The Ripple Effect

 

THE  RIPPLE  EFFECT

A TALE OF ACHIEVEMENT by strzeka

 

Russell stared at his laptop screen. He had run into writer’s block. More like a granite outcrop. He selected his latest paragraph and hit delete. The story was going nowhere. The lead character was boring. Something interesting needed to happen. How many times had he thought that in the past? He pulled on his wheelchair’s rim, turned himself and rolled to the kitchen to fetch another can of lager. He held the beer carefully in his left hook and pulled the tab open. He jammed the can between his leg braces and returned to stare at the screen.

 

Russell was a new author, although he had always had a way with words and his emails and letters were welcomed by his correspondents. Encouraged by another amateur author, he had embarked half-heartedly on a piece of fiction and was surprised at how much he enjoyed discovering the writing process. New ideas flowed as if from a reservoir of thoughts somewhere inside him. The characters seemed real. They did unexpected things and were surprised by the way their lives developed. Russell wrote in the mornings, from about eight until lunchtime, whenever that was. He ate, dozed for an hour or so and then read through what he had written that morning, noting misspellings and lapses of grammar, recasting sentences and making the text glow, if not shine.

 

He picked up his glass with the hook and slowly poured lager into it. It was useful to have one functioning hand when typing. He had experimented with two hooks but it was a slow and tiring process. He needed to get his ideas down quickly and tidy them later. Typing with hooks was altogether too laborious. Ideas came but were left to evaporate, never to return, as he tapped in a sentence he had thought of two minutes earlier.

 

Now, aged sixty-seven and retired for four years, Russell had found a new interest. He created niche stories about men confronting physical disabilities and thriving despite all odds. He had had encouraging feedback but a recent comment from one reader had caused him to rethink his strategy. Apparently there needed to be more violence and more sex in his writing. Being very much a loner, Russell had encountered little of either phenomenon during his life and was a little nonplussed. It was as if he could not access the vocabulary to describe such things, especially not in a piece of fiction which needed at least a little credibility.

 

Russell rearranged his legs to give his scrotum more room. His legs had been motionless for the past three hours, held firmly by steel and leather braces which he had adopted for daily use as soon as he retired. Before that, he had been able to disable his legs only at weekends. His leg muscles were gradually atrophying. Now he needed a walking stick except inside his home, and sometimes even then. His once muscular legs were now flabby with no muscle tone. They ached when he walked more than a couple of hundred metres and his knees frequently failed to support him reliably when he was standing. There were occasions when he did not want to wear the braces or sit in his wheelchair. His regular hospital visits were one example. He did not want doctors and other staff asking about his obvious disability. He had acquired his orthotics through private means but there was no mention of any disability on his medical records. But he wore leg braces and carried a stick when visiting his ophthalmologist. Russell was slowly going blind, his sight spoiled by macular degeneration and glaucoma. He could see well enough to type but reading was no longer a pleasure. Everything he saw was distorted and the distortions flowed like in a kaleidoscope as he moved his gaze. He was accustomed to it. Russell often wore an eyepatch to cut the distortion from one eye. He had been told he looked dashing with a leather eyepatch and he owned several different designs.

 

Out of the blue, as usual, a new slant occurred to him for his story. The main character could be attacked and laid low by unknown perpetrators. And then he would have achieved one of his life’s main aims. It was a good idea and Russell wanted to go with the flow. He undid the velcro straps which held his prosthetic arm and shrugged off the harness. He threw the prosthesis onto his easy chair and continued typing rapidly with both hands. One paragraph led to another and half an hour later he had written an extra thousand words with the future of the lead character clearly mapped. He looked at his immobile legs and wished his own future could be like that. He engaged the drop locks and stood up from the wheelchair. He grabbed his walking stick and rocked back to the kitchen on his rigid callipers to start making himself lunch.

 

Sated, he drank the last of his beer and collapsed into his easy chair. The arm was now on the floor beside him. Maybe he would don it again later, after a sleep. He dreamed of a gang of youths who slashed his character with a machete, severing the left hand and running off with it. The character became him. He was suddenly out of the hospital and walking along the street with a genuine prosthesis instead of the pretender hook he loved to wear. He had been seen several times wearing the hook by his neighbours who paid it no notice. Russell could not understand their attitude. Seeing another man wearing a hook would set his mind into overdrive and he would fantasise about the sighting for weeks and squirrel the memory away for decades. He remembered that he no longer had decades. If he ever wanted to be an amputee, now was the time. How could he make real the plot twist he had envisioned for his character? Who would chop his hand off and run off with it?

 

Before he continued with his writing, he decided to get another six pack of beer. There was a shop nearby and there was usually a group of old men or teenagers hanging about outside, swigging the cheapest lager. Russell forced his way into the supermarket through a group of immigrants who watched him walking on his rigid legs. Russell ensured that his steel braces were always visible. He deliberately wore his trousers short so that at least ten centimetres of steel bracing was visible at all times. Russell bought another pack of lager and left the shop. The gang was still outside and a couple of older members glared at him. He had to force his way through them again and they did not appreciate being jostled.

            – Do any of you want to earn a hundred euros?

The swarthy youths looked at each other and exchanged a few words in a guttural language.

            – What do you want?

            – Does anyone have a knife? A big one, like a machete?

More conversation.

            – I have a machete. What do you want, old man? Why are you asking?

            – Good. Come over here and I will tell you.

Russell and the youth walked some distance away from the other youngsters and Russell explained.

            – I want you to cut my hand off. I want you to pick it up and run away with it or the doctors will try to sew it back on.

            – Haha! You are mad, old man.

            – Yes. Do you want a hundred euros or not?

            – I will do it for two hundred euros. When?

            – This evening, after dark. On the school football field.

            – Just here?

            – Yes.

            – OK. What time?

            – Eight o’clock. I will be in the middle of the field where it is dark. I will hold a two hundred euro note in my hand. You will chop my hand off – about here – and take the hand and the money and run. I never want to see you again. Do you understand?

            – You are mad. I will take your hand off for two hundred euros.

            – Throw the hand away. Throw it into the pond. There is a pond behind the trees.

            – I know. Be there, old man, or the next time we meet, I will cut you.

            – I’ll be there. Eight o’clock.

 

Russell went home and planned what he was going to need for a few weeks in hospital. His phone charger, at least. His wallet and keys. He removed his leg braces, dressed in black and tried to think of something which he might use as a temporary tourniquet. His imagined scenario was that he was returning from an evening stroll around the block when he was attacked by a single assailant with a large knife. The lack of details he would provide the police could easily be explained by his poor eyesight, which the police would certainly be able to ascertain from his medical records. But what could he use as a tourniquet which he might credibly have with him in his jacket pocket on a perfectly ordinary stroll? He could think only of a necktie. But he could not remember the last occasion when he had actually worn such a thing. He could say that he had always carried one in case he needed to appear smart when entering a fine restaurant, for example.

 

At ten minutes to eight, Russell emptied his refrigerator of perishable products and took the refuse to the recycling bin. He checked he had everything and that his phone was easily accessible. He taped the two hundred euro banknote to the palm of his left hand with double-sided tape, checked that everything electrical was disconnected and ensured that the front door was properly locked. He walked slowly across the street to the adjacent sports field, used by the school for gymnastics and volleyball and the like. It was a sandy surface, covered in footprints leading in every direction. Russell knew from experience that the centre of the field was almost completely invisible from the road after dusk. No-one would see what was about to happen. He stood in the middle of the sports field and listened.

 

Footsteps approached from the trees. The sound of a man trying to walk stealthily. Seconds later, the young assailant spoke.

            – Do you have the money?

            – Yes. It’s in my hand.

            – Show me.

Russell held out his left arm, holding it with his right. His left shoulder joint was stiff and this was the only way he could raise it. The assailant struck with admirable force and accuracy, severing Russell’s right hand at the wrist and the left hand mid-forearm. The assailant picked up the hands and ran back towards the woods and the fetid pond just beyond it. Russell could see his plan to lose an arm had gone awry. And how the hell was he going to call for an ambulance? Beginning to panic, he twirled around trying to decide where to seek help. There would be dog-walkers on the far side of the sports field. Locals called it Shit Alley because of the eternal dog turds. Russell staggered towards it, towards the light. A woman walking a spaniel spotted the staggering figure first.

            – Help! I’ve been attacked! Call an ambulance!

            – Christ almighty what’s happened?

            – Quick! There’s a necktie in my top pocket. Use it as a tourniquet. And call for an ambulance.

The woman stood on her dog’s leash and fumbled for her phone.

            – I need an ambulance immediately to Stamford School playing field, south side. A man has had his hands severed.

An ambulance was on its way. The woman stepped forward to find the necktie and wrapped it around Russell’s upper left arm. She looked at the other arm and pinched it halfway down the forearm. Her dog had escaped and was tearing around the sports field dragging its leash.

            – Tell me if you feel faint. Should we sit down? I don’t know what to do!

            – No, I’m ok. Is the ambulance coming?

            – Yes. They shouldn’t be long. What happened?

            – I don’t know. I was just walking across the field and before I knew what was happening, I was attacked. I don’t understand. I was only out for a walk.

            – Maybe I should call the police.

            – Don’t bother. The ambulancemen will do that.

            – Are you in pain?

            – Yes, but not as much as you’d think. Oh, this looks terrible.

            – Keep your arms up. It will help stop the blood loss. I can hear an ambulance.

There was a siren in the distance, quickly becoming louder. Its flashing lights became visible and then it pulled up beside them. The spaniel ran back to see what was happening.

 

The woman explained what had taken place, as far as she could tell, gave her name and phone number and said she would help in any way she could. Russell was taken to the ambulance where tourniquets were applied and he was given a shot of painkiller. His thoughts were still confused and he was in shock but he understood well enough that he would be leaving hospital wearing two hooks, not one. It was his ideal. It had been since he first saw a bilateral hook user as a young man. A chap maybe ten years his senior, smartly dressed and carrying a briefcase, sat down opposite him on an underground train. The man opened his case, withdrew a paperback and held it in a hook to read. Russell had never seen anything more fascinating, more desirable, in his young life. He hoped that one day he could emulate the young man with his own hooks. Now, fifty years later, neither of them were young but Russell would finally get his own hooks. The painkillers were making him dozy and he fell asleep.

 

He woke two days later to see both his arms bandaged. After reorientating himself, he remembered where he was and what had happened. A nurse noticed he was awake and bathed his face. She alerted a doctor.

            – Well now, Mr Barton. I see you’re with us again. I’m happy to tell you you’re making a good recovery so far. I’m afraid the police want a word with you but we can put them off for another day or two.

            – I see. I have lost both hands, is that right? Nothing left?

            – That is correct, I’m afraid. But I’m sure you’ll manage with prosthetics.

            – Like hooks, you mean?

            – Yes, hooks are a good option. Then there are bionic hands but they tend to be expensive and we don’t supply them. But you will have a functioning pair of hooks and will be able to do a lot of things so don’t worry about that just yet.

            – How long will I need to be here?

            – I want to be sure that your stumps are healed well enough for you to continue care at home. Two weeks or so. Is there someone at home who can look after you?

            – Well, no. I never married or had a partner.

            – I see. I can arrange for a carer to call in for half an hour every day but otherwise you may have problems.

Russell thought about his pretender prosthetic arms. Maybe he could use those until he had a custom-made pair. He did not see any reason why they should not be serviceable.

 

The time dragged by. Russell lost his reluctance at being fed and assisted in the bathroom. He would soon be out of the hospital. His stumps healed well. The right stump was considerably longer than the left, which was shorter than he would have liked but still suitable for wearing a hook. Seventeen days after his arrival, he was discharged with a reminder to take it easy and to be careful not to put pressure on the stumps. An ambulance took him home and the driver kindly opened his door for him. He was on his own.

 

He sat down and looked at his leg braces standing against the wall. He would have liked to put them on. His legs were even weaker now after having spent over two weeks in bed. He had also lost weight. He decided to try his pretender arms. He carefully arranged them on his kitchen table and decided that he would try the right arm first. He pushed two pairs of winter socks into the socket to cushion his stump and tentatively inserted his long stump. It pushed the socks further into the bottom of the socket. They were touching his bandaged stump but it was not uncomfortable. He carefully swung the tension loop behind his back and, after several attempts, succeeded in placing his left stump through the loop and shrugging the harness into place across his back. He could sense that pushing the socket forward with his stump would cause discomfort, so he would have to rely on shoulder movement to operate the hook. He pushed his left shoulder forward, opening the hook. Ha! He might not be as helpless as predicted after all. He walked into the hallway to admire his new appearance in the full-length mirror. His beard needed trimming and shaping but he was pleased to see his solitary prosthesis and the arm stump. He realised that the other pretender arm would not work on his left arm any longer. His arm would tend to slip down the socket too far and its rim would chafe against his upper arm.

 

He went back to the living room and sat in his wheelchair. He could move around his home by dragging it along with his feet. He needed to raise the footplates. In future, a wheelchair operated by levers might be more appropriate. His hooks would never be able to grasp the push rims. He stood up again and went into the kitchen. There was no food in the fridge. There were cans of soup and tuna in the cupboard but he felt it unlikely that he would be able to open them. He thought for a moment. Maybe the teenage boy who had just moved in across the hall with his Estonian parents might like to earn himself some extra pocket money by running errands. He had said Hi to the boy and introduced himself as their neighbour soon after they moved in. He had seen their furniture during the move and judged that they were not an affluent family. The furniture looked worn and second hand, mismatched and unfashionable. He made a few attempts to open his door, steel on slippery steel, and walked across the hallway. He pressed the doorbell and the teenager open the door.

            – Hi! Just the man I am looking for. How are you? Can you spare a couple of minutes?

            – Yeah, what?

Russell lifted his hook and the teenager’s eyes widened.

            – I have been injured and I need some help. I wondered if you would like to earn a little extra cash. If you could do some shopping and easy things like washing up or filling my washing machine.

            – I don’t know how to work a washing machine.

            – Oh, that’s alright. I can explain it and you’ll be learning something useful. Would you like to come and help me? I can pay you, er, shall we say fifteen euros an hour? Tax-free, of course!

The teenager’s frown disappeared for a moment.

            – You would pay me to do your washing up?

            – Yes. Not just that, though. It would be nice if you could vacuum my floor once a week and do the things that I can’t do. I mean, imagine if you had just one hook. What would you be able to do? Well, I need help with everything else. Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to wipe my arse.

            – You are a funny man. I will ask my father.

            – OK. But can you ask him soon, because I have no food and I hope you can go to the shop for me this evening. I am getting hungry.

            – Alright, I will. I’ll ring your doorbell if dad says it’s OK.

 

There was a knock on the door at seven. The young man, Jüri, stood there with his father who wished Russell a good evening and immediately took in Russell’s new disability.

            – Jüri says you need some help and will pay. Is that right?

            – Yes. I need someone to do some shopping and a bit of cleaning. It will only be for a few weeks, maybe a couple of months until I get new arms. If Jüri could come in for a few minutes every morning before he goes to school and then for half an hour after he gets home, I would be very grateful.

            – Mida sa arvad? Kas sa saaksid seda teha?

            – Jaa.

            – OK, my boy says he can do it. Do you want some help now?

            – Yes please. I need some food from the shop. Can you come in, Jüri, and I will make you a list of things to buy. Thank you, Mr Saar. Your boy is safe with me.

            – OK. See you.

Jüri stepped into Russell’s small apartment and looked around at the modern stylish furniture. Steel and black leather.

            – This is nice.

            – Thank you. Can you write down what I need from the shop?

Jüri found a pen and Russell dictated what he could manipulate with a hook and a tender stump. Bread, pre-sliced cheese, sausage meat. A six pack of beer. He took a fifty from between the pages of a book where he hid his cash and handed it to Jüri.

            – I’ll be back in a while.

            – Yes. Good lad.

Jüri found the products Russell had asked for. Shopping was a new experience for him. His mum always bought everything. It felt funny to be the one who was doing the work and finding stuff. It was quite good fun. He saw lots of things he’d never seen before. Suddenly he realised that he had spent far too much time just looking at things and the old man would want his groceries. He went to the checkout and felt very fine when he handed over a fifty, which the cashier inspected closely before accepting it. He packed the stuff into a paper bag and worked his way through the throng of uzbeks or whatever who were clogging the exit. He already knew their game was pickpocketing but his, or Russell’s, change was safe deep in a trouser pocket. They glared at him. Jüri knew from what his father had told him about ‘before’ that they had once all lived in the same country and been compatriots. Jüri cleared his throat and spat a gob of phlegm into the gutter at the thought.

 

Russell opened the door after scrambling with the slippery hook and Jüri stepped inside.

            – Can you put them in the cupboards for me please, Jüri. Thanks a lot. I can’t really do it.

            – What can you do with your hook? What’s it like?

            – Well, it’s difficult to explain. I can pinch things and poke things and I’m not very good at that yet.

Russell remember that he had a left pretender prosthesis and hook hanging on the wall of his bedroom.

            – If you want, I think you could try wearing a hook yourself.

            – What?

            – Wait a moment.

Russell fetched the other prosthetic arm.

            – This might fit you if you want to try it out. I think it will.

Jüri took hold of it and inspected it closely.

            – What do I do?

            – Put your arm through the loop. Now put your left arm into the socket, the black thing. Here, let me help.

Jüri struggled into the socket and looked at the hook in amazement. The socket was just the right length for the lanky teenager’s arm. He looked at Russell questioningly.

            – Haha! Don’t be so shocked. It’s easy. Push your arm forward a bit.

The hook opened. Jüri was surprised and pulled his arm back.

            – That’s the way you use the hook. Push and it opens, relax and it closes.

            – It feels, I don’t know, it feels so good.

            – There’s another way to open the hook too. Hold your arm up. Now push your right shoulder forward but don’t move the hook.

The hook opened. Jüri tried a few times more. The hook opened and clicked closed.

            – This is fun!

            – Yes, it is. But you can take your hand out. I can’t do that any more.

            – I’m sorry. I’ll help you out. How do I get this off? Can I wear it again tomorrow?

            – Of course you can. It’s no good to me. My stump is too short.

            –Cool.

Russell helped Jüri out of the prosthesis and handed him a twenty euro note.

            – See you tomorrow morning? Just a few minutes before you leave for school?

            – OK. See you.

Jüri left and Russell soon heard the door opposite his own slam.

 

At seven forty the next morning, Jüri knocked. Russell let him in and asked him first if he would mind brushing Russell’s teeth.

            – I can’t get the toothpaste out.

It was soon done.

            – Next, will you open all the packets of cheese and sausage you bought yesterday? I’ll never get them open with one hook.

            – Shall I come again after I get back from school?

            – Yes please, Jüri. I’m sure there will be something or other I need help with and you can wear the other hook again if you want to.

            – How much do hooks cost?

            – I don’t really know. A couple of thousand, I expect.

            – And you need two of them.

            – Yup. It’s alright though, I don’t mind. It’s my legs which are the problem now. I should be wearing my leg braces.

            – But you can’t get them on, right?

            – Right. I’d ask you to put them on my legs but aren’t you going to be late for school?

            – We start at eight thirty. We have some time. Show me what you want me to do.

            – Come into my bedroom and I can lie on the bed. It’ll be easier.

Russell pointed at his callipers with the hook and explained how he put them on. Jüri lifted them onto the bed and Russell arranged his feet into the boots and his legs into the braces.

            – Now all you need to do is tighten the buckles. Tight as you can.

It took three or four minutes. Jüri studied the steel struts and the knee mechanisms. Russell made sure the locks were disengaged and stood up.

            – Thanks very much. I’m ready for the day now. I’ll see you this afternoon. Have a good day.

            – Alright. See you later.

Jüri let himself out and Russell sat down in his wheelchair. The leg braces made it impossible for him to scoot around using his feet. He would have to wait for his custom hooks before he attempted pushing himself around. His stumps would not take the pressure yet.

 

He had another visitor at ten. A guy in his late twenties, clean shaven, short hair. Russell thought he might be a mormon.

            – Good morning. I see I am at the right address. My name is Ira. I’m your district nurse. May I come in?

            – Yes, of course. Come in. I wasn’t expecting you.

            – Really? Haven’t you had a message informing you? That’s odd. Anyway, here I am. I’d like to take a look at your arms first and change the bandages. Shall we sit somewhere? I see you already have a prosthesis. Where did you get that from?

            – It’s a theatrical prop. One of my friends had them after they were used in some production and brought them round for me to try. I can wear this one but my left stump is too short to wear the other one.

            – And can you use it?

            – Yes, sort of.

            – Do be careful about straining the sutures. Can you take it off and I’ll inspect your stumps.

Russell shrugged the prosthesis off.

            – Good. Now hold your arm out and we can get started.

Russell soon had a fresh dressing. His stumps were pronounced satisfactory.

            – How are you managing here at home?

            – Not too badly, all things considered. I asked the young lad next door if he’d like to earn a few euros by helping out. He was here this morning to help me put my leg braces on and will drop in again this evening when he gets back from school. He did some shopping for me yesterday.

            – It’s good you have someone to help out. I can also bring you some shopping. If you give me a list of what you need, you’ll have the items the next day.

            – Will you be visiting every day?

            – Yes, including weekends. If not me, then one of my colleagues. I’m surprised you haven’t had this explained to you. Do you want your prosthesis again?

            – Yes please.

Russell inserted his left stump through the harness loop and pushed his right stump into the socket while Ira held it. He shrugged his shoulder to check the hook. It opened.

            – All set and ready.

            – You know, you really shouldn’t have a prosthesis yet but since you do and it doesn’t seem to be doing you any harm, I don’t see why you shouldn’t continue using it. Is there anything you’d like some help with before I go?

            – Would you make a pot of coffee? I have trouble doing it with just the one hook.

            – OK, show me where you keep the things.

They went to the kitchen and soon they were enjoying a brew. Ira rinsed the cups and took his leave.

 

Russell managed to fill his time. He read and typed a few brief emails, watched a few of his DVDs. The days fell into a regular rhythm. Jüri dropped in for a few minutes each morning before school. Ira arrived between ten and eleven and Jüri spent an hour of so with Russell in the evening never failing to wear the left prosthesis for at least some of the time. He was turning into a pretender, maybe a devotee. He might even like to buy the artificial arm for himself. Russell would suggest it one evening.

 

A notice arrived from the hospital that it was time to review his progress and start the process of manufacturing a pair of arm prostheses. Ira accompanied him to the hospital and he met his prosthetist, Richard Wanley, for the first time. Russell had left his pretender prosthesis at home and felt naked wearing only his shrinker socks. Richard was satisfied with how Russell’s stumps had healed. He made another appointment for the following week when he would cast the stumps in order to start manufacture. They discussed various options available for the new arms. Russell selected two pairs of the most commonly used hooks and requested that the sockets envelop his elbows. The design would protect his arms somewhat if he should fall, although they forced his artificial arms to bend forward in a somewhat unnatural position. Russell chose to forego articulation wrists. The fewer mechanical complications, the easier the hooks were to use and the less there was to go wrong. Ira took Russell back to his flat and he made some elevenses before leaving to visit his next client.

 

Russell was becoming impatient to get his new hooks. He would have to wait at least two weeks after the moulds had been made. He might ask Wanley to give them priority, being more severely inconvenienced as a bilateral amputee. Other patients would probably still have one functioning hand.

 

Russell began to look forward to seeing Jüri every afternoon. The boy was quite comfortable around him now. Their age difference hardly mattered. They shared a similar sense of humour as well as the fetishist fascination for prosthetic arms and hooks. Jüri was becoming quite adept at using his artificial arm and now donned it without asking as soon as he arrived. He wore it around Russell’s flat while he did the minor chores which Russell requested. Russell was expecting Jüri to ask if he could borrow it to show his friends or wear to the shopping mall. He knew the request would eventually come.

 

Russell now wore his leg braces almost permanently. He showered twice a week and asked Jüri to help fit them. He wore them to bed, boots and all. He kept the knee locks engaged whenever possible. Imperceptibly, his knees and ankles deteriorated and his muscles weakened. The day would come when Russell actually needed his callipers rather than merely wanting them. He sat in his wheelchair quite often. His current model would not be suitable after he got his hooks. He looked into acquiring a chair operated by levers. He liked the idea of pumping himself along with two artificial arms, his hooks inserted through adaptor rings mounted on each lever.

 

He received the message he had been waiting for. His prostheses were ready. He was invited for a fitting the next day at nine. It was a little too early for Ira to take him. He could ask him later if he could change his timetable, otherwise he would have to go by taxi. He did not feel up to tackling the journey on public transport wielding only his naked stumps. He messaged Ira with his request and received an affirmative reply soon after. He felt that he was on the home stretch. It was one of the last times he would be so completely reliant on his helper.

 

Russell was waiting by the street door when Ira pulled up. He walked over to the car and sat inside. Ira fixed his safety belt and they departed for the hospital. Richard Wanley was waiting for Russell in the lobby and shook hands with Ira, who quickly departed to continue his rounds. Wanley and Russell went to the rehab department, where Russell was immensely pleased to see a smart pair of black carbon arms waiting for him. Wanley helped remove Russell’s jacket and shirt and placed a stump sock on each of Russell’s arms. The new harness attached to the arms in an unfamiliar way. Wanley helped Russell don the arms and fussed about with the tension of the harness.

            – Stretch your arms to see if you can open the hooks.

Russell did so. They opened smoothly and effortlessly and closed with a pleasant metallic sound. Russell thought that they might need an extra rubber band for a stronger grip. He would ask Wanley to give him four bands per hook. That should be enough.

            Now pull your left shoulder forward. You see how the right hook opens?

Wanley continued with his superfluous instructions for a few minutes and Russell did all that he was asked. Russell was given a set of children’s wooden blocks to practise his dexterity with. That was easy enough. He asked if Wanley could show him how to pick up a knife and fork. Wanley was a little surprised but fetched some cutlery and suggested a few tips. Russell asked about buttons and buckles and was told that practice makes perfect. Finally Russell asked if Wanley would be so kind as to add additional rubber bands to all his four new hooks.

            – Good thing you reminded me. You get to take this applicator and packet of bands with you. And I’ll get you some stump socks too. Just a moment.

He returned with the goods in a small plastic bag.

            – I think you’re doing very well, Mr Barton. Do give me a call if there’s anything I can help you with or if you find the sockets to be too loose or uncomfortable.

            – Thank you very much, Dr Wanley. I’m very pleased with the new arms. I’m sure they’ll make life a lot easier.

            – I hope so. That’s what they’re for, after all.

They shook hands and Russell dressed. Wanley did up the buttons on his shirt front. Russell left and went home by taxi.

 

It was much better to have prostheses on both stumps. Russell was immediately able to make himself a pot of tea and the shorter sockets let him bring his mug to his lips much more easily. He stripped his bed and laundered the sheets. It was difficult to hang them up to dry. Stretching his arms opened the hooks, as intended, but the sheets were finally hung, somewhat untidily.

 

Jüri knocked soon after school hours ended. Russell let him in and held up his new hooks for inspection.

            – Oh! You got them. Great! Do you think I could try wearing both arms now?

            – I guessed you might ask that. Of course you can. You’ll have to take the right arm off one harness and add it to the other one. I’ll show you how to do it. Go and get the old hooks. They’re in my bedroom. Bring them into the kitchen.

Russell explained how to transfer the right prosthesis onto the bilateral harness. It was a matter of adjusting a strap to the suitable length and intricately threading it through a buckle. Jüri lifted the harness up by its central ring and the sockets clacked together.

            – Now all you need to do is put your arms through the harness loops and wriggle into the sockets. I’ll tighten the cuffs if I can.

Jüri shrugged the harness to settle it comfortably across his shoulders. He held the hooks up and looked at them in awe. He walked into the hallway to study himself in the tall mirror. Russell saw that the boy had a sizeable erection. It was understandable.

            – Do you like what you see, Jüri? How do they feel?

            – I wish I could wear them always. I wish I could have a real pair.

            – You mean lose your hands and replace them with hooks?

            – Yeah. I’m sorry if that sounds bad.

            – No, not at all. I understand perfectly. I have been an admirer of hooks all my life but I never imagined that I would also wear them one day. I know the feeling. You’re lucky that you have the pretender arms to play with.

            – What are you going to do with them now you have a real pair?

            – I don’t know. Haven’t thought about it. Sell them, I suppose. Put them on eBay or something. I might get a couple of thousand for them.

            – Could I buy them?

            – You could, if you can afford them. I can’t just give them to you, I’m afraid. They cost a lot of money.

            – I know. Can you keep them for a while? Don’t sell them yet. I’d like to learn to use them better.

            – Alright, I won’t sell them yet. If you want to learn, you can start right now. Let’s see if you can make us a cup of tea.

            – Haven’t you got any jobs for me this evening?

            – Nope. I already did them. Having two hooks is almost as good as having two hands again.

            – Wow. So do you still want me to come here every day?

            – Do you want to?

            – Yes, I like helping. And I like having some pocket money.

            – And you like wearing the arms too, don’t you?

            – Yeah.

            – Alright. This is what we’ll do. You can call in every morning to brush my teeth and fit my leg braces and I’ll still pay you something for that help. But I don’t think I’ll need help in the afternoons any longer, so you don’t need to call in when you get home from school. But if you want to come in to wear the arms, you can. How does that sound?

            – That would be cool. Let’s do that.

            – Good. How’s that tea?

            – Almost ready.

 

Jüri made it a habit. He spent a quarter of an hour with Russell in the mornings before school, usually helping him don the leg braces. Later in the day, he spent about an hour wearing the pretender arms. The two bilateral hook users often ate something together, sandwiches or a piece of cake with a mug of tea. Jüri became quite skilful at using the hooks. Russell watched him become accustomed to wearing them. At first, Jüri had been in awe of them and was fascinated by their operation. Now he was impatient to don them and then he carried on as usual, reliant on his hooks in the same way that Russell was.

 

Jüri celebrated his fifteenth birthday. His parents allowed him to go with a friend’s family to their summer cottage for a weekend. At the beginning of the season, there was a good deal of yard work to be done and firewood to be chopped. Many hands make light work and the family was happy to have Jüri along to help out. After a two hour drive, they arrived and started work almost immediately. The mother and older sister set about airing the house and making some lunch, the two lads helped the father carry large logs which had been felled the previous autumn and needed splitting into firewood. The father used a chainsaw to fashion the logs into a usable size. Halfway through the work, his wife called them in for coffee.

            – We’ll come in in a minute, dad.

            – OK.

He went inside. Jüri looked at the chainsaw and set it on the upturned end of one of the freshly cut logs. He pulled the cord to start the saw and put his right arm into it. His hand and lower forearm flew off and Jüri gripped his stump. His friend turned and stared at the surreal scene. Jüri looked surprised but not shocked. The father rushed out to see who was playing with the chainsaw and stopped short when he saw that his young guest had been severely injured. He turned and ran back inside to call an ambulance.

            – Jüri’s been hurt. Don’t go out there! I said don’t! Come back here. Yes hello, I need an ambulance immediately to this address. An accident with a chainsaw.

 

No-one looked for the severed hand. It had landed in a small bank of nettles. The blood spattered on the leaves was dark and did not resemble blood. The ambulance arrived after forty minutes. Jüri was sitting on a log still squeezing his stump with his friend sitting next to him with an arm around his neck. The father gave a brief explanation of what he understood to have happened. He was asked if the hand had been found and said No. The medics judged that so much time had passed that the most pressing thing was to get the boy to surgery. The hand could be sought later.

 

Jüri’s stump was tidied and closed. His distraught parents arrived to see him, still sleeping. They were assured that their son was in good hands and making a fine recovery. They left and returned home.

 

The hand was found that evening by a vixen which was initially wary of the human scent. She determined the meat was safe and returned to her den with it where it fed four hungry pups.

 

Russell wondered where Jüri was the next morning when he did not call in. He could manage well enough now without outside help and fortunately, last night was one of the occasions when he had slept without removing his callipers. It was another two days before Russell heard what had happened. He noticed the Saar parents returning from a hospital visit and opened his door to ask them about Jüri’s whereabouts. Mr Saar explained curtly. Mrs Saar glimpsed Russell’s hooks and averted her eyes in distress. Russell asked if they would object if he paid Jüri a visit. They had no objection.

 

He waited two days before deciding to go. He worried about whether Jüri would admit to wearing pretender arms every day for at least the past two months and therefore some blame would be on Russell’s shoulders. But it was probably an accident with a chainsaw, if what Mr Saar had briefly described was true. Russell could have no responsibility for anything like that. The thoughts tumbled back and forth. The one saving grace was that Jüri and Russell had never discussed voluntary amputation although Russell knew that Jüri had developed some kind of an obsession with the hooks which he wordlessly encouraged by allowing it to continue. If he heard from Jüri himself what had happened, he would find out either the truth or the story Jüri had concocted as an explanation.

 

            – Hello Jüri. You’ve got yourself into a bit of a pickle, haven’t you? I heard from your dad. He said it would be OK to pay you a visit so here I am. How are you doing?

            – I’m OK. I’m glad you came. Sit down if you want.

Russell sat and looked at the heavily bandaged stump. It looked like Jüri still had half his right forearm.

            – What happened? Can you talk about it?

Jüri looked around furtively and whispered.

            – I cut my hand off with a chainsaw.

            – I was worried you’d do something like this. Have you told anyone?

            – No, of course not. Everyone thinks it was an accident. I don’t want people to think I’m mad or something.

            – OK, good. Let’s keep it that way.

They stopped whispering.

            – So how are you feeling? Does it hurt?

            – Just a bit. It’s alright. It’s getting better. The doctor said it’s healing well.

            – You’re going to have a pretty good stump for using a prosthesis with.

            – I know. But I’m going to have to wait a while before I have my own hook.

            – Couple of months, I suppose. Maybe not that long. You’re young and will probably mend faster than I did. Plus they’ll want to get you back into school as quickly as possible.

            – If they take their time, it’ll be the summer holidays by the time I’m ready.

            – I wish it wasn’t your right hand.

            – It’ll be OK.

Jüri whispered again.

            – I was right-handed but I always wanted to be right-hooked.

Russell looked at him in surprise.

            – What do you mean ‘always’? You wanted a hook before you met me?

            – Yeah. For years and years.

            – Jesus. There’s more to you than meets the eye. Well, is there anything I can bring you next time? Books, a game or something?

            – No, they have all that kind of stuff here already.

            – Just let me know if there’s something you want.

            – Can you bring the left arm in next time?

            – No, I can’t!

Jüri grinned at Russell and they both chuckled. Russell shook his head.

            – I’m going to leave you to it. I’m glad you’re doing OK.

            – Are you managing OK at home?

            – Yes. But I miss you. Get well soon, Jüri. I’ll call in again later.

            – Bye.

 

Russell slowly walked the two miles back to his home. He was relieved that the incident was being chalked up to misadventure, an accident. He was most surprised to learn that Jüri had been a wannabe far longer than he had suspected. The boy had always had the urge to become an amputee. Although it was quite possible that Russell’s permissiveness had finally persuaded Jüri to act on his impulse. It was useless to continue speculating. The main thing now was to get Jüri home and accustomed to using a hook for real. What a fool to have mutilated his right arm.

 

Jüri was home with his angry father and distraught mother after three weeks. He had already been casted for a prosthesis and had chosen a standard hook attachment and an artificial hand with a cosmetic glove. Its index and middle fingers moved to pinch against the thumb but the hand was fairly impractical. He could wear it when the sight of his steel hook would be too distracting.

 

His parents saw how quickly Jüri learned to use the hook. There were a few things he had difficulties with but he almost never asked for help. He found an alternate way of doing what he wanted. He practised writing with the hook and his left hand. The hook became his preferred method. He stopped visiting Russell regularly but would sometimes pay a visit early in the evening for an hour or so.

 

Jüri was not successful in his attempt to miss the end of the spring term at school. He returned for the last three weeks and caught up with his coursework with the help of some concerned teachers. His classmates were agog at his hook and the shiny black socket. It was, they decided, very cool. Jüri carried the fake hand with him in his bag, just in case. On the last day of school before the long holiday, he wore the hand when he and some of his classmates visited a pub for a couple of shandies. None of the other customers noticed anything out of the ordinary.

 

– – – – – -

 

Russell became more reliant on his wheelchair. He decided to invest in the lever-operated model and sold his existing chair on eBay to another amputee. The buyer came to collect it. He walked on crutches. He was a bilateral above-knee amputee and found Russell’s old chair to be eminently suitable. He departed sitting in it, his crutches tied to the back with strips of velcro. Russell’s new model gave him a great deal of pleasure. Operating the levers with his hooks was a good physical work-out and he enjoyed the attention he attracted when out in public.

 

Jüri graduated from sixth form college and prepared to leave for a three year physics course at the university of Tartu in Estonia. He had received a stipend after much behind-the-scenes pulling of strings by his headmaster who was impressed by the boy’s tenacity for both his studies and for overcoming his disability with such good humour. Jüri explained to Russell one evening how he intended to have a good look at life in Estonia with a view to perhaps settling there. Having dual nationality, he would be able to remain there for as long as he wished. At the end of August, he said farewell and left to begin his studies on the other side of Europe.

 

He fared well and was a popular student, distinctive with his steel hook and easy-going nature. He made many friends among the international crowd at the prestigious university, including a Russian-speaking medical student from Latvia called Fedya. Fedya revealed himself to be a devotee and wannabe and intended to become a surgeon. The pair of them frequently spent time in Jüri’s rooms watching videos of amputees, discussing and admiring their stumps and prosthetic limbs. Fedya was infatuated with Jüri’s arm stump. It was the perfect shape. He suggested that Jüri might one day like to have its matching twin on the left. Jüri was familiar with the idea of losing both hands. Russell was a good example of how a man could overcome such a situation but Jüri preferred not to interrupt his studies with an elective amputation mid-year. Fedya promised to arrange an amputation any time Jüri gave the word and always reminded him at every meeting. It soon seemed that the pair of them were simply waiting for an opportune moment to go ahead with Jüri’s second amputation. The idea that it would not take place was no longer an option. 

 

Jüri returned home after his first year. His parents were pleased to hear his much improved Estonian and were impressed with his new worldliness as well as his handsome blond beard. He called in to visit Russell one evening.

 

            – Good to see you, Jüri. How’re things in Estonia?

            – Fine. I have a nice flat in the town centre – actually, three of us share it – and the uni is just down the road. I’ve had good grades on my coursework which is a relief and I’ve made a lot of friends from all over.

            – Well, it sounds like you’re enjoying yourself. I’m happy to hear it. Have you had any more thoughts about… you know.

            – Yes, I have a plan. The trouble is there, on the other side of that wall.

            – Your parents, you mean? Why? What are you planning?

            – I want my left arm off. One of my friends is training to be a surgeon and he insists he can arrange it so that everything appears to be above board and official so I’ll be eligible for state aid for prosthetics and so on.

            – So your friend will amputate? Isn’t that a bit risky?

            – It’s only an amputation, Russell. It’s not difficult. The trouble is, I can’t decide if I want a matching stump or if I want it off above the elbow so I can use a full-length prosthesis. I like the idea of a completely prosthetic arm, from shoulder to hook, but it would mean I’d have mismatched stumps and that sort of niggles at me.

            – I know what you mean.

Russell lifted his sockets.

            – This looks great like this – two hooks, identical sockets. But when my arms are bare, it does look a bit untidy with one short stump and one long one.

            – Have you thought about shortening the long stump?

            – Only in passing. There isn’t much point, really. The only people who see my naked stumps are present in this room and don’t forget, I’m not a young man. There’s not much point in having the ideal arm stumps when the rest of me is falling apart. My heart is holding up for the time being but my vision is fucked, to give it the technical term.

            – Oh!  I didn’t know. You’re not going blind, are you?

            – Yes, slowly but surely. It won’t mean that I can’t see anything but I won’t be able to make any sense of what I see. It’s like seeing the world through frosted glass. I can make out tiny details which disappear when I peer closer.

            – I’m sorry.

            – Don’t worry. I’m not helpless yet but I don’t want to think about what it will be like with shitty vision and hooks. You know well enough that the hook is useless if you can’t see what you’re doing.

            – Yeah, true enough.  Well, enough of all this. Put your jacket on, we’re going out.

            – What? Where to?

            – We’re going down the pub. We’ve never had a drink together, have we? You won’t need your wallet. I’m paying.

            – In that case, I’ll get my coat.

 

They strolled along together, the handsome young man talking to the old man, gesticulating with his hook, the old man pumping himself along in his wheelchair beside him, chuckling, laughing. They went into a local pub and were soon lost in the throng of noisy people, two amputees living life as it was intended, not disabled, not stared at as freaks. Wheelchairs and mobility scooters were common enough as the population aged. They talked about their lives and their hopes for the future and set the world to rights. They both had too much to drink, which was a suitable amount, and woke the next morning with sore heads. Russell regarded it as quite an achievement. Jüri knocked at ten thirty.

            – How are you feeling? Need a hair of the dog?

            – It wouldn’t come amiss. Come in for god’s sake before someone sees me.

Jüri stepped in and produced a litre bottle of Estonian vodka from behind his back.

            – Ta daa! Just so you know, we don’t need to drink all of it. My parents don’t like me drinking so I’ll leave this here with you, if that’s alright. And we might have a nip later on.

            – I can see the university life has had its effect. Sit down and I’ll get some glasses.

He propelled his chair to the kitchen and returned with two generously proportioned straight-sided glasses. Jüri sloshed a good amount of neat vodka into them and raised one in his hook.

            – Terviseks!

            – Your good health.

            – So tell me what you think I should do.

            – What do you mean?

            – Above elbow or below elbow?

            – Oh, that again. Are you really going to go ahead with it?

            – Of course I am. You don’t imagine that you’re the only man who ever wanted to use hooks, do you?

            – No, of course not. But I only wanted to lose one hand, not both of them.

            – It doesn’t seem to have slowed you down though.

            – Ha! No, I see your point. Are you asking for my opinion? You want to know if I were in your position, with a natural hand? Alright, let me think. Let’s mull it over. What are the advantages of a below elbow job compared with an above elbow job?

            – I’m glad the option of keeping the damn thing doesn’t come into the equation.

            – We’re here to discuss amputation, aren’t we, not if amputations are desirable. Go ahead, I say. Jesus, it’s difficult enough in this life to have anything you really want. If you want something, you have to grab it – even if that means with two hooks. So what do you think? I’m sure we talked about this last night but I seem to have forgotten what conclusion we came to.

            – Same here. Funny that. Cheers! Want another one?

            – Yes please.

            – Tell me about the things you miss being able to do now you have two hooks.

            – Oh, I don’t know. Stupid little things like opening a jar of pickles. Nose-picking. Everyone does it. That sort of stuff. The worst thing is how long it takes to get dressed. I often sleep in my clothes and leg braces because it’s such a chore to get them on and off. I have a helper who drops in twice a week and he changes my clothes and I have a shower.

            – So you get by. Sometimes I worry about you. Or at least, I think about you. You’ve been a good friend to me, even when I was just a kid. I used to enjoy coming here to do a few tasks for you. It made me feel I was being useful and making a difference.

            – You were. I was very grateful. I hope the money I could pay you was enough. I would have liked to help you more in some way but it wasn’t my place to interfere.

            – What do you mean?

            – You are a naïve young man, Jüri. I am talking about sexuality. You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?

            – No. The nice girls all seem to have boyfriends already.

            – Of course they do. Why don’t you have one? A handsome boy like you should attract the girls with no problems.

            – Look at this! What girl wants a boyfriend with a hook?

            – Do you have male friends? Do any of them turn their nose up and say ‘No no I don’t want you as a friend’.

            – No, of course not.

            – So why would a girl be any different?

Jüri ran his fingers over his hook for a moment, thinking.

            – You think it’s me, don’t you? I could get a girl if I wanted one.

            – Of course you could. The thing is, you don’t really want a girlfriend, do you? You’d rather have a nice boyfriend to be with and snuggle with in bed.

            – Yes, I would. How did you know?

            – Oh, that’s easy. I’ve been reading your mind from across Europe. Jüri, it takes one to know one. Have you heard of gaydar? It a facetious way of saying that one homosexual always recognises another. I have known for five years that you would be happier with another boy your own age than with a girlfriend.

            – Oh god! Is it that obvious?

            – No, of course not. I just had the idea. Don’t worry about it. But when you go back to uni, don’t be afraid to be good friends with another guy who seems to like you. If he invites you to his place for the night, grab the chance and go. I promise you that you will be happier when you know who you really are.

            – And who is that, do you think?

            – A man without hands but with a handsome loving husband.

Jüri bowed his head and sobbed. He had wasted so much time. He was almost twenty-one and was still a virgin. He blamed his stump above all else.

            – It’s not your stump which turns people off, Jüri, it’s you. You need to let yourself go. Other guys like you because you are very likable. The stump is only an extra. If you find the right man, you can have the other hand or the whole arm off and he will still love you. Promise me that you’ll give it a try. Be more open with people.

            – Yes, I will. I realise now that there were so many nice friends who wanted to have a deeper friendship with me but I always said No.

            – So stop saying No. When are you going to have your arm off?

            – Arm? Are you saying that you think I should have the thing off above the elbow?

            – Yes I am. Midway between your shoulder and your elbow. Just enough for the stump to peek out from the sleeve of a T-shirt. And you can wear a full arm or leave it off. It looks fantastic when a bilateral wears just one hook and lets the other stump get some air. Imagine it for yourself. You already have years experience of the right hook. You can do everything you need to. Then you have a handsome longish left stump. You can choose whether to wear the long prosthesis and the second hook or to present yourself as a maimed but handsome male. I do like your beard, by the way. It suits you very well.

            – Alright, I see. When I go back, I should find a guy who I love and who loves me and then plan to have my arm off.

            – Yes, I think so. And the above elbow amputation would be better because it seems to be on your mind all the time. If you have a matching stump, you’ll always be wondering if the above elbow would have been better.

            – Thank you for clearing up my thoughts. Yes, I can see I’d be happier with an above elbow job. I’ll tell my mate Fedya and we can do it before I come back here.

            – What are you going to tell your mum and dad?

            – Cancer. That covers most things, doesn’t it?

            – Yep.

 

– – – – – – -

 

A year passed. Jüri was introduced to nuclear physics and found himself enjoying the challenge. Traditional Newtonian physics had been logical and almost familiar. The new horizons opened up by modern adaptations of Einstein’s theories were exciting and satisfying. Fedya approached him towards the end of the spring term.

            – We have the whole system set up if you’re ready. We have to go to Daugavpils in Latvia at the beginning of August but we have access to everything we need for an amputation. If you still want it.

            – Of course I still want it.

            – Have you decided on what you need?

            – Above my elbow. Half way.

            – Great. That’s what I was going to suggest. Long enough to leave loose or to wear a pros. Look, I’ll let my colleagues know you’re ready and get back to you. But it will be at the beginning of August so you’ll be healed by the new term. What do you think?

            – Let’s do it.

            – Хорошо!

 

Jüri made his apologies to his parents that unfortunately he would be unable to return home that summer. He explained that he was experiencing pain in his left elbow and that he had a course of treatment which required him to travel to neighbouring Latvia. He doubted he could complete his treatment and return to see them for just a week or two and begged their understanding and forgiveness. He promised to maintain his weekly video calls in spite of everything.

 

Fedya made some preparations. He had some forged medical forms which he filled out in Russian: name of patient, disease, symptoms, treatment, name of surgeon, date of amputation, date of dismissal. When the deed was done, he would submit the forms to another contact in the Latvian Health Service for translation into Latvian and English. The translations would be uploaded to the medical database and everything would then appear legal and official. Jüri would be entitled to receive a prosthetic arm from the state rather than needing to rely on a private prosthetist.

 

The summer break began. Fedya drove with Jüri and another friend from Tartu to Daugavpils. The amputation was scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Fedya made sure the necessary drugs and equipment were in place and that the premises would be secure. He studied an anatomical encyclopaedia to make sure he understood what he would encounter.

 

The procedure started at ten the next morning. Jüri received an injection of an anaesthetic, his arm was prepared and sterilised and he was given an oxygen mask, the gas coming from a fifty litre steel bottle. Fedya acted with admirable skill, severing tendons and nerves, cutting through the humerus with an electric saw. His friend removed the severed arm and Fedya set about preparing the stump for closure. An hour later, the job was done. The stump was bandaged correctly and they waited for their friend to regain consciousness. Jüri began to come to thirty minutes later.

            – Hello Jüri. How do you feel? The amputation is done and it all went well. Try not to move your arm just yet.

            – OK. Can I have some water, please?

Fedya opened a bottle of Vichy and helped Jüri drink. Jüri ran his stump across his lips.

            – We’ll stay here for a couple of hours until you feel awake and then we can go back to our lodgings.

 

They spent five days at the boarding house. Fedya or his friend helped Jüri wash, dress and eat. He contacted his prosthetist friend in Tallinn and notified him that a left above elbow prosthesis would shortly be needed and to acquire the necessary components. The Russian language medical report was sent for translation and was entered shortly afterwards into the national database. They returned to Tartu where Jüri was left to fend for himself. Fortunately one of his flatmates had already returned and, once recovered from the shock of seeing Jüri missing an entire arm, was willing to help him. Jüri’s stump was sore but not painful and seemed to be improving. The swelling was gone and the stitches could shortly be removed. Jüri liked the length and bulk of he stump. Fedya had managed to retain much of the muscle. It would heal to be a handsome mid‑humeral stump, eminently suitable for operating a full‑length prosthesis.

 

The new term started. His classmates were shocked at Jüri’s appearance. Everyone did their best to help him at every opportunity. A newly arrived German student, Daniel Klein, was especially friendly and helpful. Jüri accepted peoples’ assistance even when he could manage with his one hook. He missed not being able to lean on his elbow when he was taking notes but that would change when he got his artificial arm. Fedya had been in touch with his contact about it. There was a delay with the wrist attachment mechanism and Fedya would be informed as soon as everything was ready. It was not a complicated process once the shoulder socket had been created.

 

Daniel was looking for a flatmate. He lived in a two room apartment on the other side of the river where rents were a little cheaper than in the town centre but there was plenty of room for two. Daniel suggested that perhaps Jüri might like to share. He could take care of him. Jüri remembered the advice Russell had given him – be open to friendships. Daniel was a devotee and a wannabe and was infatuated with the thought of having a handsome double amputee flatmate. He wasn’t sure if Jüri was gay or not but that was not important just yet. After a couple of days of pleading and persuasion, Jüri agreed to move in with Daniel. His flatmates helped, carrying everything into Fedya’s car and carrying everything up three flights of stairs in the new place. Jüri promised them beers and pizzas one weekend when they could all get together.

 

Daniel restrained himself with Jüri. He was hoping that the handsomely bearded amputee would let down his emotional barrier. He was sociable and friendly enough and accepted intimate assistance in the bathroom but showed no emotion. Perhaps, he rationalised, it was due to the recent trauma and Jüri might be more open to his advances as he settled into his new home and had his second prosthesis. Daniel was looking forward to seeing it. He had never met anyone who used a full-length prosthetic arm and was intrigued to see how the elbow mechanism and the hook were operated.

 

Fedya had a message from his contact in Tallinn that the wrist mechanism had arrived and that work on the prosthesis could begin. Fedya drove Jüri and Daniel to the clinic, where Jüri’s shoulder and stump were casted. A test socket would be ready in seven days and the final completed prosthesis would be ready a week after that. Jüri was excited to be finally getting the new arm. He was going to look fine with a pair of hooks and anticipated the challenge of learning to use the artificial elbow.

 

On their return to Tartu, Jüri composed an email to Russell explaining what had been going on over the past three months since he last wrote and revealing that he was now a double amputee. He enclosed a few photos of his upper body showing off his stumps including one of Daniel and himself standing next to each other in their digs. He begged Russell to keep it all a secret from his parents. Russell was surprised to see the above elbow stump. He had expected Jüri to duplicate his other stump at some point. But the boy had taken his advice after all. Russell was of an age when erections were few and far between but he became excited by Jüri’s photos and rubbed one out while he had the chance. His hooks felt superb manipulating his old cock.

 

Jüri’s parents had no idea that their son was armless. They knew that Jüri had been receiving treatment for problems with his left elbow, which they assumed was due to his left arm doing the work of two. Jüri had a copy of his medical papers stating that an amputation had been necessary because of sarcoma. Jüri wanted to wait until he was due to return before he revealed his new configuration to his parents. By that time, he would be able to use the new arm and function as well as any other bilateral hook user.

 

Daniel accompanied Jüri when they travelled to Tallinn by bus to try out the test socket. It was immediately obvious that there would be little movement available at the shoulder joint. The artificial upper arm would have a very limited range of movement at the shoulder. The elbow joint would not rotate in any way, neither would the wrist. It would be a very basic prosthesis presenting its own problems. Jüri had anticipated something which mimicked a real arm in its range of motion. Perhaps something more advanced would be available for him later. The socket was well-fitting and comfortable. The prosthetist promised him to have the final product for him the following week. Jüri and Daniel looked around Tallinn for the rest of the day and had a good meal in town before catching the bus back to Tartu.

 

It was evening when they arrived home. They sat on the two seater sofa and Jüri lifted his short stump onto Daniel’s shoulder. If he had had an arm, he might have put it around Daniel’s neck.

            – Thank you for helping me today. I was pleased you came with me.

            – Don’t mention it. I was happy to be with you. Jüri, I am always happy when I’m with you. I’m glad I can be your friend. You are a very special man and I respect and admire you.

Jüri looked at Daniel to see if he was serious or not. Daniel’s dark brown eyes gleamed with love and expectation. Jüri leaned closer and kissed Daniel’s cheek. Daniel swivelled round and took hold of Jüri’s head and held it gently as they kissed, exploring each other’s mouths with their tongues. Jüri gripped Daniel’s shoulders with his stump and prosthesis and fell backwards with Daniel following. Daniel supported him as their kissing grew more feverish. Daniel loosened his trousers and let his erection free. He undid Jüri’s belt and pulled his jeans down to his ankles, revealing Jüri’s own sturdy erection. Daniel masturbated it. Jüri threw his head back and groaned in ecstasy. No other man had ever touched him before. He was surprised at the sensations he felt, a growing sense of almost panic, his anus twitching and then a liquid pulse of relief, a crescendo of power. He rallied and took hold of Daniel’s penis with his hook and tried to emulate what Daniel had done. Daniel needed no more encouragement. The sight of his penis in Jüri’s hook was enough and he came, semen shooting explosively onto his chest. They lay back against the sofa, looked at each other and laughed weakly.

            – We should do that again some time.

            – I love you, Jüri.

 

The encounter changed the atmosphere in the apartment completely. Daniel’s bed was wider than Jüri’s and at a pinch could sleep two. They did sleep, eventually, with Jüri’s stump holding on to Daniel’s chest with Daniel’s hands on top of it. Jüri held his short left stump behind Daniel’s head. Daniel enjoyed the musk from Jüri’s armpit. It was his friend’s smell, his lover’s aroma, and he was calmed when he smelled it.

 

The new couple travelled to Tallinn again the next weekend to collect the new arm prosthesis. Daniel was amused by hearing Jüri speaking Estonian. They spoke English to each other and their physics course was taught in English. Daniel understood nothing other than Jaa. The prosthetist fitted the sleek black prosthesis to Jüri’s stump. The harness was designed to support two prostheses, as requested by Fedya. He adjusted the strap’s tension and Jüri practised lifting and dropping the elbow. The hook reached his mouth when the elbow was bent to its full extent but it was then difficult to operate the hook. He was shown how to first position the elbow and lock it before attempting to open the hook. It would always be a two-step process, always slightly slow and unintuitive, always mechanical. Daniel watched in awe with an insistent erection. The artificial forearm did not match that on Jüri’s right arm which was a little disappointing but understandable. When he had his next pair of arms made, he would ask the prosthetist to ensure that the forearms matched.

            – This is the best I can do for you, Herr Saar. You understand how the prosthesis works, do you not? Now you need to practise as much as possible. I suggest that you remove your other hook when possible to force yourself to rely on the new arm. Please take them both off and I will transfer your right prosthesis onto this harness.

It was a simple procedure. Jüri tested the fit and half an hour later, both he and the prosthetist were satisfied with the set-up. Jüri requested an extra rubber band for the hook but was advised that he would learn faster if he did not need to exert so much pressure at first. Its grip would be weak for a couple of months but he would become accustomed to it sooner. Jüri signed a few papers and was thanked for his custom and wished a good journey home. Daniel folded the old harness and put it into his cargo pants’ thigh pocket. He helped Jüri get his jacket on and stood back to see his lover sporting two steel hooks. It was the first time he had seen Jüri with two arms. Jüri shrugged his shoulders to get the harness into a better position and they left the clinic. They caught a tram into the town centre and revisited the same restaurant for another superb meal and a few beers. They caught the Tartu bus at seven thirty and were home just before ten.

 

Daniel made a shocking revelation on the bus. He admitted that he too had been fascinated by hooks since he was a boy and would love to have a pair. He had looked into various methods including using dry ice but he never had another close friend who would agree to monitor him during the lengthy freezing process. He had lost a good friend by once mentioning that he would like to lose his hands. They were a little drunk in a Bierkeller in Kassel and the friend had more or less terminated the friendship there and then. Jüri was surprised and wondered if his relationship with Daniel was ascribable to his devoteeism but said nothing. It may well be, he thought, but he has never pestered me about my hook and never comments about my stumps.

 

            – I was thinking about what you said on the bus. Would you really like hooks?

            – Yes, I would. I think it’s the most interesting way a man can be – a nice body, strong legs and arms which both end halfway down his forearms, just like yours. It’s beautiful. I don’t know how to describe it.

            – Did you know that Fedya can help, if you really want to get stumps?

            – No. Really?

            – You ought to talk to him. You should wait until next spring, until the end of the spring term and then you’ll have three months to have your amputations and be fitted with prostheses. Assuming, that it, that Fedya is still around. He might be leaving at the end of this year. Don’t forget he’s a year ahead of us.

            – I had no idea. Is Fedya a devotee too?

            – I don’t know but he is sympathetic to the cause. He did my above elbow for me last summer.

Jüri wagged his short stump.

            – Wow! To think that I’m so close to being able to have my hands off! Oh, it would be wonderful to be handless with hooks – you and me, together, living life with double hooks.

            – I think you need to talk to Fedya as soon as possible. I don’t know if he will agree to amputate your hands. Forearms are more complicated than upper arms. I don’t know if he would be ready to do the operation, especially not two. But you can ask him.

            – I will. I really like your new arm. How does it feel?

            – It’s OK. It does feel strange to have something on my stump after all this time but I’ll soon get used to it. I hope I can use it too.

            – Are you going to take the other hook off like he suggested?

            – No, not yet. The main reason being that it doesn’t grip as well as my right hook. I don’t want to start dropping things. I can’t control how tightly I grip things.

            – No, I suppose not. I think you look fantastic with two hooks. Really perfect.

 

Later in the evening, Jüri took a photo of himself standing next to Daniel. He was wearing a T-shirt and both his prosthetic arms were fully visible. He sent the photo to Russell without an explanation or message. Russell was tremendously impressed with Jüri’s determination and accomplishment. He wondered how Jüri was going to explain himself to his parents.

 

The new arm was of some use. Its two-phase operation was a little awkward. Daniel loved to watch Jüri shrug and jerk to operate the elbow. Very little lateral motion was possible. Jüri could pick up objects directly in front of him and raise them but he could not move the hook from side to side. He could hold a hamburger in the hook and eat it. The arm would not turn enough to let him wank but he could tease Daniel’s cock with it. They played sex games often. Daniel asked Jüri to wear his prostheses when they made love. Jüri’s left prosthesis lay rigid and motionless by his side until Daniel moved into a position where the hook could squeeze his penis. The more Daniel experienced love-making with his lover wearing prostheses, the stronger his desire to have a pair of his own grew.

 

They invited Fedya and his friend around for beers one Friday evening. Fedya confirmed that he would be leaving Tartu at the end of the year and returning to Latvia. Daniel spoke to him quietly.

            – Fedya, I have a problem you might be able to help me with.

            – Oh? What’s that?

He lifted his hands up and waggled the fingers.

            – These. I want a pair of hooks and I was hoping that maybe you could amputate my hands.

            – Shit! Both hands? At the same time?

            – Yeah. I think that would be better. Get it done at the same time.

            – When do you want it done?

            – The sooner, the better. Will you have access to the clinic in Daugavpils again?

            – It can be arranged. How much are you willing to pay?

            – Pay? Did Jüri have to pay anything?

            – I don’t want to discuss financial matters. Name your price.

Daniel was taken aback. He had thought that Fedya had amputated Jüri’s left arm without any money exchanging hands – which had indeed been the case. But there was no sense in not trying to get a few euros before his return home. Daniel thought about how much he could afford and where he could get more funds if he ran out halfway through the spring term. He did have a reserve of fifteen hundred for emergencies and he quickly persuaded himself that getting his own stumps was an emergency in order to maintain his sanity.

            – I’m sorry, Fedya. I don’t have much money to pay you. But I could pay a thousand two hundred euros.

Fedya had expected him to offer about five hundred or so. He would gladly accept the amount Daniel suggested. It would come in very useful back home.

            – Very well. I will do the operation. I suggest the beginning of December after the exams. You will then have six weeks to recover and learn to use your new hooks.

            – Are the hooks included in the price?

            – Yes. Don’t worry about that. We’ll arrange it so you are eligible for state-funded prosthetics. They aren’t the most advanced but if you just want a standard pair of hooks, they’ll be fine.

            – Yes, that’s all I want. I don’t care about bionic hands and all that stuff.

            – Good. I’ll start making preparations. You start making preparations too. You’re going to be helpless for several weeks.

            – I think Jüri will help.

            – Yes, I think so too. But now, it’s time for beer.

 

Jüri took to wearing a smart tweed jacket in public. He wore a plain white T-shirt under his prostheses, then a pullover if the weather was cold and finally his jacket. His steel hooks extended a few centimetres from the cuffs, sufficient for what he needed. He usually set his left elbow at a forty-five degree angle. Somehow it looked less shocking than having the arm hang motionless at his side. He was admired and respected on campus and his tutors gave him a little extra leeway with deadlines for assignments. But his work was above standard and precise. He would have a respectable career if he kept it up.

 

Daniel did his best to reign in his excitement. He went through daily life trying to imagine how he would do various things with hooks instead of hands. He had a good idea of what Jüri was unable to do. Dressing themselves was going to be a big time waster. Jüri had already changed his wardrobe to make it easier to dress himself but even something as simple as pulling on a pair of socks took many attempts. They were things which Daniel was determined to tolerate. It was the price he had to pay for his stumps and prosthetic arms.

 

Fedya had been busy ordering anaesthetics, oxygen and other paraphernalia required for Daniel’s double amputation. They were all sourced from underground contacts operating in the Baltic states. Money exchanged hands, debts were created, loyalties strengthened. Fedya would be ready on the tenth of December and informed Daniel of the date.

 

Jüri was not present when Fedya and his companion drove with Daniel to the soviet era clinic in Daugavpils. It was kept ticking over by the local authorities because it offered employment to a few local people. It was often used for irregular purposes. The less said, the better. Its surgical theatre would again be put to its original use and a fit young German student would leave without hands. Fedya once again studied and revised his anatomy. Daniel wanted arm stumps about twelve or thirteen centimetres long. Fedya acquainted himself with the musculature, nerve networks and tendons in that area and steeled himself to deal with them. Daniel had asked for rounded stumps without visible scars from the front so Fedya designed incisions to produce the desired result. It was all excellent practice for the future. He had seen first hand the success he had achieved with Jüri’s stump. It might be quite a while before he met Daniel again after leaving Tartu but he wanted to see the results of his work. He was a deceitful man but not inconsiderate.

 

It took Fedya three hours to amputate Daniel’s right hand and forearm. He noticed early on that he had miscalculated the amount of skin tissue required to close the wound and was forced to amputate a little higher than Daniel had requested. Not wanting to leave the boy with uneven stumps, he deliberately made the left stump shorter to match. Daniel’s healed stumps would be eight centimetres long measuring from the inside of the elbow. He would need hinges at the elbows to hold his stumps securely in the sockets which would prevent him from rotating his arms. Daniel was going to be more disabled than he expected but the main thing was, Fedya reasoned, that he had forearm stumps and would be using a pair of hooks for the rest of his life which was what he wanted. He completed the left amputation in two hours and stood back to admire his work. Fluid was still draining from the fresh stumps.

 

Daniel had mixed emotions about his stumps. They were shorter than he had wanted but, on the other hand, he now had stumps. Fedya changed his bandages, fed him four times a day, brought him hot and cold drinks and on the fifth day announced that it was time to return to Tartu. Daniel was washed and dressed and helped into Fedya’s old Toyota. They delivered Daniel to his home, rang the doorbell and Jüri welcomed his lover back.

 

Jüri could see the problem as soon as he carefully removed Daniel’s jacket. The stumps were too short. It was not what they had wanted. Jüri realised immediately that Daniel was going to be as disadvantaged as if he had lost his arms above the elbows. The prosthetics available for below elbow amputees with such short stumps were similar to his left arm. It had a very limited range of movement. Up and down. That was all. Daniel would get his hooks but would he ever be able to function as a bilateral amputee? It would remain to be seen. Daniel was despondent and they spent their evening in almost total silence, neither daring to express their disillusionment. They slept in separate beds for the next few nights. Fedya called in every morning before classes to change Daniel’s bandages. He never offered an explanation of why Daniel’s stumps were so short, neither did they dare to ask. They still needed his assistance to acquire prostheses and did not dare to confront him.

 

Daniel’s prosthetic arms were manufactured in Tallinn, requiring several return journeys. Jüri always accompanied his lover and was overjoyed when, in the last week of January, Daniel left the clinic wearing a new pair of artificial arms with two pairs of hooks. Steel bracing ran the length of the forearms to hinges at the elbows, continuing upwards and attaching to the leather cuffs which covered much of Daniel’s upper arms. Daniel sat on the bus with the hooks resting motionless on his thighs. Jüri was unhappy for him. He would have trouble operating the forearms with such short stumps. Maybe it would be better if he had a similar set-up to what he himself wore on the left. Something where the elbows could be operated by shoulder movements. Time would tell.

 

Daniel immediately set about learning to write. He knew it was possible – there were enough examples of men relearning to write even with above elbow prostheses. The spring term had started and Jüri kept Daniel abreast of the new work. There was nothing wrong with his brain. Daniel returned to university in mid-February and caused consternation among his fellow students. He had learned the restrictions his prostheses presented and had become used to moving his upper body to compensate for the motions which his arms were unable to make. He had announced his disablement to his father and reassured him that he was continuing with his studies and managing quite well. He invented a story about a traffic accident. His father expressed his shock and wished him good luck. Jüri had still not informed his parents of his second amputation. He was careful not to show his upper body in video calls. Daniel assured him that he had nothing to be reticent about. His mother would be upset for a day or two but Jüri could reassure her that everything was fine, that he was functioning well with his artificial limbs and that the fictional cancer which had necessitated the second amputation had been beaten.

 

He received a long email from Russell. The old man was well, coping with his disability with the twice weekly assistance of Ira. Russell was curious to know how Jüri enjoyed having two hooks and whether he preferred the challenging left arm over the below elbow original prosthesis. Jüri replied and described his pleasure in wearing hooks and the reactions of outsiders. He took another photo of himself with Daniel, almost identical to the one he had sent the previous year. The difference was that now Daniel also sported a pair of hooks. They both grinned into the phone’s lens. Russell was delighted for them and hoped they could all meet before too long.

 

Spring turned into summer and students were making plans for the long holiday. Jüri suggested the pair of them visit his parents for a few days and return via Kassel to meet Daniel’s father. Both men had quietly and steadily formed a close emotional relationship and enjoyed frequent lovemaking accompanied by the clash of prosthetic arms and hooks. Daniel loved to suckle on Jüri’s short stump while Jüri masturbated him with the long one. Stump play excited them and was usually all they needed for orgasm. They wanted to stay together all summer but needed a break from Tartu after nearly two years. They bought InterRail tickets and planned a route across Europe.

 

Daniel was very satisfied with his stumps but less pleased with his semi-rigid prostheses. His short stumps would always require reinforcement in the shape of a mechanical hinged elbow and he would never be able to manipulate his arms as freely as Jüri did with his right hook. They looked into the availability of bionic solutions but they were not available via the public health service and were formidably expensive. Perhaps later when they were rich and famous they might be able to afford cutting-edge technology. There was another year of uni before they graduated and could start looking round for employment. Daniel anticipated getting a job in the German nuclear industry now that the nation’s Green Party had finally been persuaded to see the error of their sixty year opposition to it. There were going to be some very lucrative jobs for young nuclear engineers in the near future.

 

Jüri applied for an Estonian passport. It would allow him unrestricted travel around Europe as well as confirming him as an Estonian citizen. He had lived outside the country almost his entire life. He collected the pass from Tartu police station three weeks later. Both men borrowed back packs from friends and readied themselves for their jaunt. The end of term exams demanded the rest of their time. They were demanding but not impossible. They expected decent grades and could then relax for the next two months.

 

They both bought a quantity of cotton T-shirts and vests. They were looking forward to meeting admirers and devotees and wanted to advertise their amputee status. Their prostheses were still in good condition and looked smart. Finally they decided on a date and a route.

 

Two days later, early Saturday morning, they caught a bus to Tallinn and then a ferry to Helsinki. Train to Turku, ferry to Stockholm and another train to Hamburg via Copenhagen. Hamburg to Rotterdam and a ferry across to Harwich and a series of trains via London to Jüri’s former home. He was still nervous at meeting his parents as a double amputee. He wore his tweed jacket and a pair of jeans. Daniel had an off-white fisherman’s pullover which hid all but his hooks. Jüri rapped on the door. His mother opened it and practically fell forward onto her son, hugging him for dear life. Jüri hugged her back with his hard arm sockets.

            – Oh, it’s so good to see you! It’s been so long. We’ve been looking forward to seeing you for so long. Come in, son. And who’s this?

            – This is Daniel, mum. He’s from Germany and we study together and share the flat. You can see we have something else in common.

            – Yes. Jüri, I have to make one thing clear. I know you have lost your other arm to cancer and have beaten it but I don’t want to know anything more about it. I find it very upsetting. So please don’t talk about it. Daniel, do come in. You do speak English, don’t you?

            – Yes, Mrs Saar. I hope my hooks won’t upset you.

            – I’m sure they won’t. I have to stop being silly about it all. Come and sit down. Your father won’t be home until six but he’s looking forward to seeing you too. I’m sorry, Daniel, we weren’t expecting to see you. I’m not sure where you’re going to sleep.

            – Oh, if you have an extra blanket, I can sleep on the floor in Jüri’s room. We’re on a camping holiday so it’s quite normal to sleep on the floor.

            – Well, I hope you won’t have to. I’ll see what I can sort out. Now, how long are you going to be staying? You can stay as long as you want, of course.

            – I thought five days, mum. We came here first to see you but Daniel also wants to meet his father in Germany before we go back to Estonia.

            – Yes, of course. Where does he live, Daniel?

            – In Kassel.

            – Right in the middle.

            – That’s right! He hasn’t seen me like this, either. I wonder how he’ll react.

            – I’m sure he’ll just be happy to see you again. Are you hungry? Shall I make some sandwiches and we can have some coffee in here?

            – Yes please.

She rose and went to the kitchen. Jüri followed.

            – I’m sorry it’s been so long, mum. It was difficult for me last year after the operation. I knew it would upset you so I didn’t say anything until I was recovered and you knew that I was OK.

            – That was thoughtful of you, son. I would have worried, of course. You were brave to face it alone.

            – I had a lot of support from my friends. They helped me over the hard times and for quite a while afterward.

            – What do you think of the old country?

            – It’s a different place from the one you left, mum. It’s modern and pretty and all the buildings have been renovated and painted and it looks really nice. I think you and dad should think about moving back one day. Maybe when dad stops working.

            – I don’t know if he’s entitled to get his pension paid to an Estonian bank, Jüri. It could be that we‘ll have to stay here.

            – I got a passport, by the way.

            – Oh good. Can I see it?

Jüri angled his left hook and plucked at his left lapel with the hook. He grasped the maroon passport in his pocket and offered it to his mother for inspection. She admired its attractive design and its delicate colours.

            – This is a nice photo of you. You look very handsome with a beard, I must say.

She handed it back to Jüri and watched as he gripped it with the hook as effortlessly as with a hand. He was doing OK. They enjoyed their afternoon snack and Mrs Saar announced that she should start making the evening meal.

            – Do you mind if I pay my old friend a visit?

            – Russell, you mean?

            – Yeah. Daniel, come and meet my old friend.

They went across the hallway to Russell’s flat. Jüri rapped on the door with a hook. Russell pumped the levers on his wheelchair and crossed to open the door. He laughed in surprise.

            – My god, look at you! Great to see you again, son. Come in, both of you. How do you do? I’m Russell. Who are you?

They shook each other’s right hooks.

            – My name is Daniel. Jüri and I share a flat together in Tartu.

            – It’s good to meet you. Well, sit down. I was going to have a beer. But in honour of your arrival, would you like something stronger? There’s vodka and whisky and cognac. Daniel, what do you like?

            – I like all of those but I think we should stick to beer while we’re guests of the Saars. Do you have enough? Shall we go to the shop for some more?

            – No need. I have enough for this afternoon. So tell me all about how you’re doing.

Jüri took his jacket off and Daniel struggled out of his loose pullover, exposing their prosthetic arms.

            – Well, school is going great. We both got pretty good grades so we’re allowed back for the last year and Daniel has been talking about moving back to Germany after that. You know they’re restarting their nuclear power stations so that might be a good opening for us.

            – And your hooks won’t count against you?

            – No, of course not. For a start, it’s illegal to discriminate and our work is all computer-based and we can both type with hooks so where’s the problem?

            – Indeed. I’d be interested to know more about your amputation, Jüri. What have you told your parents?

            – Cancer. A sarcoma in my elbow.

            – And they believe you?

            – I suppose so. Mum just said she didn’t want to talk about it. She was happy to see me doing so well.

            – How about you, Daniel? How did you lose your hands?

            – Officially in a road accident. I could see we were about to collide with the back of a lorry so I put my arms up to protect my face and they were severed.

            – Very good. And what really happened?

            – The same guy who amputated Jüri agreed to amputate my hands too. He arranged it so we’re both registered as disabled with the national health system, which in practice means all over Europe and we can get our prosthetics from the state.

            – Good. I see your arms have steel bracing. You have short stumps, do you?

            – Yeah. They’re shorter than what we planned. I don’t know what went wrong but my stumps are too short to wear a standard below elbow socket so I need additional bracing and the steel hinge at my elbow. It makes life a bit more difficult but I can do most things.

            – It makes you a little robotic. I like the look of it. I hope you’re happy with it now.

            – Yes. I like the arms and the hooks. I wanted to be disabled and now I am. It’s good.

            – They look very good on you. You look like a man who was fated to wear hooks. I can’t imagine you with hands.

            – That’s kind of you to say so. How did you lose your hands, if I may ask?

            – I arranged to be attacked by one of the local foreigners. He was supposed to hack off my left arm but the bastard got both of them. The police looked for him but he’s not been found, as far as I know, and I’ve never seen him again. I would prefer it if both stumps were the same length but you can’t tell when I’m wearing my hooks so it doesn’t matter much.

            – How old are you, Russell?

            – I’m seventy-four. There might be a few years left to me. I always wanted to have a hook. I regret not doing anything about it when I was a young man. I envy you two, going through life with hooks instead of hands, with decades ahead of you. So much time to enjoy your stumps and play with artificial arms. I take it you are a couple? Lovers?

            – Yes. I think so. What do you think, Jüri? Are we a couple?

            – Why ask? Yes, we’re a couple and lovers. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love Daniel. He became an amputee for me. I hope we’ll always be a couple.

They finished their beers and Jüri stood up.

            – We should get back, Russell. Thanks for the beer. It’s good to see you looking so spry.

            – Call in whenever you want. Maybe we could show Daniel what our local pub is like.

            – Good idea! But not tonight.

They put their outer layers on and went back to Jüri’s old flat. Mrs Saar was busy in the kitchen. The amputees had little to occupy themselves with.

            – I’m sorry, Daniel. It’s always like this. We could watch television, if you like.

            – OK. Television in this country has a good reputation.

Jüri found the remote and switched the tv on. There were children’s programmes on live tv and an old episode of QI on Dave. They watched it and the following episode. Mrs Saar left them in peace. Jüri’s father arrived home and made an impressive display of welcoming his son, holding both hooks and declaring that it was just like the old days. It was not. Jüri was now an adult, dependent on prosthetic limbs to function and his male lover was in the room. That was the next hurdle. Coming out to his parents.

            – It’s great to be home. I know we chat every so often but it’s not the same.

            – You’ve been devious, Jüri. You’ve had a second amputation for a year but you kept it a secret from us. Why? Why didn’t you tell us? Did you think we would be angry?

            – I thought it would worry you being so far away. I was managing OK, though. First my friends helped me out and then I got this arm and learned to use it. It was a huge help. So I was doing fine with two hooks but I always thought that you would be upset. So I didn’t let on until recently.

            – Well, I just want to let you know that you don’t need to hold secrets from us. We prefer to know, especially if, as you say, you’re managing OK.

            – Thanks dad. That’s good to know.

 

Mrs Saar produced a fine meal for four. Salad for starters, then nasi goreng and ice cream with coffee. She and her husband watched the double amputees manipulate their forks. Daniel looked like he had to strain rather more than Jüri. He did not seem to be able to move his forearms properly. Jüri’s left hook rested in his lap. It was fairly useless for eating. He could hold a fork with it but the food would always fall off unless it was skewered because of the impractical angle. The rice dish his mother had served was not suitable for skewering. Jüri talked about his uni course and his results and his hopes for the future. Daniel chipped in occasionally, corroborating Jüri’s unlikely tales and telling them what he found odd or unusual about living and studying in Estonia. It was a pleasant meal.

 

As if to prove a point, Jüri and Daniel insisted that they wash the dishes. It was usually his father’s job. The three men went to the kitchen and Jüri filled the sink with hot water. He carefully placed the dirty plates in the water and gripped a sponge.

            – That water’s very hot, Jüri. Be careful.

            – Doesn’t matter. Can’t feel anything.

            – No, I suppose not. Well, I’ll leave you to it.

Daniel mainly watched. He could have dried the plates but Jüri washed Estonian style, rinsing the crockery in more hot water so they would dry quickly.

 

The family sat around the coffee table with the television on quietly in the background. Mrs Saar suggested they play a game of Scrabble. That would be a challenge for the boys. It was completely new to Daniel but he soon understood the rules and racked his brain for English words. It was a little difficult to place the tiles on the board but good fun all the same. Jüri won two games, his father two.

 

They begged off at half past ten, saying that it had been a long day and they needed to get some sleep. Mr Saar insisted on helping the boys doff their prosthetics and made sure they were comfortable. Jüri allowed his father to inspect his stumps.

            – Do they hurt you?

            – No. They feel just like regular arms, dad.

            – Alright. Good night, you two.

He shut the door and joined his wife.

            – Are you still worried about Jüri? It seems to me that he’s doing really well with his hooks. He uses them as naturally as his hands.

            – I know. I was watching them. I’ll always worry about Jüri but I suppose all mothers worry about their sons. But I won’t worry about him not being able to manage. It’s such a shame that he had to lose his other arm too. What are the odds?

 

The next day, Jüri showed Daniel around the town and they ate out. They called on Russell again later and suggested that that evening might be a suitable time for a few beers in the local. Russell was ready and willing and suggested that Mr and Mrs Saar join them. Jüri did invite them but they declined. The next day was a workday and Mrs Saar did not enjoy visiting pubs. The trio dressed conservatively in long-sleeved shirts and pullovers. They arrived around eight o’clock and found seats in the beer garden, a cross between a patio and a garden centre. They sat outside for a couple of hours and went inside when the sun went down.

 

All three discussed their prosthetics and hooks and the benefits of various designs. Russell felt sorry for Daniel being so restricted by his short stumps and the hinged elbows but admired the appearance of his sockets with the extra chrome-plated struts securing the stumps. Russell was the only one with a full range of motion with both prostheses and seeing Jüri and Daniel contorting themselves to control their hooks made him appreciate the old saying that there were always people worse off than yourself. Russell had long felt perfectly at home with his hooks. He knew what they could do and could not do and no longer attempted things which would frustrate him. He was content to finally be a bilateral amputee in the sunset of his life after hankering after his own stump and an artificial limb for most of his life. He had acquired two stumps in the process and was pleased with them both. He hoped the young lads would learn to appreciate their mechanical limbs too. Who knew what the future might hold for them? Thought-controlled limbs indistinguishable from real ones? Artificial hands which could feel things? It was all clever stuff but it all lacked the attraction of a pair of steel hooks. The young men looked masculine and exclusive with their bilateral hooks, worn with understated confidence. Good looking lads.

 

They stayed at the Saar’s for five days. They travelled into London for some sightseeing. They invited Russell out to the pub again and had a drop too much.

            – We might not meet again after tonight. I want to thank you for helping me out back when I needed it. I’m happy to see you with your own hooks and how well you’re doing. I hope you get what you want out of life, Jüri. You’re a good lad.

 

They bid an emotional farewell to Mr and Mrs Saar and hurried to the station.

            – I hate goodbyes.

They spent the rest of the day journeying to Cologne where they booked into a hotel and spent much of the night making love. Jüri stood and let Daniel masturbate him with his short fleshy stumps until his knees weakened and he came. Jüri played with Daniel’s nipples. Hooks were astonishingly well suited for literal nip play. Jüri shucked his prostheses and went to work on Daniel’s cock with his stump. Daniel arched his back and shot cum into the room.

 

They arrived in Kassel the next day. Daniel’s father was retired and lived alone after the death of his wife ten years previously. He welcomed his disabled son and held his hooks to appraise him. He looked into Daniel’s eyes.

            – How are you?

            – I’m fine, father. This is my good friend Jüri. We live together.

            – Welcome to my home, Jüri. I see you two have something in common. Come inside and let’s have a drink. How was your journey? You came directly from England?

            – No no, we spent the night in Cologne. The train timetables make it very difficult to do a journey like this in just one day.

            – Sit down. Jüri, do you speak German?

            – Not very much, sorry.

            – We shall speak English then, except when I have something personal to say to Daniel. Then excuse us if we speak German.

            – Yes, of course. Thank you.

            – What would you like to drink? Have you eaten?

            – We had something on the train. I’m OK for now. Do you still have rum in the house?

            – Oh yes. Rum and cola. Ice?

            – Yes please.

Werner Klein busied himself with making the drinks. He chose tall narrow glasses, reasoning that they would be easier for the amputees to handle. He brought them over and lowered them to the table and placed one in front of his guests.

            – Prosit! Your very good health. Now, Daniel, you seem to have a new problem since the last time we met. You are comfortable with your Prothesen?

            – Yes thank you, father. I have short stumps so these arms are of a special design. They make some things more difficult but I have learned to use the hooks well.

            – I can see that. I would prefer you to have your hands but I can see that you use your hooks well. I would like to see your stumps later, if you will allow, to understand better. But that is all I have to say on the subject. You are still my son. Your hands were not what makes you Daniel. Let us not talk of it again. Prosit!

The evening continued with the civilised talk which was typical of the retired bank manager. They enjoyed their drinks, spoke of their studies, exam results, life in Estonia’s second city, their friends and their expectations. Jüri felt far more relaxed than he had in his own home. Mr Klein was far more pragmatic and matter-of-fact than his own parents. Helped by the rum and encouraged by Daniel, he opened up and spoke of his relationship with Daniel.

            – I hope you won’t be shocked but Daniel and I are lovers.

            – Dear boy, that was obvious when you walked through the door.

            – Really?

            – I have been watching you all evening. You look at each other as lovers do. I was young once, remember. Of course, I loved Daniel’s mother but I recognise the feeling.

            – And you don’t mind?

            – Mind? Why should I mind? You are free men, both equipped with very stylish steel hooks and understand each other deeply. And you are together, looking at each other for far longer than men customarily do. Of course it’s obvious. I’m pleased for you. It’s not easy being a double amputee and finding a lover. I don’t mind that you are both young men in love. It’s quite natural, I think.

            – Thank you for being so understanding, father. Jüri – I have something I want to ask you. Will you marry me? Will you be my husband?

Jüri stared at him in wonder. Daniel and Herr Klein looked at his face.

            – Yes. Yes, I’ll be your husband.

            – Oh, excellent! Congratulations, you two.

Jüri and Daniel clasped their prosthetic arms around each other and kissed. Klein Senior looked away, grinning. What a turn up for the books!

            – I would suggest we drink to that but since that seems superfluous, would anyone like another?

He made three fresh drinks. Jüri and Daniel were sitting together holding hooks. Jüri disengaged his and picked up his glass.

            – To us and the future. Prosit!

 

Jüri and Daniel returned to Tartu after a three week tour of northern Europe. They married in the Council HQ of Tartu municipality in the presence of friends from uni and spent a dirty weekend in Tallinn as their honeymoon. At the end of the school year, both of them were awarded their diplomas entitling them to place letters after their names. They tarried in Estonia until Daniel’s research into the German nuclear industry found positions for them near Hamburg. They went together for interviews and were taken onto a team specialising in accident prevention. They returned to Tartu to finalise their affairs and say goodbye to their friends before moving in to a new apartment in Hamburg.

 

They settled into their work and their shared lives. A note from his mother informed Jüri that Russell had passed away due to a heart attack while he was out shopping. Daniel suggested they become fathers by adopting a child. They searched for several months until they discovered a five year old boy in Ukraine who had lost four limbs to meningitis. They arranged for a long weekend and travelled to Kiev to meet the boy. He sat in a wheelchair, waggling his short below knee stumps and waving his below elbow stumps at them in welcome. He laughed and hugged them and the men fell in love with their son immediately.

 

Back in Hamburg, the boy, now called Alex instead of Aleksei, received expert prosthetic care and was soon running about on artificial legs, waving his first ever pair of prosthetic arms terminating in steel hooks, just like his daddies had. The next generation had arrived.

 

THE  RIPPLE  EFFECT