The Heat of Dew

 

T H E   H E A T   O F   D E W

 

A disturbing story of avoidable maiming by strzeka

 

Douglas and Dillon met each other when they started at kindergarten in early two thousand. They had both had their fourth birthdays in December and their devoted but exasperated mothers were relieved at having a brief daily respite from their beautiful young sons. They were both frequently referred to as handfuls. They were inquisitive, explorative daredevils. Douglas quickly attracted his teacher’s attention by hanging upside down by his ankles from the top bar of the playground jungle jim. She watched in horror and rushed across to lift him down. Dillon watched in admiration and decided he would try it too before the day was out.

 

There were twenty children in the playclass. They settled down as the morning wore on, happy to be in a new place and meeting other people their own age. One of the first things they did was Plasticine. Douglas fashioned himself a pair of fangs which made Evelyn cry in fright but Dillon thought they looked really funny and made himself a pair. The teacher did not notice until almost lunchtime when an unusual amount of giggling from the boys alerted her. Douglas and Dillon were trying to bite the neck of a teddybear with their fangs. She took the Plasticine fangs away, saying they might be dirty and they shouldn’t put Plasticine in their mouths. The boys were a little crestfallen and were united in adversity from that moment forward.

 

Two years later, they were in the second year of primary school and were getting down to the serious business of learning to read and write. Both of the boys could already do that anyway so it was easy. Douglas whispered to Dillon when the teacher’s back was turned.

            – Do you want to play car chicken on the way home?

            – Alright.

Car chicken was a new game Dillon had invented. They would wait behind the bushes on the corner until they could hear a car coming and then dash into the road to see if the car could stop in time before it hit them. They had been playing it for a couple of weeks, just a few times. Maybe three times. Dillon was winning because the last car had actually stopped only one step away from him. Douglas’s cars had all stopped much further away and he wanted to catch up.

 

School finished at three o’clock and the pupils put their coats on and waited for the teacher to give them permission.

            – Is everyone ready? Very good. I’ll see you all again tomorrow. Goodbye, children.

Douglas and Dillon skipped down to their hiding spot and looked at the traffic. It was still quiet, not many cars about. They hunkered down beside the hedge and tried to decide whose turn it would be first. Douglas won by holding his breath for the longest and he peeked around the corner to see if there was a car coming. There was. He waited long enough so that the engine noise was even and when it reached the lamppost, he ran into the road facing the car. The driver saw him running and braked, coming to a stop five yards away. The driver shouted something, using some bad words. Douglas walked back behind the hedge.

            – That wasn’t a very good one. She stopped miles away. OK. My turn. Let me see if there’s one coming.

They listened carefully again. The next car was much louder. It was a yellow sports car, very flat. Dillon tensed, waiting for the perfect moment, and dashed into the road. Two seconds later, the car struck him and his right leg somehow entered the wheel well of the car. It became caught in the spinning tyre. The driver braked after the collision and jumped out. Dillon was too shocked by pain to utter a sound. The driver spun around in desperation and seeing nothing useful, called emergency services. Douglas could see his friend lying in the road and crept out from behind the hedge to look at what happened. The driver saw him and screamed.

            – Stay there! Don’t come any farther! Stop!

He sounded like he really meant it. He was calling for an ambulance and for the police. Douglas was still confused. Was Dillon going to the hospital? What had happened?

 

Dillon’s femur had been splintered and a shard had ruptured an artery. His shin was pulverised. He was bleeding internally and there was more blood on the road.

 

The police came just before the ambulance and a police lady asked Douglas if he knew the other little boy. Douglas said he was his best friend and pointed to Dillon’s satchel when she asked if he knew where Dillon lived. All the children’s satchels and bags had their home addresses and contact numbers inside. She looked at Douglas’s bag too and Douglas had a ride home in a police car before they continued to Dillon’s address to announce the distressing news. The police took Mrs Stevens, Dillon’s mother, to the hospital to be near her son.

 

Two doctors were examining Dillon’s limb.

            – That will have to come off.

            – If only to repair the artery soonest. Yes, I agree.

Mrs Stevens had the unsavoury duty of signing a release for a surgeon to perform the amputation of her six year old son’s right leg. After smoothing the end of the dislocated femur and reinserting it back into its socket, the surgeon produced a two inch long stump. With luck, the femoral stump would grow at the same rate as the boy’s remaining leg.

 

Douglas was miserable because Dillon had been hurt but he did not cry. His mum cuddled him when they were watching tv and asked him if he was upset. She said he could stay home from school until next Monday if he did not feel well in the morning. She gave him a big kiss at bedtime and said not to worry about Dillon. The doctors would make him better.

 

Dillon’s own parents were both shocked and upset about the accident. The police had assured them that they would be investigating the circumstances of the accident. Dillon’s father was more pragmatic about his son’s future. His own older brother, Dillon’s uncle, had been an amputee for several years after a motorcycle accident had caused the loss of his left leg below the knee. In the days to come, he would remind his wife of how his brother had recovered and continued as normal. Hardly anyone realised he was missing a leg unless he told them. Dillon would be OK. He was alive and well in every other way. Mrs Stevens gradually came to the same conclusion and the realisation helped her own mental state.

 

The one-legged Dillon arrived back at school five weeks later on wooden crutches. His classmates were amazed. Some wanted to know if the leg would grow back and what they did with it and if they could have a go on his crutches. Dillon’s stump was still bandaged to shape it and to prevent it being knocked. He had permission from the teacher to stay inside when the others were doing sport.

 

Four months after the incident, Dillon was fitted with his first artificial leg. It was an aluminium strut with an approximate cosmetic covering and a rubber foot that he could put his school shoe on. Dillon had to limp when he walked but at least he no longer needed his crutches. All the boys said it looked really cool and they liked to feel how hard it was and the sound it made when you hit it with the edge of a ruler.

 

Despite his injury, Dillon lost none of his bravado. He and Douglas were still the best of mates. They no longer played car chicken, although both of them agreed that Dillon had won that particular game.

 

A DECADE LATER

 

Douglas got a drone for Christmas after promising his parents that he would be careful flying it. The neighbours would be annoyed if they saw it buzzing around their gardens, for example. Douglas promised not to fly it on the street. He could take it down the park and fly it there, away from the trees. It was a good size, about eight inches wide, with six propellors. It was radio controlled by a handset with a joystick. Douglas practised flying it in his bedroom until he got the knack and announced he wanted to go round to Dillon’s to show it off.

            – Don’t be late back for lunch, Douglas.

            – No, OK.

Dillon had received a couple of new video games but was already bored with them. He was in the living room and noticed Douglas approaching. He hopped to the front door to let his friend in.

            – Hiya! Did they kick you out?

            – No, nothing like that. Do you want to come down the park and watch my new drone?

            – No, not really. What else have you got?

            – Come on, Dillon. Don’t play hard to get.

            – Only joking. Let me get my leg on. Mum! I’m going down the park with Douglas!

            – Alright. Lunch at one.

Dillon pulled his sweatpants down and hopped across to where his leg stood by the Christmas tree.. He took the liner and a couple of stump socks out of the shallow socket and put them on his three inch stump. He held onto the artificial leg, placed his stump into its socket and secured the belt around his waist. He sat to put his sweatpants and tennis shoes on and pulled his hood up over his head.

            – Ready. Let’s go.

The two boys left the Stevens’ home and turned toward the parkland a quarter mile away. Dillon was interested to see what the drone could actually do. He strode along with his hands in his hoodie, limping with the distinctive gait of a leg amputee with a lot of prosthesis and not much stump. Despite his disability, Dillon could run after a fashion and enjoyed a game of football.

 

Douglas took the drone and controller out of their case and checked them over. The drone stood on a tripod of spindly metal legs and Douglas placed it on top of the case. He showed the controller to Dillon and pressed the start button. The propellors whirled and the drone leapt skyward. Douglas guided it around the park, flew it away and back and let it hover above their heads.

            – Can I have a go? It works from the joystick, right?

            – Yeah. Take it easy. It’s sensitive.

Dillon took the controller and gently guided the drone back and forth.

            – How do you make it go up and down?

            – Push the stick forward for up and pull it back for down.

            – OK.

The drone shot up and over towards a electricity supply pylon.

            – Careful!  Don’t let it go near the power cables.

            – Sorry. Accident.

Dillon brought the drone back. It flew steadily and he parked it, hovering ten feet above them. Douglas took the controller back and they walked across the grass with the drone leading the way.

            – What else did you get for Christmas?

            – Pair of tennis shoes, coupla books. Not much, really. When you have a birthday in December too, Christmas isn’t all that.

            – Yeah, I know. Best thing I got this year is this new leg. It’s lighter than the old one and I can adjust the length on this. It should do me for a couple of years at least.

            – Do you mind having a fake leg? Does it bother you?

            – No, not really. I’m used to it by now. I don’t really remember what it was like to have two.

The drone suddenly rose diagonally and they lost sight of it against the sky.

            – What the hell! It’s not obeying.

It reappeared about a hundred yards away, dropping quickly. It landed heavily on the roof of a substation near the foot of the electricity pylon and behind a high metal fence.

            – Fuck!

They walked across to the substation. The drone was just visible, resting near the edge of the flat roof.

            – I’m going in to get that. I reckon I can knock it down with something. Find a stick somewhere.

            – Look in there. There’s a broom in the grass.

The head of a broom poked out of the dew-soaked grass by the substation.

            – Great! I’ll use that. Will you give me a bunk up?

Dillon spread his legs and leaned on his prosthesis. It was sturdy, perfect for helping Douglas scale the fence. He bent his knee and Douglas stepped on it to reach the top of the fence. Dillon pushed him from below and Douglas balanced on top of the fence, and carefully pushed himself off, landing squarely on both feet. He grinned through the fence at his mate.

            – Don’t go anywhere.

He turned and waded through the long wet grass to where the broom lay. He bent to grab its handle. There was a brilliant blue flash and a loud bang as thirty-seven kilovolts coursed through Douglas’s arms. He was thrown back ten feet and landed unconscious on his back with his head pointing toward Dillon who stood gaping at his friend before realising that he ought to summon help. He looked around at the empty park in panic. He took his phone out and called the emergency number.

            

Within minutes, all three services were present. Two firemen cut a wide hole in the fence railings while two medics waited impatiently for access to the unconscious boy. Dillon was led away and sat in the back of a police car, stammering his explanation of how and why Douglas was injured.

            – Are you hurt, son? I noticed you limping.

            – No, I’m not hurt. I have an artificial leg, that’s all.

            – Oh! I see.

The medics gained access and, wearing protective thick rubber gloves, moved Douglas onto a stretcher which they carried into the back of an ambulance. The firemen departed. A policeman waited by the ambulance for an initial report on the boy’s condition. Douglas’s hoodie had been cut off, revealing severe burns and blackened tissue up his arms. His hands were charred claws.

            – This one is going to lose his arms. Difficult to say to what extent. I wouldn’t tell the parents yet if I were you, officer. Say his injuries are being evaluated, you know. A doctor can better explain the situation.

            – Right-oh, will do. What hospital are you taking him to?

            – St Mary’s. Tell the parents that someone will contact them when the boy revives and not to try to visit before then. He’s in good hands and all that. You know the script.

            – I do, unfortunately. Is he going to be alright otherwise?

            – Difficult to say. An electric shock like that can muck up your innards but he seems to be breathing steadily and his heart rate is normal enough.

            – Alright, thanks. We’d better get round to the parents.

The car left the scene and shortly the ambulance departed for St Mary’s Hospital.

 

Dillon was driven home. A policewoman briefly explained the situation to Mrs Stevens and returned to the car. Dillon was still bewildered and afraid he was going to be in trouble. His mum made him sit in the kitchen while she made them a cup of tea. She had a flashback to when Dillon himself had been hospitalised and felt rising anxiety. The sensation of helplessness was the worst. Dillon was not feeling up to an interrogation. He was reliving the moment when he caught sight of Douglas’s hands.

 

A team of consultants evaluated the damage to Douglas’s arms and reluctantly agreed that his elbow joints were beyond saving. Both arms were amputated four inches below his shoulders where there was sufficient healthy tissue to create viable stumps. Douglas slept on and was kept in coma for the following four days. His parents were informed late on the first evening of the amputations and requested to wait for permission to visit their son for whom everything possible was being done. His condition was stable and there seemed to be no internal injuries. He would pull through.

 

Mr and Mrs Lewis, Douglas’s parents, were both distraught because of the shocking turn of events. Douglas was not. He was gradually withdrawn from his medically induced coma and informed by a psychiatric nurse of the extent of his injuries. He was more intrigued than shocked. He had never seen anyone with an arm stump before, let alone two, although he had seen a couple of films featuring arm amputees who wore prosthetic hands or steel hooks. He supposed he would be wearing two. He tried to imagine himself like that but it was difficult.

 

His parents were allowed to visit on the fourth evening after the accident. Douglas was sitting up in bed with his heavily bandaged stumps visible. He tried not to move them too much because they were sore. Mrs Lewis was relieved to see that he was not in serious pain. They had both agreed to maintain a brave face in front of Douglas. Any emotional outbursts would have to wait until they returned home. There was little to talk about. Douglas had no memory after arriving at the park with Dillon. Then he had woken up without his arms. Nothing in between.

 

The cause of the accident was already being investigated by the power company, mainly because of the unexpected financial penalty due to the temporary loss of a significant substation. Despite the fact that Douglas had been trespassing, it was indisputable that the kind of incompetence which had maimed the boy should not have been possible under any circumstances. Any qualified worker on official business would also have faced an identical risk. The power company’s legal department advised management that they should prepare to pay a sizable sum in compensation, although the case might drag on for many months.

 

Dillon dropped in one evening after school. The class had made a get-well-soon card, signed by everyone and featuring various smilies and suggestive doodles. Dillon held it for Douglas to read, sniggering at some of the comments. Dillon was curious to know what it was like to have arm stumps. Douglas said it was still too early to tell. He had only seen them a couple of times when his compression bandages were changed.

 

On the twenty-eighth day after arriving, Douglas was wheeled to a workshop on the third floor to meet Dr Ashley Gill who would be making his first pair of prosthetic arms. Gill introduced himself and appraised the fresh bilateral stumps. The patient was calm and interested in his prospects. Gill showed him a variety of options available to him, various colours for the sockets, different kinds of harness and a selection of hooks and artificial hands, of which he could select two pairs. Douglas was relieved to hear that his stumps were long enough to allow a wide range of motion for his new arms and that if he was diligent and persisted with his exercises, he would be a proficient hook user by this time next year. It settled one question which had been niggling at his mind—in future, he would be having hooks instead of hands.

 

Gill casted Douglas’s stumps in order to create a mould for the sockets. They planned the general appearance of the sockets. Douglas was content with the pseudo flesh colour for his first pair and chose one pair of matching hooks and one each of two other kinds. One was a so-called farmer’s hook and the other was a better shape than the standard hook for gripping cylindrical objects like bottles and jars. Gill understood Douglas’s growing frustration and promised to make the new arms as a priority job. He ordered the outside components before thanking Douglas for his company and dismissing him. A nurse collected him and they returned to the ward.

 

The session with his prosthetist had improved Douglas’s mood considerably. Both his parents and Dillon were impressed by his enthusiasm for his artificial arms, which might be ready in about a week if Dr Gill was to be believed. His test sockets would be ready the day after tomorrow and then it was simply a matter of assembling the pieces. Douglas’s innocent naïveté was touching but his improved mood came as a relief to his parents. Dillon dropped by.

            – Hello Dillon! It’s good to see you. It’s good of you to come and see Douglas so often. We’re very grateful.

            – That’s alright. Us amputees like to stick together, don’t we, mate?

            – What an awful coincidence it is. Well, I expect you’d like some time to yourselves so we’ll leave you to it.

Mrs Lewis leaned across the bed to kiss her son’s forehead and her husband escorted her away. Dillon waved to them on Douglas’s behalf as they reached the end of the ward.

            – So did you get plastered today?

            – Yup. He was very impressed with my stumps. Good range of motion, or something. And then we picked out a bunch of hooks. You should see them! They look really cool.

            – So when will you have your arms?

            – About a week or so.

            – Great! After they chuck you out of here, we’ll go out for hamburgers with the crowd from school and you can show them off.

            – Can’t wait. I really want to get my hooks. This waiting around is pissing me off.

            – I suppose so. Stick it out, mate. Only a few more days and then it’s over. You won’t ever need to be back in hospital after that.

            – So how are you? Anything new?

            – Nothing much. I think I’ve sprained my knee or something. It’s sort of achy.

            – Which knee?

            – Ha! The meat one.

            – Have it off. The other one doesn’t hurt, does it?

 

            – He looked much more cheerful today, don’t you think?

Douglas’s parents were home relaxing with a bottle of wine. Mrs Lewis found it relaxed her mind and helped her sleep. Since Douglas’s accident, she had made sure to keep a good supply of at least half a dozen bottles in the house.

            – Yes, I think he did. He must be excited about getting his new arms. If the doctor keeps his word, he might have them in a few days and then he’ll be home with us.

            – He’s going to need a lot of nursing, isn’t he?

            – Yes, I expect so. At first. But he’ll be learning how to use his arms and able to do more for himself. It won’t be like nursing someone who is ill, will it? And you know how determined he can be.

            – No. Oh, I hate the idea of Dougie being so disabled.

            – Don’t fret yourself. We have to give him a chance, love. Let him show us what he can do before we start calling him disabled.

 

Mr Lewis was aware of a considerable dichotomy. He had never mentioned it to his wife, nor indeed to anyone, but he had enjoyed a sexual fetish for amputees since his early teens, especially for adult male arm amputees wearing hooks. Now his own son would be returning wearing a pair of the devices which had never failed to inspire an erection. The mental image of a man wielding a pair of steel hooks always accompanied his onanism. He hoped that the familiarity of seeing Douglas wearing hard, rigid artificial arms with hooks would help to lessen the eroticism but was anxious that he would eventually shame himself in front of his wife of twenty years and his teenage amputee son. He drained his glass and poured more wine for them both.

 

Ashley Gill wanted the Lewis boy fitted and discharged as soon as possible. He had booked a holiday in Mauritius for the end of next week with his lover. He did not want to forego the billing he could charge the medical authorities for a completed and signed-off set of prostheses. He called his friend to announce that he would be late in order to clear up some of his outstanding work. That evening he worked until ten thirty and left only when the positive moulds for Douglas’s sockets were drying on his workbench.

 

Next morning, he continued with the next phase. He used the fresh moulds to make the sockets into which Douglas’s stumps would fit and to which the lower arms would connect at the mechanical elbow. Fortunately there were no patients booked during the morning and he was able to create two sockets which would need to cure for a few hours before they could be tested. If Douglas was happy with the fit, Gill could continue. In the meantime, he collected a canvas harness, and a pair each of elbow mechanisms, standard cylindrical forearms, Hosmer Five hooks and the associated cabling. The forearms were a few centimetres shorter than Douglas’s natural arms had been. The benefit for bilateral patients was the reduced weight and the more intimate range of motion. Instead of reaching to mid-thigh like his hands, Douglas’s hooks would reach only to his hips.

 

Dillon woke early. His leg was painful, as if someone had kicked him. He sat up in bed and ran his fingers back and forth around his knee. He could not feel anything and its appearance was normal. He looked at the clock and decided not to attempt sleeping for another forty minutes. He donned his prosthetic leg, put a shoe on his foot and went to the bathroom. Standing was uncomfortable and he leaned on his stump.

 

Douglas was awake and had also visited the bathroom. A male nurse stood by to clean him. After nearly a month, Douglas was no longer embarrassed by someone else having to do intimate things for him. There was one thing the nurses were not allowed to do and Douglas was becoming desperate for a wank. He really hoped his hooks would be up to the task. Breakfast was on its way and Douglas killed the time by reading the latest news and checking his social media sites using a stylus held between his teeth. He had to sit at a table in the common room to use his phone. None of the other patients were anywhere near his own age and they mostly left him alone. They also found it difficult to know what to say to a handsome young man whose sleeves hung empty.

 

Gill was becoming as impatient as Douglas. After lunch, he checked that the sockets were hard enough to work on. The rims needed sanding and smoothing. He tested one in the grinder and it seemed resistant to fraying so he shaped the edges, sanded them round and polished the result. He was satisfied so far. He called the ward nurse and asked him to bring Douglas to the prosthetics lab for a fitting. Five minutes later, Douglas was wheeled in and saw his new upper arm sockets for the first time.

            – I want you to try these on and wear them for a few minutes to see if they are comfortable.

He rolled a liner onto each of Douglas’s stumps. He had decided a pin lock suspension to hold the arms on was best for the first pair. The sockets would not work loose and Douglas could concentrate on learning to use his arms. He picked up the right socket and gently pushed it onto the stump. The pin was not yet in place and in any case the elbow joint into which it locked was still missing. The socket was a tight fit, as intended.

            – How does that feel? Tell me if it’s pinching or squeezing in one spot.

            – No, it feels fine.

Douglas wagged his stump. The socket stayed in place.

            – Let’s try the other arm. Hold your stump out and I’ll put the liner on.

Douglas looked at his pink resin sockets and moved them around. He could clack them together across his chest.

            – How long before the arms are ready? I’m sorry! I don’t mean to sound rude or impatient.

            – No, don’t worry, Douglas. Believe me, I understand completely. You’ve had a very frustrating time of it and you’ve been a model patient. We’ll miss you after you leave but of course everyone is pleased that you’re able to return to normal life.

That was the one thing Douglas would not be returning to but he understood the sentiment.

            – With any luck, I think I can promise you that you will be wearing your hooks for Friday lunch.

            – Great!

            – As you can see, there’s still quite a lot of work to do yet and you’ll have to come in to test them a few times before I can let you have them but if you’re satisfied that the sockets fit correctly, I’ll use them to make your arms.

            – They feel fine. They don’t feel as if they could fall off.

            – No. They won’t fall off. There’ll be a locking system to prevent that but you’ll see that later on. If you’re sure, I’ll carry on.

Douglas looked at the sockets again and smiled at Gill. He nodded and Gill carefully removed the sockets and rolled the liners off. Douglas sat back in his wheelchair and Gill took him to the ward himself.

 

Douglas was excited to know that he would be out by the end of the week. But a thought occurred to him. How was he going to put the liners on himself? He sat cross-legged on his bed and looked at his stumps. They were still a surprising sight but they were not unpleasant. He could still feel his fingers too, which was the strangest thing.

 

Dillon was getting fed up with the pain in his leg. He had walked to school and by the time he arrived, he felt that his prosthetic leg was the stronger and more reliable. There was less pain when he was sitting during the lessons. He was not sure if he should say something about it to someone or just keep quiet and hope it went away. He stood around with his mates at break time trying to keep the weight off his leg.

 

Gill had a patient in the afternoon. The lady had brought a leg prosthesis in for adjustment and much of the afternoon went in time-consuming microalterations. At last she was satisfied, as she had every right to be, and Gill returned to manufacturing Douglas’s arms. He attached the elbow mechanisms to the sockets and checked that the off-the-shelf forearms could move unimpeded. The next job was to rivet the steel fittings which would hold the sockets to the harness and the cables along the arm for the elbow and hook control. It was a simple enough job but it demanded concentration and careful alignment. The arms were ready for cabling and attachment to the harness by eight o’clock in the evening and Gill arranged the components neatly on his workbench to continue the next day. He was pleased to have progressed so far. The boy could come for his first fitting after another two or three hours work. Gill turned off the lights and went home.

 

Dillon had arrived at six to see Douglas. Mrs Lewis was there with him, alone. Douglas was wearing a T-shirt and jeans instead of the usual ugly hospital pyjamas and looked almost normal. He gesticulated with his stumps as he talked. His mum found it distracting and discomfiting but she assumed it was a sign her boy was coming to terms with his appalling injuries. Dillon was not so squeamish. He was looking forward to seeing Douglas’s prosthetics almost as much as Douglas himself. The ends of Douglas’s stumps barely poked out from the sleeves of his T-shirt.

            – Hello Dillon. Come and join us. I was just telling Douglas about going back to school.

            – Yeah. Guess what. I’m going to be going to a sixth form college for the disabled in – where was it again?

            – Langley. It’s near Slough.

            – The reason being that I probably won’t be able to handle normal school life for a while and they have the facilities to let me study without having to take a lot of notes and stuff.

            – Oh. So you won’t be coming back to school, then?

            – Nope. I’m finished there.

Dillon looked very disappointed.

            – I’m sorry, Dillon. I know how close you and Douglas have always been and I know you’re going to miss him but he’ll be home every weekend.

            – Is it a boarding school? You’ll be away all week every week?

            – Yeah. I’ll have my own little flat and get all my meals there.

            – Actually, Douglas, you’ll be sharing with another boy but I don’t know any more than that. All the students have flatmates so they can help each other.

            – That sounds kind of cool. Can I come and visit?

            – Yes, there’s a big communal area and quiet rooms where parents and friends can meet the students and you can visit any time between five and ten in the evening.

            – I don’t know where it is. How do you get to Langley?

            – All the Lizzie line trains stop there. It’s one station before Slough and the school is about five minutes walk.

            – Or ten if you have a wooden leg.

            – Yes, sorry Dillon. About ten minutes. It’s not far. We’ll take you one evening so you know how to find it.

            – Thanks. That would be good. So when do you start there?

            – Right after the Easter holidays are over.

            – That’s if the doctors give you permission, Douglas.

            – I don’t see why they wouldn’t. I’m not ill or anything, am I?

            – No, of course not.

Mrs Lewis looked at Douglas’s earnest face and at the two pathetic stumps.

            – And the other fun thing is that I’ll probably have my arms by lunchtime on Friday. Then I have about five hours of training and then they throw me out.

            – Don’t be so dramatic, Douglas. No-one is throwing you out. And we’ll come and collect you.

            – Great! Shall we have those hamburgers on Saturday?

            – Yeah! Come and pick me up and if you want, I’ll let you feed me.

            – Douglas!

            – Well, why not?

            – I’ll feed you, mate. We’ll all help.

 

Gill had packed his bags for his trip and was in a very good mood when he arrived one hour early on Friday morning. He grabbed a coffee and croissant on the way and set to work immediately on the artificial arms. By ten thirty, they were assembled and needed only adjustment. He called in at Douglas’s ward and notified the nurse on duty that he was taking the boy for his first fitting. He pointed at the wheelchair and Douglas hopped in. It was a ridiculous way of going fifty metres but all medical movements had to be under hospital control.

            – Are you ready? Looking forward to trying them out?

            – What do you think? Of course I am.

            – I thought you might be. We have to test them first and make sure they fit properly before I can let you have them but I can promise you that you’ll definitely have them today.

            – Great!

 

Douglas’s first prostheses rested on Gill’s workbench which he had cleared of surplus tools and other equipment.

            – There they are. I’ve put the matching pair of hooks on for the time being but you can try them all out once we get them adjusted. I’m going to take your shirt off, OK?

            – Go ahead.

Gill lifted it over Douglas’s head and put it on the bench. He rolled a pair of liners onto the stumps. They were now complete with the connecting pins which would lock the stumps to the sockets. He picked the arms up by their harness and asked Douglas to face him, stumps pointing forward. He arranged the straps on the harness and pushed the sockets on until a couple of clicks sounded. He gathered the harness and checked it before asking Douglas to bend his head forward. He worked the harness over the boy’s head until it lay flat across his upper back.

            – I want your stumps to be as deep into the sockets as possible. When you do this yourself, you can lean against the wall to push them on. Those clicks were the pin locking into the sockets.

He gently but firmly pushed the sockets further onto the stumps and another two clicks were heard.

            – That should be OK for the moment. How do your stumps feel?

            – Fine. The weight feels odd.

            – I expect so. I’m going to adjust the harness first. Turn around for me.

He adjusted several straps, ensuring that the harness was centred across the shoulders and that the straps holding the cables for elbow and hook operation were secure and taut. The top rims of the sockets were at the optimal height. Gill gripped Douglas by his shoulders and turned him around.

            – Do you want to take a look at yourself in the mirror? Go on! The arms won’t work yet so don’t try.

Douglas grinned and walked over to admire himself in the full-length mirror. The arms were thin and mechanical and the hooks looked menacing, pointing in random directions. The arms really were fairly short. Gill had told him they would be but it was different to actually see them. They would just about reach his dick. He returned to face Gill.

            – Let’s get the elbow cables working.

Gill took out a red felt tip pen and probed the lower cables. He asked Douglas to shrug his shoulders alternately. The forearms rose and fell.

            – Good. Now shrug your left shoulder and hold it. Is that as far as you can? Is it comfortable to do that? OK.

He made a mark on the cable with his pen.

            – Right. Now you need to take the arms off for me and I’ll adjust the elbow cables.

            – How do I do that?

            – First of all you have to release the pin lock so you can get your stumps out of the sockets. There are steel tabs on the elbow mechanisms facing inwards. Can you see? You need to press them in. They can be a bit stiff sometimes so they need a good knock.

            – How do I do that?

            – With your hooks. Lock your elbows at ninety degrees and use the hooks to tap against the tab until it disengages. Don’t worry! I’ll do it for you this time. There. It might be better if you sat down to do this. You can put the forearms between your knees to hold them and then you can pull the stumps free. But before you can even do that, you have to get the harness off your back, over your head and across your chest. Can you do that for me? Bend your head, lift your stumps up and wriggle the harness up and over your head.

            – It’s complicated, isn’t it?

            – Yes, I suppose it is. You’ll soon get used to it. You’ll soon be a pro, don’t worry.

The harness suddenly flicked forward across Douglas’s chest.

            – Pull the sockets off. That’s it.

Gill picked the prostheses up and grinned at Douglas who was looking bemused.

            – Don’t worry. It gets easier. Stay there. Shan’t be a minute.

Gill went to his workbench and adjusted the lower limit of each elbow cable’s movement. Having altered their length, he needed to readjust the length of the straps by the same amount. A few minutes later, he brought the arms back.

            – Sit at the table and you can try putting these back on.

Gill laid the prostheses in front of Douglas and arranged the straps neatly. He explained how Douglas should feed his stumps between the separate straps which controlled his elbows and his hooks. He should pay attention to which way the straps were facing. Next he could don the sockets and then lift the harness over his head. Douglas said he understood.

            – Go ahead and try. It’s a little awkward but you will get used to it, Douglas.

Douglas leaned close to the table and poked at the straps with his right stump. He would like to pick them up to make it easier but he could not. After a short struggle, the straps slipped onto his stump and he lifted it to shrug the straps closer to his shoulder. He tried the same with the left stump which was easier to do now that he could lift the straps slightly with his right stump.

            – Good! Now the sockets. Make sure they’re facing the right way too. If you stand up, you can push into them more easily. Keep pushing until you hear three clicks. Right. And if you can put the harness over your head, we can adjust the cables for your hooks.

Douglas lifted his artificial arms, ducked his head and spread his arms so the harness dropped and tightened across his back. He instinctively shrugged a few times to straighten it and looked at Gill for more instruction.

            – It looks like you’ve got that down pat. Good. Now the fun bit. The next job is to adjust the cables which lead to your hooks. Will you shrug your shoulders like before? I want to check something.

Douglas did so and his forearms moved.

            – OK. Now how are you going to operate your hooks? Well, in exactly the same way. By shrugging your shoulders. Give it a try.

Douglas willed his hooks to open but succeeded only in lifting his forearms.

            – Obviously that’s not going to work. There’s something you have to do first to switch the movement from moving your forearms to opening your hooks. You have to lift your stumps out to the side and jerk them back a little. That locks the elbows in position so the next time you shrug your shoulders, your hooks will open. Give it a try. Lift your arm out to the side and jerk it back, like you were nudging someone. That’s it. Now shrug your left shoulder.

Douglas opened his right hook for the first time. There was a good deal of slack cable which could be adjusted on the right arm.

            – Try the left arm now. Did you switch to use the hook? Try it. Yes, you need to switch. Lift and jerk. Good. And now the hook. They’re both a bit loose. Hang on while I make a few markings.

Gill pulled the cable taut while the hooks were closed and marked the cables. He shortened the cable guide a couple of centimetres and altered the cable straps on the harness.

            – Give it another go. What we’re aiming for here is for movement in the hook as soon as you move your shoulder. There mustn’t be any slack but it mustn’t feel restrictive either. Stand up and relax your stumps. Can you straighten your arms for me first? Lift to the side and jerk. That’s it. Just let them hang by your side. Now, can you sort of push down with your stumps?

Gill eyed the hooks closely as Douglas lowered his shoulders. He wanted the hooks to remain closed without Douglas needing to strain his shoulders. The hooks were closed and Gill plucked the cables to test how much play there was along the forearms. He was satisfied that the hook cables were approximately correct. The patient himself would be the best judge but it would be several weeks before Douglas had enough experience to know when more adjustment was needed. Gill positioned both hooks so that the fingers pointed inwards towards each other and the thumbs holding the cables were pointing forward.

            – How are you feeling?

            – Fine. A bit bewildered.

            – This is all new to you so it’s bound to feel a bit odd at first. I want to check your harness again after making those adjustments. Turn around for me and relax your shoulders.

He shortened the hook cable straps by another centimetre, checked the elbow cables again and made sure the harness was properly centred. He glanced at the clock. Midday.

            – Remember I told you that you’d have your arms by Friday lunchtime? Well, it’s lunchtime now. Shall we go to the canteen and have something to eat?

            – You mean wearing these? Really?

            – Why not? They’re your arms. Let me put your shirt back on.

Gill dressed Douglas. The T-shirt hid the harness but the artificial arms were bare for most of their length. Douglas walked across to the mirror and appraised himself again. The hooks hung next to the waist of his jeans. The arms looked alien. Their shortness was intriguing in addition to the shock of hooks instead of hands on both sides. Douglas was fascinated by the change in his appearance and excited at having some kind of replacement for his ruined hands. They left the lab and walked to the canteen.

            – I don’t suppose you’ve had normal food since you got here, have you?

            – No. Just the hospital stuff.

            – Actually, the food here isn’t too bad. Better than the school dinners we used to have. You know, mystery meat, potatoes with rotten centres, pasta with no salt.

            – Was it really that bad?

            – Oh yes. Not every day but fairly often. There’s another reason I wanted to take you to lunch today, of course. You can probably guess.

            – To see if I can use my arms to eat?

            – Yes, exactly. More specifically, I want to see if your arms will function so that you can feed yourself. I don’t expect you to manage it straight away but I’m interested to see how well you do.

            – I’ll give it a try.

            – How do your arms feel? Is the harness too tight?

            – No, everything feels fine. It’s strange to have the weight on my shoulders but I dare say I’ll get used to that.

            – You will. I tried to keep the weight down. Those are your first pair, Douglas. I’ve intentionally left out some of the bells and whistles which more advanced prostheses sometimes have. I want you to learn to use a basic pair first and when you have some experience of how they work and what you would like to be able to do, we can design your next pair with more functions.

            – What sort of thing do you mean?

            – Well, articulating wrists which spin the hook ninety degrees, for example, or a wrist which tilts the hooks inwards. Some users are able to use them to handle buttons. OK. What would you like for lunch? Fish and chips? Bangers and mash?

            – Bangers, please!

            – Right. Sit down over there and I’ll bring it over.

Douglas found an empty table and sat down. His arms hung straight. He wanted to put the forearms on the table. He shrugged his shoulders to lift them but the hooks opened instead. He lifted his stumps out to the side and jerked each arm back sharply. The next time he shrugged, he raised the forearms and rested them in front of him on the table. They were still unlocked but it wasn’t important just yet. A teenager with a long casted leg sitting nearby watched him, fascinated by his movements but not understanding the reason for them.

            – Don’t stare, dear. It’s not nice. What are you looking at? Oh, good heavens!

Douglas noticed the boy and his mum watching him and raised his eyebrows in greeting. He smiled and looked down at his hooks. The boy squirmed in his seat to make room for a throbbing erection, the inevitable result of seeing an amputee. He would love to get to know the guy. If only his mum would go. It would be incredible to have a friend who wore two hooks. They could be disabled together. When he got his cast off, he was going to be faced with a fused knee and a leg shorter than the other. He would always need a heavy leg brace and a built-up boot. He was looking forward to being disabled, limping along on his rigid leg, carrying a walking stick at seventeen. Yeah, the pair of them would make a good couple.

 

Gill brought two plates of bangers and mash with peas. He put some cutlery on the table including a spoon.

            – There you are. Get stuck in. The first thing you need to do is to pick up a fork and position it so you can bring it to your mouth. So your arm has to be locked before you can operate the hooks. Then you lift and jerk to switch to operating the forearms and hope that the hook can grab some food. Shrug the opposite shoulder again to move the forearm. Is that logical?

            – Yeah, I suppose so.

            – Lock your arm. Now switch. Try picking the fork up. You need to spin it around first so the prongs face you. Just poke it a couple of times. That’s it.

Douglas succeeded only in pushing the fork further away from him. He changed his position and tried again, without luck.

            – I’ll help you.

Gill picked the fork up and held it so Douglas could close his hook on it.

            – Switch and you can control the forearm. Give it a go.

Douglas leaned closer to the plate and contorted his shoulders in an effort to get the fork into his lunch. The neighbouring boy watched him closely. His mother noticed his attention straying again and announced she was late for her next appointment and had to leave. The boy let her kiss him on the cheek and she left. Douglas had scooped some mash onto his fork but it fell off on the way to his mouth. Gill had seen all he needed, however, and was satisfied that the prostheses were up to the job.

            – OK Douglas, just relax. I’ll feed you. Cold food is not nice.

He took Douglas’s plate and cut the sausages into bite-sized pieces and offered a mouthful to Douglas. He alternated between feeding Douglas and eating his own lunch. Douglas still held his fork, forgotten. When there were only a few bites left, he had an idea.

            – Can I try with a spoon? Will you hold it for me?

            – Yes, I forgot, sorry. Try this.

Gill took the fork as Douglas released it and placed the spoon in an appropriate position. Douglas closed his hook on it and made another effort at feeding himself. This time the cold mash stayed on the spoon and he was able to tilt his head at a slight angle to get the spoon in his mouth. It was the first mouthful of food he had fed himself in many weeks.

            – Tadaa!

            – Good show Douglas. Do you want to continue? OK. Carry on.

By moving his whole body, Douglas managed to scrape up the rest of the food on his plate and ended by opening his hook over the plate. The spoon dropped with a clatter and he sat beaming at Gill. Not able to contain himself any longer, the boy with the leg cast applauded and grinned at Douglas.

            – Were you watching?

            – Yes, sorry.

            – Don’t be. Not bad for a beginner, right?

            – It was brilliant. You make it look easy. What ward are you in? Can I come and talk to you? There’s no-one on my ward under seventy.

            – I’m on the amputee ward. You know where it is? Well, drop by after four o’clock and we’ll have a chat but I’m off home today. Being discharged now I’ve got my arms.

            – Have you only just got them, then?

            – Yeah. About an hour ago.

            – Wow!

            – Sorry, but we have to leave you. Come on, Douglas. Let’s go back to the lab for some training.

            – I’ll see you later, er, Douglas. I’m Luke, by the way.

            – See you.

 

Gill asked Douglas to sit at the table and placed an array of children’s building blocks and an infant’s wooden jigsaw puzzle in front of him. Its pieces had small dowel knobs in their centre.

            – This is a bit tedious but it’s good practice and that’s what you need now. The more things you attempt, the sooner you’ll be proficient with your arms. Ask your parents and friends not to rush to help out if you can’t do something the first time. People want to help. It’s only natural. But you have to put your foot down and tell them to wait until you ask for help.

            – OK. That makes sense.

            – Now, I want you to make a tower of five building blocks for me. Go ahead.

Douglas tested his right arm to check what function it was switched to. His forearm rose and he reached across and placed his hook near a red wooden block. He lifted and jerked his stump and opened the hook and moved his body to position it over the block. The hooks closed and Douglas jerked the arm again. He lifted the block across to his left and leant over to place it on the table. He jerked and opened the hook. So it continued. Gill wanted Douglas to get a feel for the logic behind the prosthesis, how its function had to be checked and preselected. It was not an intuitive motion and it looked odd but gradually Douglas would hone the movements to the bare minimum and they would become second nature. He would be able to manipulate his hooks as he wanted without needing to plan every stage in advance. Slowly the tower grew. It was a childish thing to do but Douglas’s concentration was centred on operating his arm and hook. When it was ready, Douglas announced he needed to pee.

            – OK. I’ll come with you.

Gill walked by his bench and plucked a pair of thin neoprene gloves. The pair of them went to the wc. Gill opened Douglas’s flies and pulled out his penis. Douglas urinated and Gill dabbed the urethra with a sheet of toilet paper.

            – Test your reach, Douglas. Can you reach your genitals with your hooks?

Douglas demonstrated that the prostheses were long enough for him to hold his penis. Gill nodded and tucked the member back into Douglas’s underpants. Douglas himself was thinking of something else which involved touching his penis with hooks. He would definitely be practising it at home later.

Gill discarded the gloves and they went back to assemble a twelve piece jigsaw of a teddy bear. Douglas noticed how difficult it was to rotate the pieces. He used both hooks to turn the pieces before he could jerk an arm to pick one up and jerk again to move it and jerk again to open the hook. Gill watched as Douglas repeated his actions and thought the boy was learning. When the puzzle was complete, Gill congratulated him and broke it apart.

            – Sorry, Douglas. Would you do it again, please?

Douglas laughed and Gill grinned at him.

            – You’re doing great.

 

Douglas completed the jigsaw ten minutes faster than on the first attempt. Gill left the completed teddy bear smiling up from the table and fetched two new hooks from his workbench.

            – Let’s try these. You can see how the hooks are changed so you’ll be able to explain it to someone else. This is very difficult for a bilateral amputee to do so don’t worry if it seems too difficult. Ask someone to do it for you. Here’s a farmer’s hook for your right arm. I’ll put it on and you can test it and I’ll explain how it’s different from the standard hook.

Gill removed the cable from the right thumb and unscrewed the Hosmer Five. He replaced it with the farmer’s hook, mentioning how difficult it was to find the screw thread and how all body-operated hook users had problems when something needed rotating. The hook was in place and Gill reattached the cable.

            – Try it.

            – Oh, it’s much stiffer.

            – Yes, it’s supposed to be. It is really intended as heavy duty hook when you need to do something strenuous or when you don’t want to scratch your standard hook. This one is all steel and it has a ferocious grip. There are three rubber bands on it. I’ll show you how those are changed too before you leave. If ever someone wonders how strong the hook grips and asks you to close the hook on their finger, don’t do it. There will be blood.

            – Really?

            – Oh yes. This isn’t to be toyed with. It’s a real beast of a hook.

Gill used the tip of his red pen to point out the various features built in to the angular hook. He told Douglas to open the hook and inserted the pen deep into the wrist. The hook closed on it and held it firmly.

            – You might be able to use it to write with, Douglas. OK, open up.

He showed the indentations the hook had inflicted on the pen’s soft plastic.

            – See? You wouldn’t want your finger in there.

            – No chance of that.

            – No, there isn’t. OK. Let’s change the left hook and you can try that out.

It was a symmetrical hook with curved fingers. It closed firmly around cylindrical objects. Gill brought over a jam jar filled with small bolts.

            – Try lifting this.

Gill watched as Douglas repeated the motions which he had practised with his right arm. He knew the practical theory well enough but was not used to using the other shoulder. He lifted the jar and commented on its weight.

            – Yes, it must be about a kilo. So you can use that to lift a real jar of jam or a bottle of cola or a pint of beer. If you notice things slipping, you can add another rubber band. That has two on at the moment which should be enough. Let’s have a look at how to add a band.

There was an applicator and a bag of small rubber rings in a plastic bag in a drawer.

            – First of all, you drop one of the bands over the prongs and then squeeze the handles. The prongs stretch the band open and you work it along the hook, past the fingers and onto the wrist. Then it’s a bit of a struggle to remove the band from the prongs without pulling it off again. And Douglas, I can tell you now that you will never do this for yourself. So don’t be despondent when you try, as you surely will. It requires far more force than your hooks can generate. But do you understand it well enough to explain it to someone else? Good. It’s not rocket science, is it?

            – Where do I get the rubber bands from?

            – You can get them online. You can have this bagful. I’ve taken about ten to put on your four hooks and they should last you about six months. Usually it’s the outer band which gets brittle and starts fraying. Just have someone slice them off for you. They fly off with surprising speed and then you spend ten minutes looking for where they went. And you can have this applicator too. Well, I think you know everything in theory. Oh, did you know you can twist your hooks so the fingers point in various directions? You see your left hook is pointing up but I can turn it – like this – to point to the right. You can do that yourself if you put the hook into a crevice of some kind and twist your arm, which in your case means turning your body. Ask someone else to do it for you, if possible. So! Have you any questions about your arms?

            – Are they waterproof?

            – Yes. You can shower in them if you want. If they get wet with salt water, make sure to rinse them with fresh water before they dry. And talking of sunbathing at the beach, don’t let your stumps get sunburned. In fact, don’t let the sun get to them for more than a few minutes. If your stumps do get sore, for whatever reason, stop using the arm altogether until your stump is healed. It’s possible to remove either arm from the harness with a bit of patience and that’s something else better done by someone with nimble fingers. It’s very fiddly.

            – OK, I’ll remember to avoid the sun. What else? Where do I get extra hooks? Like if I want a farmer’s hook on the left too.

            – You can order hooks from here or you can probably find one online. Nothing wrong with a second hand hook if it’s in good condition. Well, young man. If you feel up to it, I’ll let you go now. I shan’t be here for the next three weeks but someone will be around to help if you need advice or anything else. We’re here to help, Douglas, so don’t be shy about calling.

Gill stood up and waited for Douglas to rise. He stuck out his hand and waited a few seconds while Douglas lifted his right stump, jerked it back and raised his forearm to meet Gill’s hand. They shook.

            – Good luck, Douglas. You’re doing well. You’ll be an expert when we meet again.

            – Thank you, Dr Gill.

            – Don’t forget these bands and your Hosmer Fives.

Douglas locked his forearm and carried the bands and applicator back to the amputee ward. The hooks were in his pocket. He should have been in a wheelchair really but no-one would say anything, probably. The nurse noticed his return and approached.

            – Hello, Douglas. I have the papers for your discharge here. They need signing. You can leave any time between now and tomorrow noon so you can stay overnight if necessary.

            – Oh, my parents are coming to collect me this evening.

            – Jolly good. You can ask one of them to sign, can’t you? After that, just leave the papers at reception if there’s no-one here when you go.

            – OK. I will. Can you do me a favour? Take the hooks out of my jeans pocket, please.

The nurse did so with a smile and left. Douglas thought about signing for the receipt of his prostheses and extra hooks and the other papers. Would he be able to write again? The only thing he could move were his short stumps. Surely writing anything was beyond him now. But he would give it a try. He would probably do better with a keyboard. He found his phone in his cupboard, turned it on and took it over to the table. The rounded tip of the farmer’s hook was ideal for tapping on the screen. It was much the same as using the stylus except now he could see what he was doing. He sent his mum a text message. hi this is the first thing ive written with my new hooks see u tonight i love you. dougie. She replied with a pulsing red heart emoji.

 

It was four o’clock. True to his word, Luke stood at the entrance to the amputee ward looking for Douglas. Douglas noticed him and waved a hook. Luke walked across to him. His leg cast had a raised metal bar along its base which allowed Luke to walk on an even keel. It made a low hollow thud with each step.

            – Hello. You don’t mind if I join you, do you? I’ve been going mad with no-one to talk to. I’m sorry you’re leaving today. I mean, I’m glad you can go home, of course. Just sorry you won’t be around.

            – I know what you mean, Luke. It’s alright. How long have you been here?

            – Three weeks. I had a bit of a smash-up and messed my leg up. It’s fifteen centimetres shorter now and my knee is fused. I have to wear this cast for a couple of months until the bones knit and then I’ll have to wear a built-up boot and a leg brace. I’m having an old-style metal and leather one made.

            – I’m sorry to hear that.

            – Oh, don’t be. I’m quite looking forward to being a bit special.

            – Haha! We are a bit special, aren’t we? How did you hurt yourself?

            – I came off my bike at the bottom of a hill and my knee smashed into the kerb. It was shattered and the bones either side. I told them to amputate my leg but they said that fusion would be better. We’ll see. I’m still going to try for an amputation, I think.

            – My best friend is an amputee. He lost his leg when we were in infant school. You could have a word with him after you get your brace, about amputation, I mean.

            – That would be good. How did you lose your arms? Was it a recent accident?

            – Yeah. I was electrocuted. Thirty thousand volts burned my arms off.

            – You were lucky to survive.

            – Well, as you see, I have two artificial arms with hooks now for the rest of my life and the jury is still out on how lucky I am.

            – I think they look fantastic. I wish I had them instead of you.

            – Really? You’d like to have arms like these?

            – Yes. I’d love to use hooks for everything. They look so cool and masculine. I think you look very macho and imposing with two artificial arms and hooks.

Douglas looked at Luke, who seemed deep in a reverie. His eyes stared at the hooks.

            – This hook is an interesting design. I haven’t seen one like that before.

            – It’s called a farmer’s hook. I should actually change it before I leave. It’s not really suitable for using at home. Hey! Would you like to change hooks for me?

            – Yes, I’d love to if you tell me what to do.

            – OK, wait a sec.

Douglas fetched his right Hosmer Five and handed it to Luke.

            – You see this threaded bolt? It screws into the end of my forearm. But first you have to take the cable off the farmer’s hook. Let me open it and you can start. Be very careful with the hook because it’s very strong and I can’t control how hard it closes. It will bite your fingers if you’re not careful.

Douglas lifted his forearm and locked it. He opened the hook and Luke studied how to free the cable. It was simple enough. The strong rubber bands immediately snapped the hook shut on Luke’s fingers and he yelped.

            – Ow! That really hurts.

            – Sorry. I did warn you. Use your other hand to open it. I can’t do it.

Luke got the hook open and inspected his crushed fingers. Beads of blood welled from cuts on two fingers. Douglas called for the nurse.

            – My hook bit my friend’s hand and he needs a couple of plasters.

The nurse looked at the hand and walked quickly to her work station. She returned with two plasters and applied them to Luke’s fingers.

            – Is your hook supposed to be as dangerous as that?

            – Only if you put your fingers in it. I did warn him.

            – Yes, he did. It was just stronger than I expected. Thank you, nurse.

She looked dubiously at the two disabled youngsters and decided to keep an eye on them.

            – I’m sorry about that, Luke. Do you want to continue? The rest isn’t so dangerous.

            – Alright. Tell me what to do.

            – Unscrew the hook that bit you. It just screws off. And then you screw the other one in.

Luke held the forearm in his injured hand and did as requested. He used his initiative to reconnect the cable without being told. The Hosmer hook was easier to pry open and had a safer inner surface. Douglas looked at it, its fingers pointing left, and shrugged his left shoulder. The hook opened and both boys grinned at each other.

            – Thank you, Luke. Job well done.

            – Don’t mention it. I wish I could help you more. It would be nice if we could meet again after I get out. Whereabouts do you live?

            – Richmond but after Easter I’m starting at a new school in Langley, if you know where that is.

            – Really? I know Langley very well. We live in Staines so it’s only up the road. Is it the boarding school you’re going to?

            – Yeah. It’s for disabled students. I suppose that means me, now. I don’t think of myself as disabled.

Luke knew the place well. On sunny Saturday afternoons, he often cycled to the area and slowly toured the local streets on the lookout for amputees and other disabled students. There were young men in wheelchairs and on crutches with deformed legs but he liked the way leg amputees walked more and best of all were the students who were missing arms or wearing artificial arms. It was very unusual to see anyone wearing a hook. In public, arm amputees seemed to prefer cosmetic hands, sometimes disguised with a black leather glove. Luke looked down at his long leg cast with its extension and thought he might fit in quite well. He was going to look disabled himself very soon when he got his big leather boot. He would not be cycling there any longer.

            – Perhaps I could come and visit you.

            – Alright. That would be fun. We could go for a burger somewhere.

            – I’d love to.

 

They sat chatting for half an hour about their accidents and their injuries. Luke described the steel leg brace he would always need unless he could have an above-knee amputation. Douglas said it was probably better to have an artificial leg which at least could bend when you sat down rather than a real leg which would always stick out. His friend got about fine on his fake leg and he only had a very short stump. They were interrupted by the arrival of Mr and Mrs Lewis.

            – Oh! There’s my parents. They haven’t seen my arms yet.

            – Do you want me to go?

            – No. Stay for a few minutes. I might need some help.

            – OK. I’ll do whatever you want.

Douglas stood up and went to greet his mum and dad. His mum held him at arm’s length and looked him up and down.

            – You look fine, Douglas. Are you ready to leave?

            – I just need to make sure I’ve got everything. I couldn’t close my suitcase but I have a new friend who can help. Luke!

Luke got up and limped across to Douglas’s bed.

            – Can you look in my locker to see that I’ve got everything, and then if you could close my case for me. This is Luke, by the way. And these are my parents. Luke is on another ward. We only met at lunchtime.

            – Hello Luke. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry it couldn’t be under better circumstances.

            – Yes, I see what you mean. But we would never have met otherwise.

Mrs Lewis looked at Luke, surprised by his truthful statement tinged with romanticism. He was a handsome boy, about the same age as Douglas but had an air of dignity and elegance which her rumbustious son could never achieve. Even with his grotesque plaster cast, Luke was an attractive young man. She noticed her thoughts straying and collected herself.

            – Well, perhaps Douglas can pop in to visit you before you leave. Douglas, are you ready? Have you got everything?

            – I think so. Luke, thank you for helping. I will come and visit, if you like.

The boys had already exchanged telephone numbers and promised to keep in touch. Douglas was grateful to Luke for the simple reason that he was the first new friend he had made after getting his artificial arms and hooks. It was a relief to know that his disability was no deterrent to friendship. Douglas had an idea and arranged his arms so that he could give Luke a prosthetic hug. He shrugged his shoulders and jerked his prosthetic arms, alarming his mother who had never seen anything like it, and stepped towards Luke, enveloping him between his prostheses.

            – Goodbye, Luke. Thank you.

He withdrew, the artificial arms maintaining their now odd position.

            – Ready! Let’s go!

His father collected his suitcase and carried the discharge papers in his other hand. His mother walked along beside him, trying to impart a sense of acceptance of her reconfigured son to him, desperate not to show how utterly distasteful she found the alien appendages she would see first before the rest of her beautiful boy. She hated herself for her disgust and longed for a large glass of rosé as soon as they arrived home. Mr Lewis handled the signatures, interrupted by the receptionist who asked if Douglas was certain he had all four of his hooks.

            – Patients often forget them if they aren’t wearing them, you see. Thank you, Mr Lewis. Good luck, Douglas. Come and visit us sometime.

            – I’ll be back soon to visit Luke.

            – Jolly good. Bye!

 

Douglas released his forearms and they left. Douglas sat in the back of the car and tried to reach the seat belt. It was such an impossible action that he began to laugh.

            – What’s funny, Douglas?

            – I will never ever be able to get a seat belt on. Don’t worry! Let’s go home.

 

Mrs Lewis was making risotto for dinner. She had no idea about how Douglas might be able to feed himself but assumed that he might be able to use a spoon. Hence the risotto. It was actually one of her regular dishes so it did not seem like an exceptional occasion. Neither of his parents had been able to open a conversation with Douglas about his new arms and Douglas was a little disappointed. He wanted to show them off and demonstrate what he had already learned but they did not seem to show much interest. The reality was that his mother was battling her distaste and his father was battling his libido. He could hardly look at his son without becoming aroused by the ugly, rigid, unnatural mechanical replacements for his son’s flesh and blood arms, complete with the shiny metal hooks which signified for him a representation of steely masculine resilience and determination. Mr Lewis realised his imagination was running away with him again and seldom dared to even glance at his son as they sat watching an early evening news review. Douglas inured himself to the fact that they were leaving him alone. He would explain anything if they asked but they were silent. It was as if his electrocution had never happened. He looked at the shape of his cylindrical pink forearms and felt a little cheated. He liked the look of them.

 

They ate and Mr and Mrs Lewis watched Douglas struggle to pick up his spoon. Mrs Lewis served the meal in deep bowls and it was fairly easy for Douglas to manipulate food onto his spoon and bring it to his mouth. The associated jerking and shrugging was disconcerting. Douglas did not notice, concentrating too much on operating his arm. He still wore the symmetrical hook on the left. He asked for a glass of water and was able to grip the glass firmly but unable to drink comfortably from it. Mr Lewis saw to that small task for him. Later, they watched a documentary show about the polar jet stream and its increasingly violent effects. Douglas announced he was very tired and wanted an early night. He asked his father to help him in the bathroom.

 

            – Can you take my clothes off? Except my underpants. I can do those.

Mr Lewis removed Douglas’s trainers and jeans and lifted the T-shirt off him.

            – Can you brush my teeth, please dad?

Douglas had an electric toothbrush but its shape was such that it was almost impossible to grip and he could not move the head around in his mouth. He rinsed his mouth and his father wiped his lips dry. Douglas pushed his underpants down to expose his genitals and for the first time ever, manipulated his penis with a hook. He allowed it to rest on his hook and hoped that his aim was approximately true. He hooked his pants up and thanked his father.

            – Don’t you need help to get your arms off?

            – No thanks, dad. I can manage from now on. Getting them on and off was the first thing they taught me.

            – Alright. If you’re sure. Good night, son. Sleep tight.

 

Douglas went to his room, squirmed out of his underwear and stood naked in front of his mirror. He had a nice body, good legs and his face was alright. He touched his penis with his right hook and knocked it until it woke up. His left hook had a very nice gap in the middle. He shrugged his right shoulder to open the hook and fed his penis into the open hook. He had to strain his shoulder to keep the hook open but that was alright. The inside of the hook was smooth and an interesting sensation. His own private erection was what he had craved for a month and more. He twisted his shoulders. The hook moved backwards and forwards along his erection. He brought his Hosmer across to rub the glans and looked at himself in the mirror. He saw only his steel hooks and his cock interacting and, tilting his head back in ecstasy, allowed his semen to shoot against the mirror two meters away. It dribbled down the glass. It was one of the best wanks he had ever had and he accepted that his hooks were part of himself. He sat cross-legged on his bed and shucked his arms. He lifted them carefully onto the floor with his foot and kicked his way into bed. He wanted to continue to play with his penis but all efforts were in vain. He felt only the sensitive tips of his stumps straining against the cool sheets and found it a pleasant sensation. He turned onto his tummy and gyrated his genitals against his bed until his foreskin retracted and he could sleep comfortably. He dreamed of Luke as a bilateral arm amputee like himself lurching along a country road beside him on two short casted legs terminating in steel pegs. Deep in sleep, he ejaculated again and woke in the morning with drying spunk on his belly and duvet. His mum would understand. It was not the first time he had had a wet dream.

 

Luke had also dreamt of walking along a London street in a vastly exaggerated built-up boot, half a metre high. Along Portobello Road. People looking not at scented candles and knitted monkeys but at his glossy black boot which his companion, his lover, had polished for him that same morning with his prosthetic arms, hoping to win favour from Luke and to be allowed to have a few coins so he could buy himself a taco. Luke woke up from his nightmare with an erection. It was unpleasant to think of Douglas begging or to be in a subservient position. He wanted to hold him and keep him safe and be his arms. His mind cleared and he simply imagined himself living in a flat where they could both support each other. He knew he would inherit his grandma’s flat in Kingston when the old gal finally kicked her clogs. It would be fantastic to move in to the place after it had been gutted and converted to suit a man without arms and a man with one leg. Or no legs. That would be cool, too. Two stumps in a wheelchair. Luke turned over onto his side and imagined having no legs. Only short stumps.

 

Douglas had to ask his father for a few quid for bus fare. He wanted to visit Luke in hospital. His father handed over fifty in tens and said it was time that Douglas had his own bank account. He might shortly be getting compensation from the electricity company and he ought to have somewhere to put it. They could go to his dad’s bank later and open an account. It gave Douglas an impetus to start practising writing, specifically his signature.

 

He could do a D and a line followed by an upright to represent the L and another line. It looked like a signature and Douglas practised it hundreds of times with felt-tipped pens and ballpoints until it looked consistent. That was what his signature would look like. He doubted anyone with his own hands could reproduce the same kind of mechanical look. It was a unique style available only to men with hooks. Satisfied with his D, Douglas let the rollerball pen drop from his hook.

 

He went to the kitchen, where his mother was about to make a brew.

            – Would you like a cuppa?

            – Yes please. Can you pour it into a mug for me and only halfway full.

Douglas had realised that one of the problems with drinking anything was the angle at which the left hook rose. It tilted any glass or mug he was holding and spilled the liquid. But if it was only half filled, he should be able to lean forward to meet the rim of the glass halfway and then lean back to drink. He would give it a try. He noticed his mother watching him.

            – Don’t you want to ask anything about my arms, mum? How they work or what it’s like to wear them?

            – I don’t know what to ask, Douglas. I’m still trying to cope with knowing that you’ve been hurt. It’s difficult. And seeing your artificial arms is a constant reminder.

            – I think I understand. But it’s funny – I’ve started to feel that they are part of me now, just as much as my natural arms were. These are my arms now. I know they look a little odd and they don’t move like natural arms but it’s the only way I can do anything. I wish you could learn to see them as part of me.

            – Alright, Douglas. What you say makes a lot of sense. Give me a little time. I’m sure I’ll stop worrying sooner or later.

 

They drank their tea together. Douglas’s idea worked. He enjoyed his first unassisted drink and felt it was an important milestone. He thanked his mother and went to his bedroom. He was curious to find other everyday objects and small tasks which might pose a problem and work on them to improve. He pulled a paperback book from a shelf and took it to the living room table. It was almost new and the pages were tightly bound. It was a struggle to open them with a hook but he succeeded after a few tries. Maybe if he held a pencil, he could use the eraser to turn pages. Or a sticky note might work. He felt proud of himself for solving one little problem. One thing he needed to practise was dressing himself. He had put on a pair of workout pants because they had no zips or buttons. It was really difficult to get socks on. And his hoodies were easy to get on but all the sleeves were too long. His arms were rather shorter than his natural ones.

            – Mum? I have a bit of a problem here. Just a minute and I’ll show you what I mean.

He put a hoodie onto his bed and knelt by the bedside. He fed his prostheses into the sleeves and raised his arms as far as possible. He stood and allowed the hoodie to fall into place.

            – Look! The sleeves are too long on all my hoodies and shirts and jackets!

            – Oh dear, so they are. I could take the sleeves up a little, I suppose. I don’t know what we’re going to do about your jackets though. I can’t alter them. Maybe a tailor could do it.

            – Yeah, probably. I don’t mind wearing a T-shirt here inside but I really need to have something warmer if I want to go out.

            – When are you thinking of going out?

            – Well, I wanted to go and visit Luke this afternoon.

            – Alright. I’ll get the machine out and alter your hoodies after we’ve had lunch. Is that soon enough?

            – Yes. Thanks, mum!

He spread his prostheses and hugged his mother. This time she did not recoil.

 

They worked out how much the sleeves needed shortening. Douglas wanted his hooks to be fully on display, so the sleeves should be only as long as the protheses themselves. Mrs Lewis made a neat job of two of Douglas’s favourite hoodies. She would alter his dress shirts later, before he started at the Langley school. And she would need to find a tailor who could adapt his jackets. It was a minor inconvenience but she appreciated that well-fitting clothes meant a lot.

 

Douglas practised handling coins. He would need to pay bus fare on his visit to the hospital and was determined to manage accepting his change from the driver. The standard hook was more suitable than the symmetrical one. If he wore his jeans, he could drop the coins into a pocket. Maybe if he carried a bag, it would make life a little easier. It would have to be simple to open with a hook.

 

Douglas arrived at the hospital shortly after visiting hours began. The receptionist laughed when she saw him.

            – We didn’t expect you back quite so soon, Douglas. Is everything OK?

            – Fine, thanks. I’ve come to see Luke.

            – Just go straight to the ward. You know where it is.

Luke was lying on his bed, poking at his phone.

            – Hi! I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Sit on my bed. I have some interesting news for you. I’m being discharged. My father is collecting me tonight. I was in rehab this morning and they changed my cast. And they did an ultrasound and had a look at my ex-knee and said I’d be in a cast for at least another three months. So I got this new one and a different lift with rubber on the end.

            – It looks very smart and clean.

            – I’m going to try and keep it clean. I don’t like it when people want to sign their names or draw things on it. And the other thing is that my grandma has finally agreed to go into sheltered housing. She has a flat in Kingston.

            – Yeah. I remember you told me.

            – And father says that he’s going to make it accessible. You know, disabled friendly. And when it’s ready, I can move in and have my own place. And I was thinking, Douglas. Would you come and share with me?

            – Well, I don’t really know. I’m going to be boarding at Langley for two years so we wouldn’t be together very much.

            – The flat won’t be ready for quite a while. Grandma has to move out and get settled before we can do anything.

            – That’s OK. We can wait. I think I would like to share your flat with you. Two tragic invalids helping each other.

            – Exactly! Oh, that’s good. I’m so glad. There was one other thing too. I was talking with the doctor this morning about an amputation.

            – What did he say?

            – He said he wanted me to get used to having a short leg and brace before they would consider amputation. It wouldn’t be for any medical condition, you see. It would be elective.

            – But he didn’t rule it out completely.

            – No! That’s the great thing. With any luck, I’ll have a thigh stump by the time I turn twenty-one.

            – I think it would be better. But like the doctor said, you should probably wear the brace for a year or so. That way you can make a better judgment about the pros and cons. But you won’t have the brace for a while, will you? If you’re supposed to wear that cast for three months.

            – It might be even longer. It depends on how well the bones knit. Oh! I almost forgot. They gave me a walking stick too. There, by the cabinet.

            – You’re going to look really special with your short leg cast and a walking stick. Are you going back to school after Easter?

            – Yeah, I think so.

            – That’s when I start at Langley. I’m quite looking forward to it, really.

 

They chatted for another hour until Luke’s father, Peter Taylor, appeared.

            – Hello, son. Are you packed and ready to go? Hello. Who are you? I don’t think we’ve met.

            – My name’s Douglas Lewis, sir. I was here until a couple of days ago as a patient.

            – I see. Well, Luke has been discharged so we’ll be off as soon as possible. Where are you headed?

            – Back home to Richmond.

            – Ah. That’s a bit off our beaten track, I’m afraid, but we can give you a lift to Slough.

            – That would be great. Thank you.

Taylor took a small suitcase and watched his disabled son put on a jacket and pick up a walking stick. The boy was agile enough on his cast with its steel lift. They went to their car and Luke scrambled into the back seat. Douglas sat in the front.

            – I’m sorry. I can’t lock the seatbelt myself.

            – Lift your arms up, Douglas.

Taylor leaned across him and pulled the belt across his chest.

            – Were you in hospital because of your amputations?

            – Yes sir. I was electrocuted.

            – How are you managing otherwise? It can’t be easy for you.

            – Not too bad. I seem to learn something new every day. I don’t have much choice.

            – No, I suppose not. Luke, are you in any great hurry to get home?

            – No, why?

            – I think we can take Douglas all the way. Traffic is in the other direction this time of day.

Taylor made sure his son was secure sprawled along the back seat and they drove off. Taylor was interested to hear about Douglas’s experiences in learning to use his artificial arms.

            – Oh, they come right up to your shoulders? So you’ve lost your elbows too, have you? That does make life hard. I thought you’d only lost your hands.

            – No, I have to control my elbows the same way as my hooks so I have to keep locking and unlocking them if I want to use my hooks to pick something up.

            – You should see him, father. He’s really expert.

            – Well, not really, but I’ve learned to be patient when I try to do something. I can’t feel anything, you see, so I have to watch what I’m doing carefully and kind of plan ahead.

            – It sounds very difficult. But interesting too. You don’t seem depressed or sad about losing your arms.

            – No sir. I’m just happy to be alive. If I have to use hooks for the rest of my life, it’s a small price to pay.

            – That’s a very wise sentiment, Douglas. I’m sure you’ll do well in life.

Taylor asked more questions about his new school and what he was studying, what profession he was interested in following, did he have any hobbies he could continue with as a disabled man.

 

Taylor knew that his son was a homosexual and accepted it fully. He had noticed the easy friendship between the two invalids and the way Luke looked at Douglas. He wanted to know more about the young amputee in the likely event that the pair became a couple. Hence his decision to drive Douglas home to Richmond. They were almost there. Luke looked at their route from the High Street in case Douglas invited him to visit some time. Douglas pointed out a turning.

            – Third house along. Thank you very much for the lift, sir.

            – Don’t mention it. Thank you for your company. I’ve learned a lot of things I had no idea about.

Douglas held his arms up again as Taylor unlocked the seat belt and Douglas squirmed around to face Luke as best he could.

            – Shall we get together again before the school break finishes?

            – Yes. I’ll text you and we can work something out.

Douglas positioned a hook in the door release and pulled. The door opened. It was another minor victory. He stepped down from the high slung car and lifted a hook as the car slowly pulled away.

            – Are you comfortable in the back there, Luke? He’s a very impressive young man, isn’t he? I get the idea you’re going to be an item before long.

            – Father!

            – Well, why not? I’m pretty sure you’d like to be with Douglas more. It’s alright, Luke. I don’t mind. I’m not angry. I’m happy that if you want a boyfriend, it’s someone as sensible as Douglas.

            – Thanks, father. It means a lot. I would like to see more of Douglas, it’s true.

            – To tell you the truth, son, so would I.

 

During the two weeks of Easter holiday, Douglas honed his skill at handling cutlery. His father placed a spoon in his vice and bent the handle so it matched the angle of Douglas’s right hook. Douglas used it for everything with the exception of food which he could handle with just his hooks. His father found a device online to help with buttons and placed an order. Douglas practised writing with a felt-tip pen and a rollerball. He accompanied his father on a visit to the bank and opened a current account and a savings account. He would be able to handle his affairs with the bank’s app on his phone. They visited a tailor and left three jackets, one tweed, one corduroy and one black leather, to have the sleeves shortened. Douglas told his mother that he did not need any long-sleeved shirts. She turned all his shirts into short-sleeved versions.

 

Best of all, Douglas and Luke met each other almost every day. Several times they compromised by meeting in Slough and spent time in the local library or over a cup of coffee. Douglas was invited for Sunday lunch at the insistence of Mrs Taylor, who was ever more curious to meet the boy with hooks who had smitten both her son and her husband. Douglas’s parents thought it odd but were happy to see Douglas socialising independently. His altered jackets had been collected and Douglas left home wearing grey trousers, a white shirt and blue tie and his leather jacket. He was unable to tie his shoelaces. His father did it for him and tied his Windsor knot. If he was requested to remove his shoes at the Taylor’s, Luke would have to help him. Douglas looked imposing in his black leather jacket with the steel hooks extending from the unusually short sleeves. He stared at his mirror reflection for a few seconds and decided he liked what he saw.

 

Luke was waiting for him at Staines bus station with his father. Luke had cut the leg off a pair of jeans and the entire expanse of pristine white plaster was on display. He hugged Douglas and Mr Taylor shook hands as he always did when they met. Waiting passengers eyed the two handsome young invalids in astonishment. Taylor was impressed to see the efforts Douglas had made to respect social norms. Mrs Taylor was impressed, too.

            – Hello Douglas. Welcome to our home. I’m very pleased to meet you. My name is Catherine but people call me Katie.

She looked Douglas in the eye, smiled and held out her hand. Douglas’s arm opened its hook so he jerked his stump and lifted the forearm and hook. She took it and shook it gently.

            – Luke! Help Douglas with his jacket.

            – Would you like me to take my shoes off?

            – No need, Douglas. They look quite clean to me. Peter, take the boys into the living room. I’ll join you in a moment.

 

Taylor poured four glasses of red wine and offered them around.

            – I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I can handle a normal wine glass.

            – No, I was wondering if you could.

            – I haven’t actually tried but I don’t want to drop and spill it. But if you have a tall glass or a beaker, I can hold that.

            – I’m sure we can find one.

He looked in the cabinet and picked out a tall cylindrical glass with a frosted surface.

            – Will this do?

            – Perfect!

He poured more wine and brought the glass to Douglas who took it in his symmetrical hook. It gripped the glass firmly.

            – Well, your very good health, boys. What have you been doing since we last met, Douglas?

            – I’ve been practising this and that. Writing especially. I want to be able to write again. I only have upper arm stumps which I can move so it’s a little difficult but I’m getting better at it.

Douglas did not mention he had also learned how to open and close his flies and urinate by himself although he was very pleased about it. Mrs Taylor joined them.

            – Dinner in about twenty minutes. Is this glass for me? Skål! Good health! Oh! I see you have a different glass, Douglas. Will you be able to handle a knife and fork?

            – I’m afraid not. I haven’t learned yet. But I brought something from home which my father made. It’s in my jacket. Shall I get it?

            – Please do.

Douglas picked his bent spoon from his jacket pocket.

            – This is what I use at home. Or I use my hooks. You know, if it’s something like chips or sausages.

            – Perfectly understandable. While you are here, you must do what is most comfortable for you. I hear you are starting a new school tomorrow.

            – Yes, the Langley boarding school.

            – I know it well. I used to work there before I married. Do you know your room-mate yet?

            – No, I haven’t actually been there yet. I’ll arrive tomorrow morning at eight o’clock to give me an hour to drop off my things before school starts.

            – I dare say you won’t have any classes tomorrow, Douglas. They’ll show you around the school first and introduce you to the teachers and some of your classmates. You will be going home for the weekends, I assume?

            – Yes, I’ll see my parents every week.

            – Good. Langley’s not far from here, you know. If you have spare time, you are welcome to pay us a visit in the evenings if you’d like to see Luke. Although you may find yourself busy with schoolwork. It takes pupils like yourself a little longer because instead of handing in written homework, you are interviewed instead. That’s what they call it, interviewing. It just means that a teacher asks you what you remember and he takes notes and they grade you on your answers.

            – That makes sense.

            – Yes, it’s easy enough but it does take up more time. You’re going to be quite a star, Douglas. I don’t know if there are other bilateral amputee students at the moment but it’s such an unusual thing that you may be one of a kind and of course everyone else will want to know everything about you and how your arms work. When I was there, most of the students were leg amputees or paralysed. But you won’t have a paralysed roommate, I’m quite sure. The idea is to pair students so they can help each other. So you may very well be sharing with a leg amputee.

            – Thank you for explaining, Mrs Taylor.

            – Do call me Katie, Douglas. Excuse me for a minute. I have to check on the food.

 

Douglas began to be aware of a difference in attitude between Luke’s parents and his own. Neither of the older Taylors seemed overly concerned about Luke’s disability. They were not blasé but pragmatic. It helped to explain Luke’s own serenity about his injury. When he had told Douglas about being fitted with a leg brace and a built-up boot, he had stated it simply as a matter of fact. He was quite calm about it. His own parents had been reluctant to confront Douglas’s new reality and he felt a little sidetracked.

 

The meal was served, a fine traditional Sunday roast. Luke sat to the right of Douglas and helped feed him. His parents watched the two boys. Douglas seemed relaxed about being assisted. Although he used his hooks without embarrassment or shyness, there were many things he needed help with and stoically accepted help. Luke was only too happy to help his friend and both his parents could sense their son’s love for the amputee who they both liked and admired.

 

Taylor offered to drive Douglas to Slough bus station when Douglas announced he should leave. There was some packing to be done at home. Luke accompanied them, reclining again in the back seat of the car. It would be his de facto permanent position when travelling by car and although it was convenient in his father’s car, it would pose a problem elsewhere and on public transport. It was one of the main points Luke intended to emphasise when discussing his potential amputation.

 

Mrs Lewis had packed the clothes she knew Douglas would need during the week. There was still enough space for the clothes which he wanted. He selected his workout trousers as well as his grey flannels, two of the newly altered dress shirts, a sleeveless woollen pullover and a hoodie. It was enough to manage with for five days. Douglas phoned Dillon in the evening and they spoke about the way things had been over the Easter break. Dillon could already sense that the very close friendship they had always had was disintegrating. Partly it was due to the fact of Douglas’s disability. It was inconvenient for him to try to maintain his old lifestyle, if not impossible. Dillon was a little despondent although Douglas suggested they meet the following weekend.

 

There was an early start to the day on Monday. Douglas and his father rose at five and had a quick breakfast before Douglas left dragging his suitcase. He caught an Underground train from Richmond to Paddington and Crossrail to Langley where he arrived with plenty of time to spare. The school was only a few minutes walk from the station. It was a non-descript building from the Thirties but it was set back from the road in a small area of parkland. As Douglas approached, the main door opened and a man appeared. He lifted a hand in greeting.

            – Good morning. You must be Douglas Lewis. Do come in. Welcome to Langley. Did you have a good journey?

            – Yes, thank you. I came on the train from Paddington.

            – Oh, jolly good. It’s such a luxury to have a fast service into town. We used to feel so isolated. Well, follow me and I’ll show you to your room. My name is McDonald, by the way. I’m the assistant headmaster and it’s my job to help you settle in. With any luck, your roommate will be in. Let’s see.

He knocked at a door marked with a Five. A baritone voice called out “Come in!”

            – We’re in luck. Hello, Travis. How are you? I’ve brought you some company. This is Douglas Lewis, starting today, so he’ll be in the year under you. And this is Travis Smith. And if you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, there’s something else I need to attend to but I’ll be back soon, Douglas, and then I’ll show you around.

He nodded at the two young men and left. Douglas held out his hook to shake hands.

            – Pleased to meet you, Travis.

            – The same. Welcome to our little room. That’s your bed that side, if that’s OK.

            – It’s fine. Where shall I put my things?

            – Plenty of closet space and shelves over here. This door here is the bathroom and toilet.

Travis stood a hundred and ninety centimetres tall and looked enormous to Douglas who was fifteen centimetres shorter. He crossed the room and opened the closet door to show two rails and sets of shelves, one of which was empty. Two pairs of crutches leaned against the wall.

            – So much space! I only have a few things.

            – Do you need some help unpacking? Just ask. I mean, that’s why there are two of us together.

            – I might do that. Let’s not do it now. Plenty of time later. Travis, er, I hope you don’t mind me asking but how are you disabled?

            – I’m legless. Can’t you tell?

            – No! I had no idea.

            – That’s good. Yeah, these are prosthetic legs. Well, you’ll see them later. Where have you been studying until now?

Douglas gave a short curriculum vitae up to the date three months previously when he had been electrocuted.

            – So how long have you had your hooks?

            – About six weeks.

            – And can you use them alright?

            – Well, I’m still learning but I can do some things.

            – Just tell me if you need help with anything, Douglas. I’m willing to help. Sometimes I like having a helping hand – sorry, helping hook – when I don’t have my legs on.

Travis in turn explained how he had lost his legs several years ago playing on the railway line which passed close by. His home was further west, but he boarded at Langley during the week because his father was a widower and worked all over the country. But he went home at weekends, like Douglas intended to. Mr McDonald knocked and entered.

            – Everything OK? Douglas, have you eaten breakfast yet?

            – I had some cereal at five o’clock.

            – Good lord, you must be starving. Shall we go to the dining room and get something to eat. I’m hungry too. Travis? How about you?

            – I’ve had mine, thanks.

            – Good show. Right, Douglas, let’s go. Thank you, Travis.

 

They went down a floor in a lift which opened onto a brightly lit canteen. There were several students enjoying breakfast and they looked at the newcomer with the hooks.

            – Help yourself to what you want, Douglas. There’s scrambled egg and frankfurters or fruit and bread. Tea and coffee and juice.

McDonald and Douglas ate hearty breakfasts. Douglas ate egg with a spoon and held sausages in his hooks. The assistant headmaster was aware of how disoriented new students might feel and maintained a series of trivial questions and small talk.

            – You won’t be in classes today. We’ll have a look around first and then you can get yourself settled in your room. And this afternoon, we’ll go through the curriculum and I’ll explain how your work is graded. We have four other students whose work is entirely oral and you’ll be joining their group.

Douglas nodded. He was anxious to begin his tour to see the school. The first place was the gym, right next to the canteen. It was freely available for everyone to use at any time and its use was encouraged. The school had no scheduled physical training lessons due to the disparate range of abilities and body types. Upstairs on the ground floor were the dormitories and shared apartments numbered from one to twenty. There was a laundry room with two heavy-duty washing machines and dryers, and an ironing board. On the first floor were classrooms. They were small with desks for fifteen or so students at most, all equipped with modern audiovisual equipment.

 

Douglas returned to room Five after the afternoon session. The school’s rules and regulations had been explained, ranging from visitors to alcohol use. Mutual assistance was expected of everyone. All students were disabled according to society’s norms and the school’s guiding principle was to instil a sense of self-reliance as far as possible. But anyone who needed a little help was expected to get it. It all seemed fairly logical and tolerable enough for the five weekdays when he would be present.

 

Douglas emptied his suitcase and put his clothes away. He had rubber bands and the applicator for his hooks, stump socks and a spare pair of liners, his bent spoon, his phone and charger. He would have to ask Travis about a good place to stash them. There was a set of cupboards at waist level along one wall. Douglas did not want to pry into them without his roommate being with him. Travis turned up soon after four. They greeted each other and Travis asked how Douglas’s first day had been. He sat on his bed and detached his left prosthesis. It was a surprisingly long above knee artificial leg. Travis folded his trouser leg up and tucked it into his waistline.

            – There’s a pair of long crutches in the closet, Douglas. Could you get them for me, please?

Douglas had noticed them earlier. He brought the wooden axillary crutches over to Travis, who leaned on the crossbars and rose to his foot.

            – This is the way I usually am, Douglas. One legged. Although this is a wooden leg too. It’s more comfortable for me to use crutches than the long leg. So. You managed to unpack, did you?

            – Yeah. Oh, I was going to ask you where I can keep my stump socks and things. I assume that’s what the cupboards are for but I didn’t want to go poking around before you got here.

            – Oh, you needn’t worry about that. I don’t have many secrets. The three drawers on the right are all empty. Use those. What’s that metal thing? Pliers?

            – No. It’s a thingy to put new rubber bands on my hooks.

            – Can I have a look?

Douglas gripped the applicator and took it over to Travis. He explained how it was used. Travis took hold of Douglas’s hook and inspected the mechanism. Douglas looked at the large hand with long fingers tracing the shape of his hook and almost felt its warmth.

            – They’re beautiful in an odd way.

            – I’m growing to like them. They can do more than I expected. It’s getting easier for me to use them how I want but not having my own elbows makes things awkward sometimes.

            – I think you look striking with two artificial arms. You make an instant impression. Not like me with my fake legs hidden under my trousers.

            – You should wear shorts. Show them off.

            – I don’t really like to. People react so strangely and I get fed up with explaining how I lost them. I just say in a road accident these days but that’s not true. I was mucking about with some friends on the railway line and didn’t get out of the way of an express fast enough.

            – That sounds painful. I just got thirty thousand volts of electricity through me and didn’t know anything about it until I woke up like this in hospital the following week.

            – Were you somewhere you shouldn’t have been?

            – Yeah. Trespassing near an electricity transformer.

            – What a pair of idiots. And here we are now, like transformers ourselves. Well, I’m going to have a shower before dinner. Shall we go together?

            – Where do you mean? To dinner? Or to the shower?

            – Haha! I meant to dinner together but you can come in the shower with me if you like. I’ll wash your back for you.

            – OK! I can’t reach it very well these days.

            – I thought not. Shall I undress you?

            – Er, alright. Yes please.

            – Sit on your bed and I’ll take your shoes off.

 

Travis undressed Douglas as far as he could. Douglas’s harness was over his T-shirt. He shed his arms and spread his stumps. Travis pulled the shirt off and looked at his new roommate’s naked body. Douglas had a good physique and his identical arm stumps were surprising to see but not unpleasant. Travis undid his trousers and removed his shirt. His thigh stump was badly scarred from his accident and extended about thirty centimetres. He removed his below knee prosthesis and lowered himself to the floor. His lower leg stump was about fifteen centimetres long. He crawled to the bathroom balancing on his hands and knee and pulled himself onto a bathing chair. Douglas followed him into the shower stall. His genitals were at Travis’s eye level.

            – Let me run the water. It’s always freezing cold at first.

 

Travis turned the spray towards them and picked up a bar of tar soap.

            – Duck down a bit and I’ll wash your face.

Douglas was excited by being fondled by his tall, older roommate. Travis rubbed his hands over his shoulders and handled the short arm stumps gently. Travis rubbed his soapy hands over Douglas’s torso. He washed the legs and the feet, between the toes. Then he looked Douglas in the eyes and soaped his hands again. He held Douglas’s penis and carefully pulled the foreskin back. He cupped the glans between his palms and massaged it. Douglas began to become erect. He lifted his stumps and held Travis’s temples as his knees grew weak. Travis soaped his hands again and washed the tight scrotum. The erection was complete and ready. Warm water drizzled from above rinsing all traces of soap.

            – Bend down and I’ll shampoo your hair.

A minute later, Douglas was ready.

            – Thanks Travis.

            – Can you get a bath towel yourself? They’re on the shelf.

            – Yeah, I can use my teeth.

            – OK.

Travis washed himself quickly, inspecting his stumps. He shut the water off and asked for a towel. He dried himself in the bathing chair, then lowered himself onto the floor. He crawled back to his bed with the towel, rubbed specks of dust from his knee and hands and donned a fresh stump sock.

            – Douglas, there’s a pair of football shorts in the closet, blue ones. Can you bring them for me? I’ll wear shorts to dinner like you suggested. And there’s a hoodie in there too, a grey one. I’ll wear that too.

Douglas brought the clothes out and wondered what he could wear to show off his prosthetic limbs for his new student colleagues. A T-shirt seemed most obvious. He had no shorts with him. He laid his jeans along the bed and managed to get his legs into them. Using his head, he got a T-shirt on almost all the way but was unable to pull it over his head. He laughed at the situation.

            – Travis? Can you help me with this?

            – Haha! Come over here. Two more steps. Stop!

Travis settled the shirt onto Douglas’s shoulders and put the left arm stump into the sleeve. He buttoned the jeans and pulled the zip up. There was a keyring threaded through the tab.

            – That’s a good idea. You can grab that with a hook. Wait a minute and I’ll put your socks on.

Travis donned his short prosthesis and pushed himself up. He leant on his long crutches and smiled.

            – We managed that alright, didn’t we?

            – I don’t know how much use I was.

            – You got the towels, didn’t you? That was a help. I can’t do it, Douglas. Are you going to put your prosthetics on or are you coming to dinner like that? I’ll feed you if you want to let the air get to your stumps.

            – Really? Would you?

            – Of course I would. Go on. I know you’d like to.

            – Yes I would, actually.

It would be the first time since getting his prosthetic arms that he ate a meal without his hooks. He had enjoyed being with Travis in the shower so much that he was excited by the idea of being fed by him too, especially as Travis seemed keen to do it.

 

They descended to the canteen where dinner was in full swing. Two dozen or so students gestured to Travis and looked at the armless newcomer. They sat at a table and Travis pointed out the weekly menu chalked onto the wall. Monday was either spaghetti bolognese or rataouille.

            – Which would you like?

            – I think spaghetti. Chop it up and you can feed me with a spoon.

            – Alright. I’ll do that.

One of the stewards came to take their order and shortly returned with their meals as well as a carafe of water and some bread.

            – Table service! I’m impressed. I wasn’t expecting that.

            – They tried a buffet a few years ago apparently but it was too chaotic. Half of us were on crutches and the rest in wheelchairs and no-one could carry a plate of food. Easier like this, I suppose.

            – Just slice the spaghetti into bits, Travis. Don’t let your own food get cold.

Travis tasted his meal and pronounced it edible. He sat to the right of Douglas and spoon-fed him a couple of mouthfuls before continuing with his own meal.

            – Are people here friendly? You know, one big happy family.

            – No more so than anywhere else, really. Everyone is fairly severely disabled otherwise we wouldn’t be here but we all have our own separate interests and support different football teams and all the rest of it. You’ll make friends, don’t worry.

            – I already feel like I have one good friend.

            – So do I. I’m glad we’re sharing the room, Douglas. Open wide!

 

Douglas put his arms on after dinner. He tapped out a couple of text messages to Luke and Dillon, letting them know he had arrived and felt welcome. Dillon replied with a smilie and Luke sent a long paragraph bewailing the fact that they would not be together again for four more days.

 

Classes started for Douglas next morning at nine. The curriculum was similar to that of his old school but there were only five of them in the class and the teacher made sure than everyone understood the lesson. Two of the boys were paralysed and in motorised wheelchairs, one had phocomelia, resulting in deformed hands protruding directly from his shoulders, the fourth was missing his hands at the wrist with long rounded stumps and he was the fifth, prosthetic arms resting on the table in front of him. Instead of each having text books, only one was in use and it was projected page by page onto a screen at the front of the room.

 

There was an hour break for lunch at noon followed by another three hours of lessons, two subjects of ninety minutes each. School was over at four and students could return to their rooms. On Friday afternoons, they were tested, or interviewed, on what they had learned during the week and they were graded according to their answers. The group would not be expected to sit for exams in the normal fashion. They would dictate their answers to a teacher who would write on their behalf. It was a new system, still partly experimental but it was producing successful candidates for further education at university or vocational colleges.

 

Douglas and Travis were a superbly matched pair of disabled teenagers. They both liked each other and admired each other’s disabilities and prosthetic limbs. Travis was continually fascinated by the machinations which Douglas went through to operate his hooks and the unnatural movements of the arms which were an integral feature for an amputee without elbows. Douglas admired the elegant smoothness of Travis’s motion on crutches when he wore only his short prosthesis with the other trouser leg tidily folded up into his belt. Travis began to spend more time completely legless, relying on Douglas to fetch a book or a hoodie. They showered together every day after school and before dinner. Douglas trusted Travis implicitly. He was helpless without his arms but felt safe in Travis’s company. Travis enjoyed helping his junior roommate, normal in every way except for his permanent irreparable vulnerability.

 

On Friday evening, after dinner, they both strolled to Langley station. Travis was wearing both prostheses. Douglas had his week’s dirty laundry in a small suitcase dragging behind him. Travis’s westbound train arrived first. Douglas boarded his connection to Hayes and continued by bus to Richmond. It would be cool to get an electric bike or four wheeler for these weekend journeys. Fares were very expensive. He could ask his dad about it.

 

It was past eight when Douglas arrived home. He had a key but it was too difficult to use. He knocked and his mother opened the door. She was so pleased to see him that she hugged him, momentarily forgetting her son’s rigid artificial arms which she could feel through his jacket.

            – I’m so pleased to see you. Have you had a good week? Come and tell us all about it.

She helped Douglas with his jacket and bent down to remove his shoes.

            – Have you had something to eat?

            – Yeah. We had dinner at six so I’m not hungry. Hello dad!

            – Good to see you. How’s life?

            – Well, school’s fine. It’s not like an ordinary school. They take things slower but somehow you seem to learn more. And I have a really great roommate who helps me with things. Or, we help each other. He’s legless, you see.

Mrs Lewis inhaled sharply.

            – It’s alright though. He uses artificial legs most of the time and gets around OK by himself. He’s a year older than me so we don’t see each other during school hours. Except at lunchtime.

            – Are you managing OK with your meals?

            – Yeah. I have my bent spoon and someone else is always there to cut my food into bits if I can’t do it.

Douglas described his room and the classrooms, the gym and canteen and what the local area was like. He omitted describing his fellow students with their crutches and wheelchairs and stumps and deformities but was proud to announce that he was the only bilateral above elbow amputee in the school at the present time. Mr Lewis noticed that Douglas was gesticulating with his arms more than he used to. The boy was subconsciously accepting that they were part of him.

 

Douglas called Dillon the next morning and they arranged to meet up in town for a burger. They had not seen each other for several weeks although they had texted fairly often. Douglas repeated his description of the Langley school but included the disabilities he had seen among his colleagues.

            – So someone like me wouldn’t have much chance of getting in there?

            – No. You’re not nearly disabled enough. Neither am I, when you think about it. I’m only there because I can’t write with my hooks.

            – Don’t you think of yourself as disabled, Douglas?

            – Only when I’m not wearing my hooks. My stumps are too short to do much with.

            – You’re getting quite good with your hooks.

            – Practice makes perfect and all that. It’s good I’m still in school, really. I can learn to use my arms now when there’s no great pressure and by the time I leave, I’ll be skilful enough to get a job.

            – Do you think you’ll be able to write by then?

            – No, not if I’m honest. I can sign my name, sort of, but I don’t expect I’ll ever do much writing. I can use a keyboard OK so that’s not a problem.

            – Can you use a mouse?

            – Ha! No! Well, with both hooks I can just about move it around but the cursor goes everywhere. I use a stylus if I have to.

 

Dillon told Douglas what was going on at his former school and what his classmates had said and done. It was inevitable but both boys felt a growing rift between them. Together they had been great friends, amputee mates, but now they were nearly adults and separated, there was less opportunity to maintain a close friendship. Dillon inadvertently underlined the point by suddenly announcing he had to get going and that they should keep in touch. Douglas took his phone out and texted Luke.

            – i’m in richmond. want to join me?

            – yes. give me an hour.

            – ok.

 

Luke caught a bus and willed it to move faster. He was annoyed by passengers at bus stops who wanted to delay him. He limped into the burger place and found Douglas drinking a third coke, staring at his phone.

            – Hi!  I came as fast as I could. Have you been in here long?

            – I was with my mate Dillon but he had to go and I didn’t want to go yet. Thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure if we’d be able to meet this weekend.

            – I’m glad you called. I was going crazy at home. My dad wanted to take me fishing with him. Can you imagine!

            – Did you used to go fishing with him?

            – Yeah but that was years ago. I haven’t got the patience any more. Do you want anything to eat? I’m going to get a hamburger.

Douglas watched his friend haul his rigid cast with its steel lift to the counter. He tried to imagine him wearing a normal pair of jeans with a leg brace and the big black boot . He would look very striking. Luke was good-looking anyway. His built-up boot would hint at a flaw, a personal tragedy in his otherwise perfect body. Douglas thought it would make him even more handsome. Douglas looked away as Luke returned to the table, embarrassed by his imagination.

            – How have you been getting on with your roommate? What’s he like?

            – His name’s Travis. He’s very tall, a head taller than me and he’s in the year above me so we don’t have lessons together. Actually, we wouldn’t anyway because I’m in a special class where we don’t need to write and he has hands.

            – But he’s disabled, I assume?

            – Yeah. He has no legs.

            – Oh. Is he in a wheelchair?

            – No, he has two artificial legs but he likes to leave one of them off and walk around on crutches.

            – That’s what I want to do. I want this leg off and use crutches with my stump obvious inside a folded trouser leg. I think it looks so smart. So his other leg is fake too?

            – Yeah. He has a short fake leg for that side. The other stump is about halfway down his thigh.

            – He sounds exactly like the sort of man I’d like to be. I’d love to meet him.

            – Do you mean you’d like to lose your other leg as well?

            – Douglas, I should come clean with you. I’m one of those people who find amputations to be the most desirable thing imaginable. It’s why I want to have this leg off so I can at least have one stump of my own. Do you think I’m crazy?

            – No, not really. My friend Dillon is a leg amputee and we’ve always been together so I know everything about leg stumps and I think it looks cool too. And now I’m an amputee myself. I never expected anything like it would happen to me. Sometimes I miss my hands but when I look at my hooks doing what I want them to, I’m very proud of them and my clunky artificial arms and I don’t think I’d want to have my own arms back even if it was possible.

            – So you don’t mind it if I like amputees?

            – No. Is that what caught your notice when you saw me?

            – Yes, apart from the fact that we’re the same age and I was lonely. I was excited by your hooks. I think they’re perfect on you. I like the way your sleeves have been shortened too. It makes you look so special and I love it.

            – Luke, be honest. Do you love me?

Luke looked into Douglas’s eyes and at his hooks resting on the table top. He reached over and took a hook into each hand. Luke spoke quietly and his gesture with the hooks imparted sincerity to his words.

            – I love you. I think I knew the moment I saw you that you were the man for me. And when we got to know each other a little better, I was positive. I love you and I love your artificial arms and your hooks and your beautiful stumps. I would do anything to be with you and I hope that you might feel something for me too. I want us to be together as soon as we can be.

Douglas looked at his friend’s earnest face and nodded. He bowed his head. The rejection he felt at home after his maiming and the unspoken words of distaste and strained tolerance were in stark contrast to the enthusiastic admiration and support which Luke personified.

            – We will be, Luke. I promise.

 

Douglas texted his mother to warn her that he was bringing a friend home. It was too late for lunch by the time they arrived so they spent much of the afternoon in Douglas’s bedroom after a suitably long half hour when he introduced himself to Mr and Mrs Lewis and answered their questions. Once again Douglas had found a disabled friend. The boy would soon be hobbling around with a leg brace. Was Douglas destined always to have friends who were handicapped in some way?  Luke left before supper for the long bus journey back to Staines after thanking Douglas’s parents for their hospitality. They both liked the self-confident young man with the easy smile and wished him welcome again.

 

Back at school, Douglas hunkered down to his studies. He admired his teachers who spared no effort to ensure that the boys understood everything and remained engaged with the subject matter. It was a fine way of teaching. He was curious about his classmate who had lost his hands but did not use artificial hands or hooks.

            – The skin on my stumps is very sensitive. I had CRPS and we have to wait until the drugs I take start to make a difference, you know, to deaden the nerves a bit. Then I’ll have a pair of hooks. The only thing is that CRPS tends to renew after a while. I expect it’ll spread to my legs before long and then I’ll lose my feet too.

            – I’m sorry, Ted. It must be awful knowing something like that in advance.

            – Yeah, I suppose. I’m used to the idea now.

            – When might you be getting your hooks? Weeks? Months?

            – It’ll probably be a couple or three months, I reckon.

            – Cool! It’ll be good to have another bilateral hook user around.

            – Yeah! I’m looking forward to having a pair. I hope I can use mine as well as you use yours.

 

Ted’s physician was satisfied that the boy’s stumps were desensitised enough by the beginning of July that he could be fitted with a pair of hooks. The sockets would be black carbon fibre with a black canvas harness and black leather upper arm cuffs. They would be ready the week after school finished for summer so Douglas, who had followed Ted’s progress with interest, would have to wait until September to see his friend wearing his own pair of hooks.

 

During the warm weather, Luke and Douglas tried to spend as much time together as possible. Dillon receded into the background and the pair of them rarely even phoned. Luke’s cast was removed in May and his leg and foot were measured for his caliper and built-up boot. He was given a pair of axillary crutches and told to keep all weight off his damaged leg until he had his brace. His foot was suspended fifteen centimetres off the floor and usually wore an identical shoe to that on his healthy foot. He wore jeans with the cuff turned up to display his suspended foot. Walking around one-legged on crutches was immensely enjoyable for Luke and a good approximation of what life would be like after an amputation. Luke and Douglas discussed the matter and decided that it would seem proper if Luke tolerated the leg brace for a year or eighteen months before kicking up a stink about being excessively disabled by his rigid leg and insisting that a prosthesis would be superior in many ways and allow him to access places and activities which his caliper and big black boot precluded.

 

Douglas went with Luke when he was fitted with his new gear. Luke was still on crutches and had learned to use them to their full effect. He strode elegantly beside Douglas who found himself struggling to keep up. The orthotist greeted them both and placed a rigid brace of mirrored steel and black leather straps equipped with a built-up boot in front of Luke and asked him to remove his trousers and the shoe from his short leg. He positioned the brace behind Luke’s thigh and worked the foot into the boot. He inserted the laces and pulled them tight. The brace was held firm by cuffs at the calf and two around the thigh, secured with buckles. Luke stood and tested the weight of the apparatus. It was lighter than his casts but provided a generous heft. The heel was surrounded with a steel horseshoe cleat and there was another cleat at the toe. The sound it made striking the floor was solid and reassuring. He had brought a pair of three quarter length cargo shorts from home and Douglas helped him feed the boot into the leg of the shorts. Luke pronounced himself satisfied, signed a receipt and the two young invalids returned to Luke’s home, where his mother appraised her son’s new look.

            – Is it comfortable?

            – Yes, it is. Very comfortable.

            – Then I’m pleased for you. It is rather impressive, isn’t it? A strong look.

She approached and kissed her beaming son.

            – It makes you look very distinguished. You too, Douglas. So very handsome, such an impressive figure. Come on, let’s have something to eat.

 

School started in early September. Douglas had not seen Travis since July. Travis had spent time in the family’s summer house in the Lake District and the good weather had given him a superb tan. He had also grown a goatee which suited him. Most surprising, he had converted his below knee prosthesis into a peg leg by replacing the foot with a rubber ferrule.

            – Are you going to wear that?

            – Yeah. I’ve been wearing it for a couple of weeks. It’s much easier to walk on than the proper foot and I can use my long leg better. And it looks incredible when I take the leg off and walk around on crutches and a peg leg.

            – I bet it does.

            – So what did you get up to during the holidays?

            – I was either at home or at my friend Luke’s home. We didn’t really go far. Luke was fitted with a leg brace at last. He wore a full length plaster cast for eighteen months. Then he was on crutches for three months or so and then he got his braces and a built-up boot.

            – What’s wrong with his leg?

            – He smashed it up and had some bone removed and the knee fused so his leg is rigid and about fifteen centimetres shorter than the other one.

            – So he can’t bend it at all?

            – No. He wants it amputated so he can have an artificial leg like yours which bends.

            – I’m not surprised. I wouldn’t like to have a rigid leg getting in the way all the time. Two stumps is the way to go.

            – Couldn’t agree more!

 

Douglas met the new Ted as soon as they arrived together for the day’s first lesson. He was wearing a russet-coloured pullover which hid his sockets but his new hooks shone brightly and his face resembled the proverbial Cheshire cat. Ted had been learning to use his artificial arms all summer and said he was happy to have hooks at last. He fished something out of his pocket – a bent spoon very similar to Douglas’s version. They both laughed about it. Something so trivial, so unusual and so useful.

 

Travis dropped a bombshell over dinner that evening.

            – This is my last term here. I’ll be leaving at Christmas. I’ve got a place at a college starting in January so you’ll probably either be on your own next year or with someone else.

            – Well, congratulations on the college place. I’m sorry you’re leaving so soon but I’m happy for you.

Douglas was disappointed. Travis was one of the best friends he had ever had and although they might maintain contact afterwards, his easy-going nature and support would be sorely missed.

 

The autumn term progressed and Douglas began to start thinking about career choices. Anything requiring manual dexterity was out of the question but there were several pathways open involving human resources and management which interested him. He had time before he needed to start specialising but began to pay more attention to subjects like English and maths which would be necessary for any business course. His interest had been sparked by the conscientious communication from his teachers and interviewers. He was experiencing the results of their professional skill and felt he would like to emulate them in another field. It was an opportunity he would probably never had thought of had he not lost his hands.

 

Douglas received a decision about compensation for his injuries. Solicitors working on his behalf had succeeded in wresting half a million pounds sterling from the utility company. Their first offer had been two hundred thousand. The money would be held in trust temporarily but would be earning interest and he would receive the money in full on his eighteenth birthday in six months time. His parents were pleased for him. The funds could make life as a severely disabled man somewhat easier. He told Luke too but did not reveal the sum. Luke himself had access to a substantial amount of money, perhaps inherited. If they were to share their lives in the converted Kingston apartment, they would both be able to keep most of the money in the bank. Luke’s grandmother was actively searching for a comfortable retirement home, as she called it, where she could live fairly independently while enjoying services such as meals, laundry and cleaning. Luke loved the old lady dearly but wished she would make the decision quickly so he and Douglas could start living together.

 

Christmas was approaching. Travis busied himself packing and giving away things he had no use for. Douglas had heard that a new student would be billetted on him in the New Year but not his disability.

            – I’m sorry to be leaving you, Douggie. You’ll be OK though, I’m sure. You’re so good with those wicked arms of yours that you hardly need help these days.

            – I’m going to miss you. I hope we can stay in touch. Maybe I could come and visit some time.

            – Yah. I’ll let you know.

Douglas squeezed Travis’s waist with his artificial arms and Travis hugged him. He was beginning to tear up. He would miss his armless roommate more than he cared to admit. He kicked his prostheses into motion and left, his suitcase rumbling along behind him.

 

Luke had been in pain. The weight of the leg brace was causing additional problems to his fused knee. He contacted his doctor who conferred with the surgeon and the subject of amputation was brought up without Luke’s bidding. The doctor knew Luke had requested an elective amputation before when his leg was still casted but professional pride prevented such drastic treatment, especially since the caliper and boot solution was yet to be tried. This time, the boy was faced with two choices. He could lose more bone from around his knee and still need a brace with an even taller built-up boot, something an astonishing thirty centimetres tall, or undergo an amputation resulting in a long well-formed stump perfect for operating a prosthetic limb. The surgeon agreed to operate just before his scheduled Christmas holiday break since the amputation was not traumatic and the patient was young, healthy and strong. Luke’s amputation took place on the twenty-third of December at nine o’clock in the morning and by late afternoon he was sitting up in bed sending text messages to Douglas. He claimed his long heavily bandaged stump was his best Christmas present ever.

 

Langley school remained open for students who were unable to spend Christmas elsewhere for whatever reason. Douglas went home, leaving shortly after Travis had gone. The Lewises did not make a fuss over Christmas. They did not buy presents or decorate the house, although they enjoyed seasonal meals and more alcohol than usual. Travis had introduced Douglas to the demon drink during the autumn term. They experimented with different spirits, test-tasting them but never becoming intoxicated. Douglas was unable to open a new bottle of spirits with his hooks and relied on Travis to do it. He had the same dilemma at home. His father had bought the usual vodka, gin and whiskey and Douglas had to ask him to open the bottles for him. His parents were surprised to find their boy turning into an adult. Douglas was almost eighteen and would shortly have his own bank account and a fair amount of money at his disposal. But he was still unable to remove a screw cap.

 

Douglas returned to school on the seventh of January. Mr McDonald was waiting for him in the entrance hall with another young man. Douglas immediately guessed what the situation was. McDonald stood up.

            – Hello Douglas. Happy New Year! I’d like you to meet Peter Morris, who’ll be sharing your room with you.

Peter Morris slid forward until his short metallic stubbies hit the floor and spoke in a surprisingly deep tenor.

            – Hello. Pleased to meet you.

Peter was so short that he found it impractical to reach up in order to shake Douglas’s hook.

            – Pleased to meet you too. Shall we go to our room and get things sorted out?

            – Can I leave Peter in your care for half an hour, Douglas? I’ll be back a little later, Peter, and I’ll show you around.

Peter was the victim of a road accident involving a heavy goods vehicle at the age of four. He had lost both legs and his mature stumps were barely long enough to let him use short stubbies. Douglas recounted how he had lost his arms, showed Peter to Travis’s bed and pointed out the closet and cupboards which were free to use.

            – I hope you don’t mind helping me hang my clothes up, Douglas. I have trouble reaching high places which in my case means anything above arse level.

            – I’ll do my best. I don’t have a lot of muscle power myself, to be honest.

            – What’s it like here? It was recommended to me by my old headmaster who said the sixth form is specialised in taking the needs of hopeless cripples into account.

            – Were you at a normal school?

            – Yup.

            – Well, this is nothing like that. Sooner or later your course will veer around to something a man in your position could be reasonably expected to succeed at.

            – So I won’t be on the soccer team, then?

            – No. We don’t have one. We go downstairs to the gym to work out. Are you pulling my leg, Peter?

            – I can hardly pull my own, can I? I’m just joking. Take no notice.

Peter had the habit of making off-colour remarks and ignoring both his own and others’ limitations. It could make some people uncomfortable but at Langley, his devil-may-care attitude was like a breeze of fresh air wafting over the background drudge of disability. Douglas was already beginning to appreciate it before McDonald returned.

 

Peter had smuggled in some booze and shared it with Douglas. Alcohol was not strictly permitted but as long as no-one appeared actually intoxicated, it was tolerated to a degree. That spring term, Douglas and Peter often relaxed together with a drink in the evening. Perhaps it was due to Peter’s extreme leglessness that Douglas socialised much less during his own last six month term at Langley. He was working towards getting good grades in his specialist subjects and put his trust in fate to land a place at a college somewhere which would accept him to read business studies.

 

They got along well on a personal level too. Douglas explained how he and Travis had showered together most evenings before dinner. Peter wanted a shower first thing in the morning and agreed to wash Douglas at the same time. There was no hint of sexuality about Peter’s treatment of Douglas’s intimate hygiene. Travis had always used his soapy hands to clean Douggie’s cock and balls. Peter was as thorough but used a sponge to lather their genitals. Douglas noticed that Peter never made any sexual references, not in school hours in public nor in their room when they were together. Douglas knew that severely disabled people often suppressed their sexuality because of a sense of hopelessness in finding an accepting partner. He felt lucky to have Luke as a friend.

 

Luke was recuperating at home. He was due back at school at the beginning of February for his last term and was making headway with his coursebooks at home. He was back on crutches and used them expertly. His mood improved considerably and his parents were relieved that his recovery was going better than they had anticipated. In their minds it was a greater disability to lose a leg than to rely on the leg brace and boot but Luke was completely at ease with his stump which he allowed to peek from the trouser leg of the shorts he favoured inside the house.  Mr and Mrs Taylor were completely pragmatic about the new disability. Their son was otherwise healthy and cheerful and intelligent enough to deal with the challenges which faced him. In a couple of months, he would have an artificial leg and his life would resume as if his cycling accident had never happened.

 

Douglas celebrated his eighteenth. He was now legally an adult and had access to and responsibility for the large amount of reparations he had been granted. Mr and Mrs Lewis offered to arrange a party for Douglas but when he tried to think of people to invite and how much his parents disliked seeing disabled people, he thought better of it and decided to celebrate later, somewhere away from home. He would have wanted his amputee friends as guests – Dillon with one artificial leg, Ted with two hooks, Luke with an extravagantly displayed leg stump and Peter on two of the shortest possible steel stubbies. And Travis, of course, on two artificial legs, but Travis was in Scotland and would not have been able to attend.

 

Both Douglas and Luke had appointments for prosthetic fittings during the same week. Douglas was due to receive a new pair of arms with sockets better tailored to his stumps, which had gradually reduced in size and stabilised. They both opted for standard black carbon sockets. Luke’s leg was the most basic model with a mechanical knee and a single aluminium pylon terminating in a pink rubber foot with no dedicated ankle joint. His prosthetist explained that he was entitled to a more natural looking leg with a cosmetic cover and a more active ankle but Luke reasoned that he had long wanted an artificial leg and therefore it should also look and operate like one. Douglas’s new set of arms looked imposing and he requested short forearms again without additional articulation. He liked the solid reliability of his hooks fixed directly to the forearms. The new pair featured arms terminating in hemispherical steel connector units which added some extra bling and matched well with his steel hooks. It was a set of prostheses for an adult male – severe and austere and superbly comfortable to wear and use.

 

Luke wore his new leg a few times with the cut-off jeans he had worn with his plaster casts. The prosthesis was visible in its entirety, from the black socket down to the white tennis shoe on his foot. Luke limped quite heavily, partly on purpose. But he wanted to feel and look more disabled. His desire for another amputation had not lessened after acquiring his thigh stump. Luke left his leg off and took up his blond wooden axillary crutches again and wore cargo shorts to allow his stump to peep out of the trouser leg, especially when he sat. His parents were a little nonplussed by Luke’s preference but he was a man now and could make up his own mind about how his body should look. Luke began to seek advice about having a second amputation, an elective amputation which would result in a second similar leg stump. He was enamoured by Douglas’s description of Peter’s minuscule stubbies and his rolling gait and very short steps. He would have longer stumps but wanted stubbies for himself. Cylindrical ones to encase his thighs in which he could clomp around, swinging his stumps and arms for balance. He could also imagine wearing a short peg leg and using cut-down crutches. He kept his fantasies private. It was not yet time.

 

His grandmother chose a retirement home in Surrey. Instead of waiting for his inheritance, Luke decided to buy the Kingston apartment. The old lady would be able to afford her care for many years with the proceeds and Luke could begin conversion and redecoration of its two rooms. The end result should have a combined kitchen and living room, a bedroom with ample closet space and a bathroom suitable for a couple of double amputees. Glazing would be renewed and insulation improved. Work started in late summer. The old parquet flooring was stripped of its old varnish and renovated. The result looked like new. The kitchen was accessible to someone sitting in a wheelchair. Plumbing was operable by an arm amputee’s bare stumps. The low sumptuous leather furniture was mahogany brown, the kitchen an expanse of stainless steel and white. Luke planned on moving in the following January and hoped that Douglas would be able to join him shortly after.

 

Douglas graduated from Langley with excellent results and was eligible to start further studies at a business‑oriented college. This time, Peter was sad to see his friend leave. It was unlikely that another bilateral arm amputee would appear to take his place. His future roommate would probably be a quadriplegic in a wheelchair. Time would tell. Douglas announced to his parents that he was moving out. He had a flat share in Kingston with his amputee friend Luke. They got on well together and Douglas would not be far away. They could all see each other often enough. His parents were pleased about the arrangement. It was time for Douglas to become independent and they knew Luke understood Douglas’s limitations and disability. Douglas moved at the end of January. The boys slept together, holding each other, Luke with his broad hands, Douglas with his short stumps, keeping each other warm, enjoying the sensation of smooth warm skin on skin.

 

Neither had yet decided on their futures. Luke revealed his considerable inherited wealth, many millions to which he had access up to a certain amount annually. Douglas also felt financially secure and was open to Luke’s suggestion that instead of trying to study further in order to land a job in an ever more volatile market, they should create their own business from home. They could start a YouTube channel showing how two disabled youngsters managed daily life. It would act as a so-called inspirational channel for voyeurs and be educational for other amputees. It was easy enough to set up and they created another channel on TikTok for short videos. They showed off their prostheses and their stumps while demonstrating how they led otherwise normal lives in their spotless stylish apartment somewhere in London. Over the following year, they accrued over a million followers and monetarised their YouTube channel. It brought in an adequate sum each month. Luke faced his followers and announced that it was necessary for him to undergo a second amputation and he hoped fans everywhere would excuse him for a few weeks. Douglas would be continuing to post new videos and would be interviewing some of his amputee friends in the mean time.

 

Luke had received Douglas’s blessing for his second amputation. It was to be performed by a skilled surgical team in Bangkok, where he would stay until the new stump was robust enough to allow him to travel home. His prosthetist had agreed in advance to produce a pair of cylindrical stubbies for the new bilateral amputee. Douglas escorted Luke to the airport and squeezed his chest with his black prosthetic arms. Three days later, Luke’s right leg was amputated above the knee, leaving him a bilateral above knee amputee. His good humour and excitement at his new configuration aided his recovery and, as planned, he returned to London in a wheelchair. Luke’s parents were aghast to hear of the second amputation but could make little sense of the convoluted excuse Luke had concocted. It was all due to a minor accident which he had ignored but the wound had turned septic and infected the bone and before he even realised, he was seriously ill and only a second amputation could save him. He held them at bay, not wanting them to interfere with his further plans. Two months after his return, he had his first pair of thick carbon resin stubbies, with thick rubber soles. He stood considerably shorter than Douglas. Their YouTube ratings surged due to the many new videos Douglas made of his roommate’s identical stumps and the grotesque stubbies.

 

Douglas had invited both Dillon and Ted to visit while Luke had been away and they had both proved popular with the subscribers. Luke had met Ted once before but Dillon was a new acquaintance. Douglas was very happy to rekindle their old friendship. Dillon was working in logistics and was engaged to be married. His wife-to-be was attractive, intelligent and an admirer. She loved to fondle Dillon’s stump before they made love. It was a marriage made in heaven, said Dillon. She worked in a kindergarten and had long ago decided that she most certainly did not want children of her own. Dillon was satisfied to go along with that.

 

Luke gently introduced Douglas to the carnal pleasures of gay sex. They had slept together for about two years, often with Luke on top of Douglas, attempting to grasp his friend with his legs which no longer existed. Douglas in turn tried to hug Luke closer to him with invisible arms. Luke instructed Douglas on how to relieve himself inside Luke. Shortly after, Douglas allowed himself to be penetrated by his legless lover. At the age of twenty-one, he lost his virginity to his amputee lover but never regarded himself as being a homosexual. He was not interested in experimenting with anyone else. It was something intensely private for Luke and himself.

 

Luke was still dissatisfied with his body. He was completely at ease with his leglessness and he loved wearing the fat black stubbies and watching the reactions of the public. All his neighbours and shopkeepers in local shops knew him and accepted him but he garnered odd looks from strangers when he ventured further afield. One Sunday morning he broached the subject which had been tormenting him for many months.

            – What would you say if I became a hook user like you?

            – I wouldn’t say anything. Is that what you’ve been thinking about all this time? I knew you were planning something.

            – You’ve been reading my thoughts.

            – And you’ve also left photos open on your laptop which I’ve seen. Let me guess. You want stumps the same as Nevada Jim.

            – Yup. What would you think if I came back from Bangkok like Jim?

            – I would think you’re a nutcase. I love feeling your hands on my body.

            – I’d still have forearm stumps. I’m not going to be as shorthanded as you are.

            – I know. Have you talked it over with Dr Gill?

            – Yeah. He said he doesn’t do arms but he referred me to one of his colleagues who said he didn’t anticipate any problem in providing a pair of basic below elbow arms. So you’d be OK with it?

            – Yes, I’d be OK with it. It would be cool to live with another hook user. Apart from Ted, there’s no-one else I’ve ever met with two hooks.

            – Talking of Ted, did you know he has CRPS in his feet?

            – No! Where did you hear that?

            – He told me last time he was here.

            – Why didn’t he tell me?

            – I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him. Anyway, you won’t reject me and throw me out if I get myself a pair of arm stumps.

            – No, I won’t and I could hardly throw you out of your own apartment.

            – That’s settled then.

 

Luke returned to the same Thai team which had crafted his right leg stump and they worked on creating matching arm stumps which were approximately half as long as his former forearms. The stumps were well rounded with all scarring at the back. They were beautiful and four weeks after departure, Douglas met his quadruple amputee lover at the airport with his own personal wheelchair. He drove them home to Kingston in their converted electric MiniX which was adapted for both the handless Douglas and the legless Luke to operate. Unknown to Luke, Douglas had organised a Welcome home party, attended by Ted, Dillon, Peter and Travis, about whom Luke had heard so much but never met. Travis had completed his studies and had returned to a job in the south. They all congratulated Luke on sculpting his body to such a degree that he could comfortably wear four prosthetic limbs. He had long and useful arm stumps and long powerful leg stumps. Ted was the group’s only other quad, having lost his feet the previous summer. He had a pair of below knee prostheses with short pylons and articulating ankles. With luck, his bout with CRPS which had cost him his hands and feet was at an end. Douglas videoed the meeting of old friends with their many prosthetic limbs and would edit it for their channels.

 

Luke’s parents disowned him. They now suspected that their son had organised all of his amputations and refused to accept it. Luke had already gained access to his money but there would be no more. Their wills were altered to exclude him and they struck the quadruple amputee from their lives. Luke was embarrassed at being slighted by his own parents but weighed the situation up as he lay in bed with Douglas, both of them trying to hug the other with whatever flesh they had remaining. They made love often and woke each morning to reassemble themselves with the prosthetic limbs which they fetishised and depended on.

 

THE HEAT OF DEW