”
“I’m in. How soon do you plan on going?”
“They’ve just discovered that the money is missing. We’ll go just as soon as I learn to use these new hooks and get out of rehab. I need to be able to run my laptop computer. I also don’t want to raise suspicion by just running away. They expect me to be gone for a couple of weeks on vacation when I finish rehab.”
“I can run a computer. I’ve taken several courses in college. I have a class on using the mainframe at school this quarter.”
“What I did was write a program on the office computer to transfer some of the money that came in from the drug lord’s account to a numbered account offshore. The program is in a hidden directory, and it will take them a while to find it. I also put two lines of code in the bank’s mainframe that calls up my program. We need to get rid of the mainframe code tonight.”
“Are we going to break into the bank?”
“No, we’re going to use my laptop to access the mainframe. All the software that we need to modify programs is already loaded in the removable hard drive. We just need a place to plug in the modem.”
“Why don’t you just do it from here?”
“I don’t want to have any phone records that can be traced back here to the apartment. The phone company keeps track of all calls, even if they aren’t long distance. The last time I accessed the program, I checked into a hotel that I knew provided modem lines.”
“We need to do it tonight then, don’t we?”
“What we need to do is stop by the cash machine, then have you pay cash for the room when you register under an assumed name. When you get the room, I’ll come in the back way. I’m pretty conspicuous with these hooks. We’ll make the calls and remotely reprogram the mainframe tonight. Then we’ll leave.”
“I’m ready to do this when you are,” she said with an evil grin.
I knew I’d picked the right partner.
I retrieved my laptop from my study, and Lori put it in the travel case. We double-checked to be sure that we had the modem and power supply. We left and drove to a cash machine. I had Lori withdraw three hundred out of my checking account. We drove to a different hotel than I had used before. It was a large sprawling complex. I had her put on my horn rim reading glasses and baseball cap. She complained about not being able to see well. She checked in, then drove the car around to one of the side entrances. She went inside and held a baseball cap over the TV surveillance camera while I walked in. Luckily, cameras only covered the doors and not the hallways.
We went into the room and set up the laptop in the in-room office area. She plugged the modem into the wall outlet and started the computer. I told her where the mainframe access program was. I had written a macro that dials the access number for the bank mainframe and accesses it through a backdoor logon that the programmers used. It worked like a champ. We were in. She was able to scroll to the two lines of code that I had previously added to the program. She was able to erase the first line successfully, but when she erased the second line, the mainframe crashed. I had her power down the laptop and unplug the modem. When she powered up the laptop and tried to use the modem again, the line was still locked to the mainframe. We were imagining the panic that must be going on at the bank with their mainframe crashed by a hacker. We powered down the computer and packed up.
“Do you think we got it erased?”
“We probably did,” I said. “My concern is that now they can do a trace back to the line in this room and have a reason to do it. We need to get out of here.”
We wiped the room clean of any fingerprints that Lori might have left. I no longer needed to worry about fingerprints. We packed up the laptop and started for the car. Lori held the baseball cap over the TV surveillance camera while I went out to the car. When I was in the clear, she walked out another entrance, being careful not to look into the camera. She walked across the parking lot and met me waiting in the car. I was proud of myself for being able to open the car door. Lori got in and started toward the entrance to the parking lot. We were just driving out when a patrol car with its lights flashing pulled into the parking lot.
“Do you think they were after us?” Lori asked.
“If the phone line is still locked up, they might have gotten a trace this quick.”
“I’m glad that I put down a phony car description and license number on the registration,” Lori said with a big grin. “How are we going to wipe out the one at your office?”
“We’re not going to do it tonight. I’ll make a visit to the office when I get out of rehab. I’ll use my office computer to get rid of it. I’ll tell them that I’m getting my e-mail. Let’s stop for a beer and then take the long way back to my apartment.”
We drove around for a while, then stopped for a beer. I got a lot of stares from the guys. I ordered a beer with a long-neck bottle. I surprised myself when I was able to grasp it and drink it with very little problem. We had only one before we left. We drove back to my place. I had Lori step on the glasses and break them before she threw them in the garbage container in our parking garage. We went up to the apartment. I had her take the removable hard drive out of laptop and put in the other one. That hard drive was the only traceable link to what we had done. Many hours of research had gone into that program. I was reluctant to give it up. I found the original packing box, then had her put the drive in the box and wrap it for mailing. I gave her the address of my private post office box. I had paid for the box for a year in advance. They would hold it indefinitely for me.
I made a call to arrange for passports with fictitious names. I had used this gentleman before. He was good and also very discreet. He had my picture on file in his computer. I told him that Lori would be dropping by to have her picture taken. When I hung up, I gave Lori instructions on how to get to his place—something for her to do tomorrow evening.
I told Lori that I wanted to shower before bed. I had her remove my blouse. I was able to remove my blue jeans and panties using my hooks. I had her remove my hooks and stump socks. She laid them on the cedar chest. It seemed strange to see my arms lying there without me. She removed my bra. I was standing there nude when she went in to start the water. She adjusted the temperature, and I got in. The shower felt wonderful after a month of sponge baths. Soon Lori joined me in the shower. I was almost shocked to see her without her leg for the first time. I had really never noticed what a nice figure my new business partner had. She lathered up a washcloth and began to wash me. I realized how much I had come to enjoy her touch. This time when she reached my private parts, her hand lingered a bit longer—something that I didn’t mind at all. She lathered herself; we both rinsed off and got out of the shower. I was fascinated watching her hopping around the bathroom. She dried me first and then herself. She held my robe while I slipped into it. She wrapped herself in the large towel. The stump of her left leg bobbed around as she hopped.
We sat in the living room and talked for a long while. We talked about the rest of the plan and had it well worked out. She seemed unconcerned about the amount of money she would receive from our venture. She helped me into my own bed about midnight. She slept in the guest room.
The alarm from the guest room woke me. I had gotten a good night’s sleep. My satin sheets felt wonderful. Lori was dressed in her nurses uniform when she came into my bedroom. She helped me put on a clean bra. She slid the stump socks over my vestiges of arms. She had me hold my arm stubs up as she slid the sockets down over them. She pressed each arm down firmly to be sure that it was seated properly. When I lowered my arms, they felt just like they had the day before.
“We did it,” I said.
“I cheated,” she replied. “I’ve done it once or twice before.”
I put on my panties and clean jeans. She had to zip them and do the button. I put on a deep V tee shirt with sleeves that came almost to my elbows. I admired my look in the mirror. We stopped and had coffee and doughnuts on the way to the hospital. She let me off at the rehab entrance and then drove around to employee parking. I walked down to my room. I turned on the TV. The big news of the morning was the bank computer crash caused by a hacker. The hacker had accessed the mainframe just as they were beginning to do their backup. The crash of the bank computer had caused several other major computers to crash, including the stock exchange. The financial world was in total chaos. The New York Stock Exchange did not open. The news said that the hacker had been traced as far as an empty hotel room that had been rented by a cute looking girl with glasses.
I had been sitting there watching about fifteen minutes when Ann came in. She made a comment about the hacker and what a terrible person that he must be—probably some weird kid. We started on our day of intensive training.
Lori stopped by after her shift was over. The big computer crash was still the news of the day. I gave her my cash card and PIN number. I told her how much to take out to pay for the passports. She had mailed the hard drive package. I told her not to come down unless it was important and that we shouldn’t be seen together too much. She left, and I was left alone to my contemplation.
The training during the next two weeks was intense. I worked hard and was now able to do most things that I had been able to do before. I saw Lori a couple of times. She had our phony passports and had moved her things to my apartment like we had planned. She was now the occupant of the guest room. Things were coming together.
Graduation from rehab was highlighted by a cake and coffee. At the same time, the nursing staff was having a going-away party for Lori. Dr. Johnson stopped by, as did Dave. While Dave was there, he readjusted the cable on my right hook—the one I used the most. I was able to pack all of my own things in my wheeled suitcase. I took a cab home from the hospital. Lori was waiting for me in the apartment.
I set up the laptop in the office. I had become quite proficient at running a computer with my hooks. I logged on to the Internet and called up my e-mail. I found the one I was looking for from the bank on Grand Cayman Island. There were just two. They both read:
Current account balance 75.
I logged off and went into the kitchen where Lori was preparing supper. “You know we’ve never talked about a split on the stash,” I said.
“I trust you. I know you’re not going to cheat me.”
“I have seventy-five. How about a twenty-five and fifty split?”
“Wow, twenty-five thousand dollars. That sounds more than generous.”
I didn’t correct her. “OK. Let’s call it a deal.” I stuck out my hook, and she shook it.
We ate the dinner that she had prepared. I of course was able now to eat by myself. She was a good cook. We watched TV and went over our checklist. I would pick up our airline tickets to Hawaii—the flight that had the two hour stopover in Denver. Lori had been accumulating the cash and currencies that we would need for our vacation. She already had the passports with the phony names. I had a restless night . . .
In the morning, we showered. She used forearm crutches as she dried us off. She helped me with my bra and arms. I had her help me with my pantyhose. I knew I’d poke holes in them. This would be the last time I’d wear pantyhose in a long time. She fixed my hair. I did my own makeup while she made breakfast. I put on a short black skirt and a nice white blouse. I wore my black heels. I admired my new self in the mirror.
After breakfast, I caught a cab to the office. I had told Barry that I would be in for a little while. When I got there, they had a welcome back get-together for me. Coffee and breakfast croissants. There were several cards and plenty of well wishes. Most of the partners came down to see me. When the party broke up, I went into Barry’s office and closed the door.
“How are you getting along with the connection? I’ve been worried about you.”
“The bank computer crash was the best thing that could have happened to me,” he said. “They were so happy to get most of their money back, they forgot about the missing stuff.”
“Good. I was really worried. I know you didn’t do it, and I hated to see you take the fall for it. Did you ever figure out who did it?”
“Not a clue. I haven’t been able to come up with anything. Whoever did it really must have known what they were doing,” he said. “Now are you ready for this? It was just delivered by courier.” He opened the envelope and passed me the letter.
I held the letter with my right hook while I read it. I looked up at him. He had a huge smile on his face.
“Three million after taxes and attorney fees. I can’t believe it. Barry, that’s wonderful.” I got up and we engaged in a huge hug. “I still can’t believe it.”
“All I need is a signature, and it will be electronically transferred to your bank account.”
“I just hope the computer doesn’t crash again. Get a notary. Where do I sign?”
He buzzed his secretary. She came in to witness my signature. I picked up a pen and carefully wrote my name. “My signature isn’t what it used to be,” I said.
“That’s why the settlement,” he quipped.
I thanked him again and went into my office. I closed the door and logged on to the network. I found the transfer file in the hidden directory and erased it. I called up the history file and erased the reference to the file activity. Any other traces of the activity would disappear when they do the nightly backup. I called up my e-mail. I had received messages from almost everyone in the firm. I typed out a general thank you letter and sent copies to everyone. I typed a letter and printed it. I read it over carefully and signed it. I grasped the letter with a hook and went into Barry’s office. He looked up and smiled when he saw me come in. I held the letter out to him and released my grasp when he took it. His face turned from a smile to a frown.
“Damn it. I just knew you were going to do this,” he said.
“I really don’t need to work anymore. I have enough saved to get by nicely with the settlement. I had plenty of time to think while I was in the hospital. I was damn near killed on the freeway. Life is too short, and I want to experience all of it.”
“Stacy, I really don’t blame you. I would probably do the same thing if I were in your shoes. Tell you what. Why don’t you clean out your desk now, and we’ll pay you for the two weeks that you were going to use for vacation. You can go on vacation and just keep going. I only wish I were going too.”
“Come on, there’s plenty of room for both of us.”
“No. I was just dreaming out loud. I’m a workaholic and would go nuts in fifteen minutes.”
“Well, maybe I will too, but I’m going to give it a try. Hawaii, here I come.”
I went back to my office and cleaned out my desk. I logged on to company e-mail and cleared all my messages. All of the files that I had been working on had already been assigned to someone else while I was in the hospital. I gave Barry my key and company security card. He had a form for me to sign. He was nice enough to carry my box of things down to the cabstand in front of the building. We had a tearful goodbye hug. We told each other that we would get together when I got back. He opened the cab door for me, and I got in the cab. I looked back at him standing there waiving goodbye. I had a hard time keeping from breaking down. He had been a great boss, and we both admired each other a great deal.
I had the cab stop at the travel agency. I picked up the tickets. We were scheduled to leave at six this evening, just as we had planned. The cab took me to the apartment building. The cabby was nice enough to carry my box of belongings up to the apartment. Lori was home and opened the door. I gave the cabby a twenty-dollar tip.
“Guess what? I quit my job today.”
“Why, I thought we were coming back.”
“We can do whatever we want with my three million dollar settlement!” I almost screamed.
She was as excited as I was.
“Another thing, the computer crash got the drug lords off our tail. They were happy to get back what they could. I think we’re in the clear, but let’s not press our luck. I have the tickets. We leave at six just like we planned and stick to the plan.”
The plan was on schedule. I changed into something comfortable and started packing for our trip. The plan was to travel with one carry-on each and buy what we needed when we got there. I packed my wheeled suitcase with mostly my laptop, stump socks, and my favorite bikini. Lori was packing too. She showed me the crutches that Dave had modified for her. They would break down into sections small enough to fit in her carry-on. She had the cash and passports. I made out a check for six months rent and included a note that Lori’s car would be parked in my space and that I was on an extended vacation. Lori called a cab. We both pulled our own suitcases as we went down to the lobby. I dropped the envelope in the manager’s mail slot. The cabby put our suitcases in the trunk for the ride to the airport.
The cab let us off at our airline. We checked in at the gate. When the gate attendant saw my hooks, she said to board early. We waited only a little while for her to call out our flight to Hawaii. We boarded early with only our carry-on luggage. Lori put our bags in the overhead bins. The first leg of the flight landed in Denver. We deplaned with our carry-ons like the rest of the passengers who were getting off.
We went to the Canadian Airline and bought two tickets to Toronto under assumed names. We paid cash for the tickets. We only had a twenty minute wait before the plane took off. The flight was a smooth one, and we landed on time. We cleared Canadian customs easily.
We walked into the lady’s restroom. The handicapped stall was empty. We both went in and closed the door. Lori unbuttoned her blue jeans and pulled them down part way. She rolled the skin covering down on her prosthetic leg and produced the phony passports that she had been carrying between the skin and the inside of her leg. We placed the phony IDs that we’d used to get into Canada in their place before she rolled the skin covering back. The bathroom was empty when we walked out of the toilet stall.
We went to the Caribbean Airlines and purchased tickets for Grand Cayman using the fictitious names on the phony passports. We paid cash in Canadian currency. We waited in a quiet alcove for our flight. We had close to an hour wait. Lori laid my jacket over my hooks so I wouldn’t draw too much attention. The time went by quickly, and soon we were boarding our flight to the Caribbean. This flight would take quite a bit longer so we had purchased first class tickets. If we were being followed, I was sure that we had given them the slip. I read an article on the big mainframe crash in a computer magazine. The only part of their scenario that was correct was that we had logged on from the hotel. Two movies later we were landing on Grand Cayman Island. We had flown south across the United States and Cuba to get there. It felt wonderfully warm when we stepped off the plane. We were questioned very briefly at customs. They examined our phony passports and looked in Lori’s carry-on but not mine.
We caught a cab to our hotel. Our rooms were registered under our names on the phony passports. We stopped in the clothing shop in the lobby of the hotel. We each bought an outfit suitable for performing business transactions and a casual tropical outfit, then went straight to our room. It was a spacious two bedroom suite with a commanding view of the ocean and the street below. Even though the lure of tropical nightlife beckoned, we had decided to sit tight in our room until our business transactions were complete the next day. We changed into our casual clothes. Lori took off her leg and used the sectional crutches. We had a late dinner in the room. Lori helped me take my arms off. We were both excited and didn’t sleep well . . .
The sun had been up for a while when I awoke. Lori was not awake yet. I could see the bank from our hotel window. The street below was quiet. A man across the street was leaning against a tree. When Lori got up, she put on her leg before she helped me put on my arms. We dressed in our new business outfits. We ordered breakfast from room service. Soon there was a knock on the door. Lori looked through the peephole to be sure that it was room service. She opened the door, and a man dressed in a waiter uniform pushed the tray into the room. He looked pretty shifty, and I wasn’t quite sure of him. He served our food and left quickly. We ate our tropical breakfast. I looked at the street again. It was busier now, but the same man was leaning against the tree. The bank was not yet open. The waiting was the toughest part. We both stood on the balcony so that the man could see us.
The bank opened at ten o’clock. The man was still leaning against the tree. We decided that we should go out the back way and come back to the bank from the other direction. We left the room and went to the opposite end of the building through a door leading to a little side street. We walked swiftly down the little side street and came to a well-traveled street. We walked to the cross street and then one more block before we turned back to the main street that ran in front of the hotel. When we came to the main street, we could still see the man leaning against the tree. We waited for a bus to pass and provide cover. We dashed as quickly as Lori could stride on her prosthetic leg to the other side of the street. We stayed close to the building as we made our way to the bank. We could no longer see the tree or the man leaning against it.
We walked into the bank. I spotted the banker who I had worked with before. We walked quickly over to him. I was sure that he recognized me as I introduced myself again. He invited us into a private office and closed the door.
“We need to do a transfer. This is the account number.”
He took the paper that I held with my hook, then turned to the computer and typed in the number. “Your password please.”
“W S Q R B I K S N”
“We show a current balance as 75.”
“That’s correct. I would like to set up two new numbered accounts—one with 50 and the other with 25. Both accounts need to be accessible for electronic transfer online. I would like the old account eliminated.”
“Certainly, I can do that for you,” he said with a smile as he typed into his computer. A printer spit out two pages. “Here are your two new accounts,” he said as he handed me the pages.
I grasped each page with a different hook. I looked at both pages. I passed Lori the one with the twenty-five million figure. I watched her face when she saw the amount.
“You’ve done business with us before, but I want to remind you that the password is the first letter of each word in the sentence at the bottom of the page, in reverse order. Is that clear?”
We both nodded yes.
“I would like to set an investment where you deposit a corporate dividend into my U.S. account on a monthly basis. What is your rate of return?”
“That can be arranged. Currently about twenty percent annually for an account of this size. How large a dividend would you like?”
“Fifteen thousand with the remainder reinvested and rolled over,” I said. I dug in my purse and found my checkbook. I managed to tear off a check and passed it to him.
“And you Miss?” he said as he looked at Lori who was staring at the printout and looked as though she was in shock.
“Ah . . . ah . . . ah yes. Um ten thousand?” she stammered.
“Certainly. Yours is the account with the twenty-five million?”
“Ah . . . ah yes, twenty-five million,” she stammered as she fished for her checkbook. She found it and tore off a check for him.
He leaned back in his chair and said, “You both realize that you will undoubtedly have an IRS audit.”
“I’m not concerned if you can provide the proper documentation to cover it.”
“That’s part of our service. Is there anything else?”
“No, that should do it. Thank you for your time,” I said as I folded my printout and put it in my bag.
“Here is my card. Call me anytime,” he said as he stood up and handed each of us a card. He opened the door to the little room.
We walked to the front door and retraced our steps to the hotel. We went to our room. The man was still leaning against the tree as we both appeared at the window and then went back in the sitting room. Lori hadn’t said much. She looked at her printout again. “I still can’t believe this is happening to me. I thought you said twenty-five thousand?”
“No, you said twenty-five thousand. I just didn’t correct you. The twenty-five million is real. Unless you go off the deep end, you’ll have trouble spending that much dividend each month. Is ten thousand a month better than RN pay?”
“Oh Yes.”
“Remember, I’m still going to pay you double the RN salary.”
“No, I don’t want you to. I won’t accept it. You’ve been more than generous.”
“Commit the account number and password to memory. Don’t forget it.”
“I’m sure that I won’t.”
“Let’s see if that guy really was following us,” I said.
We went to the lobby and had our printouts put in the hotel safe. We walked boldly out the front door and started walking in the opposite direction from the bank, in plain view of the man leaning against the tree. We stepped into a little sidewalk café. A couple of good-looking guys were eyeing us. The man was no longer at the tree. He was walking across the street into the hotel. We hurried back to the hotel. We didn’t see him in the lobby so we went up to our room. The door to our room was slightly ajar. I peeked in and saw the man going through our things. We rushed him. We caught him by surprise and quickly had him pinned up against the wall. I had my hooks on my right arm spread and about an inch from the guy’s eyes when I screamed in his face, “Talk, damn it, unless you want to feel your way around with a cane.”
Hotel security heard the commotion and came rushing into the room.
“We found this guy going through our things. He’s been watching us all morning.”
“This man is one of our local petty thieves. We have had him arrested more times than we can count.”
“Do you want me to dispense justice right here and now?”
“No, I will have him arrested. They will send him to another island this time. I am sure that he will not bother you again. If you have valuables like that computer, put them in the hotel safe,” the hotel security man said as he handcuffed our intruder. He led him away.
When they were out of earshot, I said, “I thought that he was from the drug connection.”
“So did I,” Lori replied. “I was waiting for a gun battle to erupt at anytime.”
“Now that the excitement is over, what do you want to do now?” I asked.
“That’s easy. Shopping, then the beach! We’ll find guys later.”
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