Whatever Happened to John Smith?

 

WHATEVER HAPPENED

TO JOHN SMITH?

An alarming tale of limblessness by strzeka  (10/23)

 

P R O L O G U E

 

Featured in ‘Whatever Happened to Brenton Harter?’*, nineteen year old Johan Schneider met John Smith and Brenton Harter while on a summer study course in Torquay. He returned home to Karlsruhe to his unsuspecting parents wearing a full‑length plaster cast to conceal a fresh thigh stump.

 

* See January 2022

 

SEPTEMBER 2031

 

The plaster cast had fooled his parents at the airport. They were waiting together, impatient to see their beautiful son again after his first foreign adventure. Johan walked carefully on his pristine cast, on show for everyone to see. He had snipped the trouser leg of his jeans off to expose it.

            – Are you alright? What on earth happened, Johan?

            – Well, you know they drive on the left in England? I wasn’t paying attention and stepped out into the road when I was looking the wrong way and a car hit me. It was my fault. But don’t worry. Everything is OK and it doesn’t hurt. Is the car a long way away?

            – In the car park. Two hundred metres. Here, give me your suitcase.

Johan heaved his stump forward and the threesome made their way to their Audi and then home. Both his parents were relieved to have their son home, more or less safe and sound. Johan gave a demonstration of how well he now spoke English, thanks not to the facile language course but to the three weeks spent living with John Smith and his master Brenton. His parents were delighted and proud of their boy’s success.

 

Later, after a hearty supper, they were sitting together when his father made the enquiry which Johan had been dreading.

            – Johan, I don’t understand how your foot can be inside that cast. Why is the tip closed? Should it not be open to the air?

His father leaned forward to inspect the bulbous closed end of the plaster prosthesis. Johan selected one of the several conversations he had imagined in preparation for this unavoidable moment.

            – Well, the truth of the matter… Er, you remember I said I was hit by a car? Actually, it did more damage than just break my leg.

            – How so? What do you mean?

            – Mother, father, please don’t be angry with me for lying. You can see that I am healthy and happy, so don’t be too concerned when I tell you. You see, the accident was quite serious and in the hospital, they… I have lost my leg. To about here.

Johan scratched a line with a fingernail across his cast, just above the knee.

            – What? What do you mean ‘lost’?

            – I am an amputee.

 

His parents were dumbfounded. They looked at each other for confirmation that they had understood and at the smooth white plaster cast which terminated in an obviously unnatural bulge. How could they have missed it? Why was Johan wearing a cast if he was an amputee? It was all too sudden. Too shocking. Johan wished the earth would open up and swallow him. Why did they say nothing?

 

            – I want to see it. Come with me to your bedroom.

Johan looked at his father standing over him and pushed himself up. His mother watched the cast clomp across the room behind her husband. She heard Johan’s bedroom door click shut.

            – Are you telling me the truth, Johan? I know about your amputee fetish.

Johan was even more uncomfortable.

            – How? What do you mean?

            – I have checked the browsing history and the contents of the old hard drives from your laptops, Johan. I have known for years that you are obsessed with amputees. I have allowed it because it did not seem to affect your education or private life. I believe now that I should have seen it as a warning.

            – No! Nothing like that! I just… they look the way I wish I could look. I never thought it would happen. I don’t mean to hurt you and mother. I know it’s a shock. But I’m fine with it. It doesn’t hurt and I am happy to have an artificial leg.

            – Yes, I’m sure you are. Show me the stump.

Johan gripped the cast and pulled his long stump out of it. The stump had two stump socks and a silicone liner on it. The plaster cast fit perfectly. Johan balanced on one leg and his father looked at the long thigh stump which his son bore now for the rest of his life. He slapped his thighs and stood up.

            – I don’t believe your story about a traffic accident. No low speed traffic accident would cause you to lose a leg. I don’t know how you did this but I don’t believe it was an accident.

Johan looked at his father and averted his eyes. He bowed his head.

            – No.

            – Well, my boy. You will live with the consequences for the rest of your life. I will not tell your mother and neither will you. Get yourself an artificial leg as soon as possible and learn to use it.

Johan felt beaten once again by his father. He had managed to turn something as beautiful as his stump into something shameful and embarrassing. His father left, leaving Johan to contemplate his legs. The long one and the stump. He touched the end through the socks and liner. He could feel nothing. It was wonderful. ‘Get yourself an artificial leg’ his father had said. He would. And more.

 

 

 

 

MARCH 2033

 

With no help or advice from his parents, Johan contacted the health service and was directed to a prosthetics clinic on the other side of Karlsruhe. He had not reached the age of twenty yet and was still eligible for an artificial limb wholly subsidised by the state. His next one, warned his prosthetist, would be only seventy percent. Johan said he understood. Several weeks later, he took possession of a prosthetic leg with a long black thigh socket and a mechanical knee. The lower leg was a mere aluminium shaft leading to an artificial foot with a rubber cover. Johan was already wily enough to demand a peg leg terminus to his pylon which he could exchange for the foot.

 

Johan yearned to show off his leg to John Smith. They had exchanged a few text messages and sent each other Christmas greetings. As the spring term at university came to its end and with almost a month before its resumption, Johan dared suggest he pay a visit to John Smith and Brenton. The next day, unusually late, a reply arrived.

            – welcome! tell me arrival time, will meet u.

It was an unusually terse reply. John Smith usually wrote long replies with many exchanges and never used abbreviations.

 

John Smith waited just outside the customs exit at St Pancras for his friend. Johan was wearing his foot and shoe. His peg leg attachment was in his suitcase. He stopped short five metres from his lover, shocked to see what John Smith had become. John Smith raised a hook and smiled the old smile which had made him fall in love.

            – Hello Johan! Welcome back! It’s good to see you again.

John Smith hugged Johan with both hooks. He was still too surprised to comment. His erection began to make itself felt.

            – Let’s go to the car and you can tell me all your news. It’s so good to see you again. Thank you for coming.

            – It’s nothing. John, you have hooks!

            – I know. I got my first one a year ago and the second one in October. I also have a new leg stump. You haven’t seen it yet. I’ll show you later. Come on, let’s go.

John took the lead. Johan looked at John’s feet. He was using a peg leg and an artificial leg. Johan became more erect than he had ever been. John Smith was limbless. Johan began to ejaculate. They climbed into Brenton’s electric car. John Smith removed his peg leg and held it in both hooks for Johan.

            – Put this on the floor somewhere, will you?

Johan took the long prosthesis with its screw mechanism and imagined how the naked John Smith looked with four artificial limbs. His penis pumped its last glob of sperm into his trousers. He sat back, tired from the trip and too excited by the prospect of seeing his lover’s new body to engage in conversation. His crotch was wet and he could smell his sperm. John Smith poked at controls with a hook, started the motor and clamped a hook onto the joystick. The tiny car reversed out of its parking spot and they made their way through the northern suburbs to Aylesbury at twenty‑five miles an hour.

 

Johan noticed that John Smith had changed in other ways too. His head was shaved completely bald and it shone. John Smith seemed to have lost some of his boyish innocence since they were last together two summers ago. He had grown up a lot, become more of an adult.

            – Tell me about the university life, Johan. Do you have lots of friends?

            – Oh, it is quite interesting, the work. I study for five days and then at the weekend it is time for a party. I live in a flat with my own bedroom. We are three boys together. They study math and Greek history. I study German literature and English. I want to be a teacher.

            – Are the other boys amputees?

            – Oh no! They are normal. I think there is only one other man at university who has a false leg but we have never talked to each other.

            – I am interested in seeing your prosthesis, Johan. Do you like using it?

            – Yes, of course. It is very sexy to wear such a thing, I think. I love to feel the socket like a long round tube. I have something extra too for the foot. I have a peg leg. I can change the foot for a peg leg.

            – Really? I’m looking forward to seeing that.

John Smith watched the road and concentrated on driving. It was like being in a taxicab with a complete stranger.

 

Brenton had approved of Johan’s visit. He was pleased the boy was on his way. He was looking forward to talking to him. He hoped seeing the new John Smith was to his liking. If his amputee fetish was still as strong as it had been in Torquay, he might be returning home with another stump. Or two. Brenton had forewarned the others that their services might be needed in the near future and not to venture too far. Garret had set up his own photographic studio, Jame was on a post‑graduate course learning orthotics and prosthetics and Judson, the scion, had left uni with a bachelor’s degree in literature without the slightest idea of what to do next. However, his family’s considerable wealth made it a less immediate problem.  Brenton heard the gate screech open and the crunch of gravel. He looked out to see his car return.

 

It took John Smith a minute or two to reattach his peg leg. He sat sideways in his seat with the door open to have enough room. It was awkward to manoeuvre his left arm, the one with the artificial elbow, so he could grasp the peg firmly enough to hold it in place. It was not easy without the sense of touch. He had not expected to be so completely disabled by the loss of four limbs. His prosthetic limbs were difficult to use and he could not feel anything with them. He could sense Johan’s impatience after the long drive. Too bad—he would have to wait.

 

            – Ready. At last. Come on. Out you get. Let’s go and see what Brenton has made for dinner.

 

Johan glanced at John Smith’s face. He was looking over the car’s roof at something, not at him. The feeling that something was wrong intensified. He opened his door and manually positioned his artificial leg before trying to stand on it. He held onto the car for balance and reached for his suitcase. Putting on a brave face, he closed the door and looked at John Smith. John Smith fumbled with his keys and pressed a button to lock the car. He heaved himself around and walked towards the entrance, concentrating on swinging his peg leg and feeling resistance before kicking his short stump, bringing the prosthetic leg forward. He regretted allowing Brenton to disarticulate his leg with every step he took. The void where there was once a leg was too extreme. But there was no way back now. Johan, in turn, negotiated the uneven surface carefully. It would be easier to walk on with his peg leg attachment. He would show it to John Smith when they got inside.

 

Brenton heard the lift arrive and their irregular footsteps. He assumed the position of a welcoming host, facing the front door, ready to welcome the guest. He suspected that Johan’s trip from London had not been much to his taste. John Smith was a changed man after the amputation of his right hand, impatient with a tendency to be churlish.

            – Does the car need charging?

            – Sixty percent left.

John Smith went directly to his bedroom and closed the door.

            – Hello Johan! How good it is to see you again! How are you? On two feet again, I see. Come in and take your jacket off. Sit down. Would you like a drink?

Johan seldom drank but now seemed a suitable opportunity.

            – Yes please. Do you have vodka?

            – Indeed we do. Two large vodkas coming up.

Brenton had three glasses set out on the kitchen countertop. The cap on the bottle needed only a nudge to dislodge. Brenton gripped the bottle and tilted his body until the liquid poured. John Smith could pour his own.

            – Welcome! To your good health.

Brenton leant back to drink his shot. Johan thought him to be severely disabled by his full‑length arm prostheses and hooks but there was none of the halting effort apparent which he had noticed eighteen months ago. Brenton had obviously learned to use his artificial arms better or got used to them in the intervening time. John Smith’s bedroom door swung open and his friend appeared in a wheelchair, pushing and pulling on two levers to propel himself. John Smith looked extremely disabled. Almost completely legless with two hooks. He was wearing boxer shorts and a leather jerkin. Nothing else. It looked shocking to see the straps and cables and harnessing which enveloped his friend’s shoulders. John Smith pumped his way into the lounge, facing them.

            – Do you want a drink?

            – Yes, I’d like a drink.

            – Shall I get it?

John Smith stared at Brenton.

            – Yes please.

Both leg amputees watched the ease with which Brenton rose from his chair. How useful it was to have two knees. Johan hefted his artificial leg and placed it so it rested without exerting any pressure on his long stump, identical to that which John Smith had the last time they were together. Johan loved to see the artificial foot pointing up at an angle. Brenton returned with a straight glass holding a double of vodka. He held it patiently in front of John Smith. Their hooks interfered with each other. John Smith nodded and Brenton withdrew his farmer’s hook. John Smith inspected his grip on the glass and brought it toward his lips. He leaned forward to reach the glass and leaned back against the canvas backing of his wheelchair, emptying the glass in one go. Brenton smirked and struck his hooks together in a prosthetic mimicry of a clap.

            – Well, that didn’t take long. Another? Shall I bring the bottle?

            – Yes please, Brenton. That would be very nice.

            – I’m sure it would. What about you, John Smith? Another? And another?

John Smith nipped his empty glass and held it up for Brenton. Johan was becoming uncomfortable to see how unhappy his friend seemed.

            – I’ll fetch the bottle. Put your glass down, boy.

Brenton brought the vodka and refilled their glasses carefully, gripping the bottle with two hooks, leaning precariously. He had felt he had mastered his artificial arms over a year ago. He knew their limitations but had become familiar with the odd movements required to operate them and no longer regarded them as completely alien devices. They had become familiar and felt comfortable. It was sometimes odd to use a hook or two for simple things which before took seconds and now took minutes but he was used to it. His initial frustration had dissipated into acceptance which had developed into capability. He regarded himself as a man who did things differently, no longer a man who was unable to do what he wanted. He knew how to control his arms and operate the hooks. His mental state had improved while John Smith’s had deteriorated. It was not surprising. The boy had been rushed through four amputations in little more than a year and realised too late that the stumps he had longed for were mere appendages on which to suspend artificial limbs, with the exception of his disarticulation, which even Brenton realised was too severe a change. It would have been better to leave John Smith with his original long stump and amputate the other leg halfway up his thigh. But what was done was done. The man now reclining in his lever‑operated wheelchair with a vacant stare, legless and with hooks for hands, had been mistreated. Perhaps he would regain his enthusiasm for his amputations but for the time being, he was having a difficult time of it and being with him was less than pleasant.

 

            – Johan! Tell us about your trip. You started out yesterday morning, didn’t you?

            – Yes. There were two trains to Strasbourg, then an express to Paris. I had to stay in a hotel and then I caught the tunnel train to London.

            – That sounds very interesting. Tell us about your stump. What did your parents think?

            – Oh, my father was very angry at first, I think. He knew that I was interested in amputees, but I did not know.

            – How did he know?

            – When I got a new computer, he would take out the disk and look at the pictures on his computer. So he has seen all the amputee photos I have collected. I did not know it was possible to see photos from an old computer.

            – What did he say about your stump?

            – He said he knew I would have a stump one day. 

            – He was right. Listen Johan. I have asked my friends to stay at Menard House again while you are here. I know you want another stump, and we have time to amputate if you want. I suggest that you have a left arm stump so you can use a hook.

            – Oh, that sounds very interesting. Let me think about it.

            – John Smith will show you his stumps later. You can choose the kind of stump you’d prefer and the team will give you what you want.

John Smith, Brenton’s living example of four different types of amputation, returned his attention to his guest and smiled. He shrugged and jerked his shoulder and held out a steel hook towards Johan.

            – It would be wonderful if you had a hook, Johan. Just think how handsome it would be to have two stumps on the same side. A long leg stump and a hook.

Johan was delighted that John Smith had rejoined the conversation. It was true. A hook would be a most excellent companion for his stump. This time his parents would have nothing to say about it. He had hardly spoken to them after he moved out. He knew they disapproved of who he wanted to be. He wanted to be a multiple amputee. Here in England, quite unexpectedly, it was possible to get an arm stump. Perhaps he could get John Smith into a better mood when they were together and they could talk about what kind of stump would suit Johan best.

 

The three men finished the bottle before the evening was over. John Smith shrugged off his jerkin and suggested that Johan assist him in the bathroom before bedtime. Brenton lifted a hook in dismissal and returned to the film he was watching on his phone. John Smith hooked onto his wheelchair’s levers and rotated himself to face the bathroom. Johan went in front and opened the door wide. 

            – Do you want to help me or do you want to see me use my hooks?

            – I will help you, John Smith, but I would like to see you use hooks first. I am sorry it is so difficult for you. John, why did you want to lose your hands?

            – It was Brenton. He suggested it would attract more wannabes when we were out touting for business if people saw me as a quad. Walking around in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt with a peg leg and two hooks—what man interested in amps wouldn’t be fascinated? But he lied to me.

            – What do you mean?

            – I can’t use my crutches with my hooks. I have to use this wheelchair.

            – It looks very smart. I like the way you use your hooks to move it.

            – It makes me very tired. And I always need Brenton to help. I can’t do any of the wheelchair tricks which other men can do. Brenton promised me that I would use my hooks for everything, just like hands. But he knows how difficult it is to use artificial arms. Why did he lie to me, Johan?

            – I don’t know.

John Smith manoeuvred his chair closer to the toilet bowl and used his short thigh stump to drag himself closer. He tugged at his shorts with his right hook until his penis was free. He let his urine flow. He gripped a towel and used both hooks to spread it next to the basin. He moved as close to it as possible and loosened his dentures, allowing them to drop onto the towel. He spat and leaned back into his wheelchair and struggled with both hooks to sit upright again. He had to be at a precise distance from the levers in order to use them.

            – I will get my washing bag.

 

They completed the bathroom ritual and as Johan both led and followed, John Smith escorted his guest to his small bedroom. There were a couple of cushions on the floor to serve as chairs and a thin mattress on the floor. One side of the bed had a pillow with a depression in it. The other side had a new one.

            – Do you need help, John Smith?

            – Lift me onto the bed, please.

John Smith set to removing his artificial arms. He left them next to his bed, knowing he needed them immediately the next morning before he could do anything. Johan did not like to see them on the floor and offered to hang them from the low hooks by the bed intended for that purpose.

            – OK. Thank you, Johan.

Johan in turn undressed and doffed his artificial leg. He had no compunction about leaving it parallel with the mattress. He sometimes hopped around for half an hour in the mornings at home but he was too fond of his prosthesis to leave it off for any length of time. It was a handsome piece of equipment and he was proud to own such a thing at his young age. He had always known that he would be an amputee one day. His visit to England two summers ago when he had fallen in love with a very different John Smith had allowed him to gain his first stump much sooner than he ever imagined. He stood one-legged looking down at the untidy torso watching him. He wanted to say that John Smith looked magnificent with three stumps and an empty hip. Instead he felt pity for the chaotically disabled body. He lowered himself onto the mattress and pulled the divan over them both.

            – May I touch you, John Smith?

            – Yes.

            – Tell me about your arm stumps. They are not the same.

            – No. First we did my left arm. Jame cut it off above my elbow so I have a long stump. It’s like Brenton’s stumps but much longer. He said I would wear an artificial arm like his. And I liked them, Johan! I liked to see him using his hooks and the way he moved his body to bend his arm. But it’s so difficult! And he said he wanted me to have a long stump so it would always poke out of my T‑shirts so everyone can see it and I hate it! People always stare at me. Sometimes he said I should leave the artificial arm at home when we went somewhere so people could just look at the stump.

            – I’m sorry, John Smith. But I like to look at stumps like that too. I think you have a very nice arm stump. May I touch it?

            – If you want.

John Smith was good enough to raise it. Johan’s warm hands caressed the tip of the stump. It was round and he could feel the end of the bone inside a layer of muscle. The arm was a little narrower than he remembered. Perhaps it always happened to stumps. His leg had shrunken and now he needed more liners.

            –And the other one is longer, is it not?

            – Yes. Brenton wanted me to have different stumps so when people looked at me, they could choose what sort they wanted. I can use my right hook much better than the other one.

            – But the stump is quite short after the elbow.

            – I know. I need a special kind of prosthesis with like a metal hinge to make my elbow stronger. It holds my arm firmly so I can’t move it around so much. Even though I have my own elbow still, my prosthesis is like the other one. The elbow is very difficult to use.

            – Is that why you are unhappy, John Smith? I am so sorry to see you sad. You have four wonderful stumps and you are sad. I don’t understand.

            – I can’t explain.

Johan put his arms around John Smith’s body and hugged him tight. He expected John Smith to do the same, like he had done in the hotel on the first night they spent together when they had lost their virginity to each other. He could feel John Smith’s stumps on his ribcage. Perhaps John Smith was sad because he could never hug anyone ever again.

 

Next morning, John Smith awoke first and started preparations to rise and make breakfast. Johan helped him into his wheelchair and held the artificial arms while John Smith stuffed his stumps into them. They went for a pee first and then to the kitchen. Johan insisted on doing the work while John Smith explained what their morning routine was. Brenton always wanted a lot of coffee. He ate toast with ginger marmalade. John Smith ate müesli. Johan would eat müesli too. He had not yet donned his prosthesis and hopped around the kitchen just like he did at home. John Smith stared at the long stump and down at his own, which Brenton had recommended be reduced to half its original length. It was still suitable to use with an artificial leg but it did not look nearly as good as Johan’s. Johan had not wanted to see his disarticulation. He had not even talked about John Smith’s leg amputations. It was as if they were so far from what Johan was interested in that he simply ignored them. John Smith hated his short thigh stump. It would almost be better to have another disarticulation, to become totally legless. Then he would have a body socket and a proper wheelchair. Brenton entered the kitchen and greeted the leg amputees.

 

            – Good morning, you two. I hope you slept well. You were together, I assume?

            – Yes, sir. John Smith allowed me to share his bed.

            – Good, good. Is coffee ready?

            – In two minutes, Brenton. I wanted to ask you something. May I have the car today?

            – You feel you can drive, John Smith?

            – Yes sir. I don’t have a hangover, sir.

            – I suppose you want to show Johan some of the countryside, do you?

            – Yes sir. It would be good to catch up on my friend’s news.

            – Very well. Johan, would you like to go for a ride with a man who has no hands?

            – Of course, sir. I would be proud to see my friend driving with his hooks.

            – Tell me, Johan. Do you like John Smith’s hooks? Was it a shock to see them?

            – I like them very much. They make John Smith look much more like a man. I was shocked at the station to see them but I understand why he wants to have hooks. I like the way he must use the long arm.

            – The one like I use. Yes, it is why I suggested John Smith’s first arm amputation is above his elbow. So he can understand what it is like to have no elbow. I think he understands now, don’t you, John Smith?

            – Yes sir.

Johan thought that even the friendship between John Smith and Brenton was broken. It did not sound amiable.

 

John Smith suggested that they visit a pretty village called Missenden. Johan could take some photographs of the English countryside. There were so few places which looked nice.

            – Would you help me with my legs, Johan?

            – Of course.

 

John Smith pumped his way back to his bedroom. His leg prostheses leaned against the wall. One looked like a normal prosthesis with a short socket and pylon, a knee mechanism, more pylon and a foot, presently inserted into a black shoe. The other was a large curving socket which enveloped half of John Smith’s pelvis. It was held on by elastic belts which took several minutes for John Smith to attach with his hooks. There was a hinge at the front of the socket to which John Smith’s peg leg was attached. The peg was simply one long pylon with a rubber ferrule at the end.

            – Why don’t you have a real prosthesis, John Smith? Have you learned to walk on two false legs?

            – Yes, I have learned. I had to. Brenton insisted that I learn to walk on two prosthetic legs and we went out on a two week trip to a town called Bournemouth but it was so difficult for me to walk, Johan. I fell so many times. Brenton was very angry and said that no‑one who saw me would ever want to have a stump of their own. So we had to come home and after that, Jame or one of the others suggested that a peg leg would be easier for me. And it is. So now I use a peg leg on my disarticulated side and an artificial leg on the other leg. This is how I was when I met you at the station, do you remember?

            – Yes. Now I understand. I was too shocked by your hooks, I did not think about your peg leg.

John Smith lifted his hooks out of the loops at the ends of the straps which held the socket to his pelvis.

            – Help me up, please Johan. I have no knees. It is almost impossible for me to get up.

            – How do you usually get up?

            – Brenton holds me. He holds me too tight. I had bruises on my arms before I lost them.

Johan was beginning to think that he had made a huge mistake in coming to see his friend. Not only had he become severely disabled, he was unhappy and his master was not friendly towards him. Before there had been some kind of respect and admiration. Now there was just annoyance that John Smith was disabled.

 

John Smith was upright. His left hook pointed forward at ninety degrees. He jerked his upper arm and the forearm fell.

            – I’m ready. Let’s go to the car.

Brenton was still eating breakfast.

            – May I have the keys to the car, please, sir?

            – Are you going to be long?

            –No, sir. Only two or three hours.

            – Good. We will have a discussion later about your amputation, Johan. Jame is coming for lunch. Please don’t be late.

            – No sir.

            – The car key is in the left pocket of my jacket.

            – Thank you, sir.

 

Johan offered an arm for John Smith as they walked across the uneven ground to the car. John Smith detached his peg leg outside, handed it to Johan and opened the door to the tiny e‑car. It had served them well without a single fault for over five thousand kilometres. Johan squeezed into the rear seat and lifted his prosthesis into a comfortable position. John Smith hooked his leg prosthesis inside and rocked from side to side as he searched for the ignition key by ear and twisted his body to start the motor. His left artificial arm hung down unused and unnecessary. John Smith fed his right hook into the control ring on the joystick and they were shortly on their way to Missenden. John Smith had wanted to get Johan on his own so he could talk to him.

 

            – Johan, why did you come here? Was it to see me? Or is there something more? Do you want another amputation?

            – Of course I wanted to see you, John Smith. I loved you. And I love you now. You are so sad. But I love your new stumps and your new peg leg and black arms and hooks. It is more than I thought I would see. Why did you not tell me of the new amputations?

            – Brenton forbade me. He said I must not tell anyone.

            – Do you love him? Why do you stay with him? I think there is no love now.

            – No, there is no love. I have to stay with him because I am so disabled. Sometimes he helps me.

            – But you must still do work. You make the breakfasts.

            – I can’t explain, Johan. It is how it is.

 

There was silence for the twenty minutes it took for John Smith to find the spot he was looking for. He had come here before when his mind was in turmoil after he became legless and on another occasion, after his left arm was amputated. He wanted to reassure himself that he could still drive, still be independent, regardless of his limblessness. He had remained in the car. He was still wearing his training peg and a stubby leg on the left. He was too shy to leave the car, to display his three artificial limbs in public. Brenton had shortly put an end to that and paraded him around in Bournemouth. He was not ready and had fallen several times. Brenton had made him feel foolish. His fourth amputation was already booked and it was impossible for him to avoid it. They took his right hand and he was left with a stump which could feel nothing, only useful for pushing into a socket with a hook on the end. Sometimes he enjoyed seeing his dual hooks. It would have been fun to walk around with them, showing them off and becoming gradually more dexterous. Then he looked at the sole remnant of his legs and realised he would never be strolling around anywhere ever again.

 

The early summer greenery looked fresh and promising. There were no other vehicles nearby. A cabin at the other end of the lay‑by sold ice cream.

            – Help me with my peg leg, please Johan.

            – Yes, of course. Is it easy to walk on a long peg leg?

            – It is easier than a normal artificial leg. There is no knee so it is very secure, very safe. But it is inconvenient that it does not bend. It is always straight and it is difficult to get in the car.

            – I also have a peg leg. It is in my bag. I forgot to show you. It would be fine if we both were wearing our peg legs together.

            – It is so difficult for me, Johan. It’s true that I am getting better now I have a peg leg but I am so tired if I just walk a few hundred metres. And it takes so long for me to walk up stairs.

            – I’m very sorry, John Smith. I am sure it will become easier for you. Look! They sell ice cream. Do you remember that day in Torquay when we ate so much ice cream? I was almost sick.

            – Ha! Yes, I remember. I had my long leg stump, didn’t I? And you were very interested in it. I remember. How do you like it now that you understand what it means to be disabled?

            – Oh, I don’t feel disabled. I love the stump. It looks so strong and powerful. It is quite perfect. And it is long so it is quite easy to wear my prosthesis.

            – Do you wear it for many hours?

            – I think so. I put it on after breakfast and take it off after I get back home from college. I hop in the mornings on one leg and in the evening when I am tired, I use my crutches. And at the weekend I wear the special peg leg instead of the foot. I also think it is easier to walk on the peg leg than the artificial foot.

            – Did you understand what Brenton said to you about another amputation? He wants you to have a hook.

            – I am sorry, John Smith, but I am not ready for a hook. I have so much studying to do to become a teacher. I think I must keep my hands. But it would be a wonderful thing to have a second long leg stump. I would have a peg leg like yours on one stump and nothing on the other. I would walk along with my two wooden crutches and only one peg leg. It would feel so perfect.

            – What would your parents say if you go home with two stumps?

            – Ah, I never see them. I study in Bremen. It is in the north of Germany, far from Karlsruhe. We speak once a week, a video call, and we are polite to each other. But they were very angry about what I did. My father knows it was not an accident. My mother does not know. If I had two stumps, or three stumps or four stumps, they would not know, I think. And it is my body, my life. If I want prosthetic limbs because they are more beautiful than ordinary limbs, it is my life, not theirs.

            – You have thought about it a lot. Do you want me to talk to Brenton about your next leg stump? You want it to be the same as the other, don’t you?

 

John Smith’s indoctrination was so ingrained that his default position was to assist his friend towards increased disability despite his own severe difficulties with his own amputations. Johan had not yet mentioned anything about actually submitting to a second amputation, yet John Smith was already making the initial preparations.

 

            – Yes, a second long leg stump would be a fine thing. I can walk then with two prostheses or on one and crutches, or even just two stubbies. It would be fun to walk on stubbies, I think.

            – Yes, it would. I would like to see you on stubbies, Johan. Maybe just one short peg leg and short crutches. It would look very masculine and handsome to have one short peg leg.

 

Johan grinned at the image of himself negotiating life on one peg leg, despite the ability to appear completely normal with a pair of artificial legs. How would he look when he entered a classroom full of teenagers, a short disabled man balancing on one peg leg? Or sitting in a restaurant with colleagues after work, his single peg leg jutting out horizontally under the table which only he could sense? A steel pylon with a rubber stop to replace both legs.

 

            – I think I would like that, John Smith. Please talk to Brenton and tell him I would like a second stump the same as the first.

 

John Smith was so elated at persuading Johan so easily to relinquish his remaining healthy leg that he found his second strength.

            – Come on, Johan. Let’s go for a walk and see the countryside.

 

John Smith raised his hooks and gripped the handle on the roll bar over his head. He jerked his body forward in an attempt to swing his artificial leg onto the ground. His peg leg swung around, following the angle of his hips. With considerable effort, John Smith lifted himself until his peg leg was at a safe angle to put his weight on and disengaged his hooks, one at a time, so he could push against the frame of the car to straighten himself. He jerked his stump to make sure the artificial leg was rigid and rocked from side to side to position his foot and peg better. Holding onto the door, he held it open for Johan to climb out, guiding his prosthetic leg with his hands until it would land on the ground safely. Johan shuffled back and forth, seeking a good placement from which to swing his prosthesis forward. John Smith allowed the car’s door to swing shut and shrugged his shoulders to seat his harness better across his back. He touched Johan’s sleeve with his right hook.

            – Let’s walk along the road. There is a park further on. We could sit there and talk.

 

Johan offered John Smith his left arm. John Smith placed his right hook through it and the former lovers walked at John Smith’s slow pace along the leafy road. Johan was already imagining himself legless in Brenton’s clinic. He would be returning to Germany on crutches and one prosthetic leg. It seemed too erotic to be true. What if he used his peg leg attachment? And shorts? He would stop traffic!

 

            – Tell me about your school, Johan.

            – It’s a college where we train to be teachers. I did not understand that teachers don’t know everything. They read the lesson the day before, you see, and then they explain everything to the students. That way, it seems they already know everything. I think it is very funny. The things they teach us is about the technical details and the schedules and the national curriculum, you know, the things the students must know at the end of the year.

            – Is it difficult?

            – No, I do not think so but it is important to understand and remember many things. Teachers have to also understand psychology and to watch for things like drugs and weapons.

            – I suppose so. It will be wonderful to stand in front of your students on two artificial legs. They will respect you more for it.

            – Do you think so?

            – Yes, of course.

John Smith’s opinion increased his own impressions. He looked down at the steel hook between his arm. What would it be like to teach a class, writing notes on a chalkboard with a hook? He would need a stump like John Smith’s right arm, not something which did not even reach his elbow. He could see from John Smith’s concentration that it was difficult to use. John Smith’s left arm hung motionless by his side. It did not look natural in any way. Against his better judgement, Johan found it erotic to have an arm with a hook which was difficult to move. He felt the beginnings of another erection. It always happened when he was with John Smith. John Smith twisted his upper body and the useless prosthesis rose to point at the park entrance.

            – Shall we go in there and sit down? I want to ask you more about your new stump.

There were park benches with views over the valley. Johan guided his heavily limping friend to one and held him until John Smith released his knee hinge and lowered himself to his seat. His peg leg protruded. He plucked at the material of his jeans to conceal the narrowness of his pylons, to no avail. Johan sat next to him, looking out over the scenery which looked very un‑English to his eyes. He was reminded of Luxembourg, near his hometown of Karlsruhe, where his family sometimes drove for a day out when he was younger.

 

John Smith knocked on Johan’s socket with his right hook. They were both amused by the mechanical sound.

            – Was it easy to get your prosthesis, Johan? Or were there lots of questions?

            – No, no difficult questions. The doctor said it is clear that I need a prosthesis and so that is what I will have. It was free because I was not yet twenty. Next time I must pay something, not much. If someone asked what happened to me, I said it was a road accident in England. There was always a joke about you driving on the wrong side of the road. And everyone believed me.

            – Well, why not? It’s a good explanation. But how are you going to explain your next amputation? You can’t tell people you went to England again and had another accident.

            – Ha! That would be so funny. Yes, that is exactly what I will tell people. I wonder what they will say? No, John Smith. My idea is this. I will continue to use my prostheses. That is clear. But it will be my only leg. I will be a one‑legged man but the leg is a prosthesis. I can still walk on my crutches, of course. It is easy enough. But I will need crutches on the journey when I return.

            – Don’t worry about that, Johan. You can take my wooden crutches. I will never use them again.

            – Thank you, John Smith. You are very kind. Very sad and very kind. Do you want to tell me why you are so sad?

John Smith looked at his lap. He picked up his left hook with the right and balanced it on his leg stump. He tapped the tips of the hooks together in imitation of a man tapping his fingers together in thought.

            – I am angry at myself because I believed Brenton. Even when I still had a long stump like yours, I knew what it meant to be disabled. Not being able to run or climb steps, having to plan everything in advance so I don’t need to walk far on crutches. You understand, don’t you?

            – Of course. It was the same for me. But I did not think it was a problem. These were things I knew and understood about having my own stump. And now I am already looking forward to having two stumps. It will be perfect to have only one artificial leg but the two beautiful stumps.

            – That is what I should have done. Brenton wanted me to walk on one artificial leg too, just as you want to. So he recommended that I have the disarticulation. No leg at all, no stump. You don’t like the idea of no stump, do you, Johan? You have not asked me about my empty hip?

            – No. It is difficult to know what to ask. I think your peg leg looks very fine and I think you walk on it very well. It looks strong and it makes you look very masculine. It is a fine thing to have a peg leg, John Smith. That is what I am thinking. I would not be sad.

            – But then Brenton suggested we make my long stump into a short stump. I don’t understand what he was thinking. I don’t know why I didn’t refuse.

            – He is a very strong man. He can make stumps seem so perfect.

            – Yes. And I believed him. He said I would walk on one artificial leg with a short stump. But Johan! It is so difficult! There is not enough stump to control a whole artificial leg. And it feels awful when the whole side of my body is just empty. It’s nothing! I hate it. I hate walking the way he wants.

            – But you have the fine peg leg.

            – It was Jame’s suggestion. He could see how unhappy I was and we made it in secret. Brenton was quite angry when he saw me for the first time with a peg leg. He said people would not want an amputation if they saw my peg. He said it makes me look disabled.

            – But we are disabled!

            – Brenton wants us to use our prostheses so well that it’s like we still have our own limbs. That way people will think that it is easy to be disabled and they will want to have a stump of their own.

            – Well, I think it is easy to be disabled. I loved walking with crutches on one leg after the plaster cast broke.

            – Oh! What happened?

            – It was standing in the corner of my bedroom and my mother was doing the vacuum sucking. What do you call it?

            – Vacuum cleaning.

            – Yes. And the rug moved and the plaster cast fell onto the hard floor and it broke at the top. And then I had to use crutches for many weeks until I got my new leg. I loved how I could put the trouser leg into my belt. I could feel the textile on my stump and it felt so nice. Not at the end, of course. That is quite dead.

            – It’s the electrolysis which kills the nerves. I can’t feel anything with my arm stumps.

 

Johan thought about what it must be like to have no sense of touch, not even at the end of your arm stumps. John Smith could never feel anything again. When they were in bed together, he could not feel Johan’s skin. There was no joy in touching his face like they used to two summers ago.

 

            – I think that I will be OK with two leg stumps, John Smith. I am going to ask Brenton for it. Will you come to the clinic with me?

            – Yes, of course. It’s my job to look after the patients.

Johan could not understand how it was possible for John Smith to do something so demanding.

            – We should go home soon, Johan. Brenton has invited Jame for lunch to talk about your new leg stump and he will be angry if we are not there.

Johan rose and helped John Smith up. John Smith lurched into motion, kicking his stump to move the artificial leg and swinging the peg leg around with his empty hip, pushing himself forward over the balancing point. He swung his own stump into motion and followed, watching John Smith’s amazing gait. As always, he began to have an erection.

 

John Smith pulled in next to Jame’s white eMini. He was early. They made their laborious way inside to find Jame and Brenton together in the kitchen enjoying a glass of beer. They greeted the newcomer who said it was good to see them and watched John Smith’s machinations as he walked. John Smith went to his bedroom, debating whether to remove his prostheses or not. He had no idea what scheme Brenton might concoct for the afternoon and decided to wear his legs in the wheelchair. The peg might get in the way but it could not be helped. He slotted his hooks into the rings on the wheelchair’s control levers and pumped his way back to the kitchen. Johan also had a glass of beer and an unopened tin stood on the table.

            – Will you join us, John Smith?

            – Yes please. I will.

            – Shall I ask Jame to open this for you?

John Smith nodded. Jame made an exaggerated effort to open the tin and handed it to John Smith with a smile. He waited until John Smith nodded to indicate that the tin was secure in his hook. This was one thing the reinforcement at his elbow was useful for. It was almost effortless to hold his arm at a suitable angle. The long chrome‑plated fixtures along his arm sockets caught the midday sun and flashed reflections onto the walls.

            – How are you, John Smith? Are you finding things easier these days?

            – If you mean my hooks, things are easier now than they were at the start.

            – It’s been six months. You should be quite the expert by now.

            – It’s not easy with only half an elbow.

            – I suppose not but we agreed that you should have a short stump which would require additional fittings, didn’t we? To give the impression that you are more disabled than you really are?

John Smith’s expression indicated that he did remember. Jame was not being unkind. He was the most understanding of Brenton’s friends and always made sure that the amputations he was about to undertake were exactly what the patient actually wanted. The prospect of wielding two steel hooks to do everything always had seemed so exciting. The reality was quite different but Jame was right—it was no longer as difficult as it had been. Brenton had the advantage of identical prostheses. What he learned through using one applied equally to the other. His own prostheses were different and required different movements and methods of operation. It was twice as hard. He leaned forward to reach his beer and tilted back. He knew what was going to happen. Brenton would ply Johan with beer until the drink loosened his tongue and then they would ask Johan about his upcoming amputations, never considering the alternative that perhaps Johan had merely come to pay John Smith a friendly visit, as he in fact had.

 

            – And how are you liking the amputee life, Johan? Brenton tells me you are studying to become a teacher.

            – It is fine to be an amputee, I think. My stump is exactly how I want, so thank you Jame. My German prosthesis is the most simple kind. The knee is mechanical. I do not want a bionic knee or ankle. My foot is straight from the ankle so if someone who knows about amputation sees me walking, he will know that I have an artificial leg.

            – That’s wonderful. I am happy that you are happy. But your next stump, Johan. What will it be? Would you like a hook like John Smith’s?

            – I have been thinking, Jame. It is not so easy for me to complete my studies with a hook.

 

Johan repeated his train of thought to Jame and Brenton. He could easily continue as a man and a teacher with two artificial legs and in his free time, he wanted to wear one peg leg like John Smith’s and walk with crutches.

            – That sounds wonderful. You would be very crippled. Very disabled. It would feel wonderful to walk with just one peg leg. I think you are quite right, Johan. I assume the second stump will be the same as the first?

            – Yes, just as long. I think it looks better if the leg stumps are the same. Oh sorry, John Smith. I was not thinking.

            – No, think nothing of it. I think so too. I have also been thinking. I want my short stump removed.

            – Don’t be ridiculous, John Smith. How can you wear prostheses without stumps?

            – I can’t. I will always be in a wheelchair. My life will be much easier if I don’t have to walk on these things. You know how difficult it is for me. You were angry at me when I fell. What did you expect after you recommended the short stump?

Brenton was not used to being spoken to by John Smith in this manner.

            – I won’t let you have another disart, if that’s what you think.

John Smith stared at him in defiance. Johan felt uncomfortable again. Jame scratched at some hardened glue stuck to the side of his beer can. Brenton could be quite unreasonable at times. They had all felt the sting of Brenton’s ire at one time or another. Jame thought it quite reasonable to allow John Smith the comparative ease of life in a wheelchair rather than on two precarious artificial legs. He was quite prepared to do the second disarticulation any time. John Smith would need a torso socket after that. Judson could put his casting skills to the test again and make a flat‑based socket John Smith could sit in. For the rest of his life. The only thing left to him then would be to adjust his right stump so it was of equal length with his left above‑elbow stump. Both John Smith and Brenton would be equally disabled. It was one amputation Brenton would heartily agree with. Jame could see that John Smith was still struggling with both arm prostheses. Usually by this time in their recovery, bilateral arm amputees were fairly adept at using their prostheses. There was something wrong somewhere. But he did not want to interfere.

            – Johan, we have everything ready for your new stump. Will Saturday be a good day for you?

            – Do you mean my amputation is on Saturday? Yes, that will be a good day for me.

            – Very good. Brenton, tell Judson and Garret.

            – I know what to do, Jame. Don’t get excited. If you are going to the kitchen, bring us some more beer.

Jame chuckled at the man’s pretence and returned with four new cans of beer. Before Brenton could subject John Smith to new humiliation, he quickly opened them all and passed them around.  Brenton suggested they take their beers to the lounge and sit more comfortably. Johan took John Smith’s and walked slowly behind the wheelchair, watching John Smith’s hooks propel it. It looked so horny. The three men sat in a semicircle and John Smith negotiated his way into a gap which allowed his peg leg to extend without interfering with the others’ movement.

            – Tell us, Johan. What is life like for the disabled in Germany? In England, we now have to pay for artificial limbs, about half of the cost and there is a choice of mechanical joints or one or two American electronic devices.

            – It is much better, I think. Young people get their prostheses free from the state and then after that they, I mean we, must pay about thirty percent. It is OK because we can pay a little each month.

            – So you don’t see young people on crutches on the street with an empty leg?

            – No, not at all. But perhaps a man likes to use only crutches. But he can still have his prosthesis at home.

            – It sounds very good. So does that mean that if you had a hook, you would also get it from the state and pay a little?

            – Yes.

            – Have you thought about it?

            – Of course I have thought about it! I see John Smith’s hooks and I think about how it would be if I could have a hook. You know I will be a teacher, I hope. I think of myself standing at the front of the class, writing on the whiteboard with my right hook.

            – And what is your left hook doing just then?

            – Oh! I don’t think to get a left arm stump, Jame!

 

But from that moment, the idea was seeded in Johan’s imagination. In the extraordinary company of severely disabled men, who both coped with their stumps and prostheses, it seemed incredible to imagine he might continue with arm stumps, beautifully crafted by the man sitting next to him. John Smith’s short stumps were disastrous and Brenton’s were more severe than what he might wish for himself. But a pair of forearm stumps, long enough to let him hold a toothbrush or a spoon or a pen, long enough to grip his artificial legs and attach them to his stumps every morning—those were the kind of arm stumps he could imagine having. He imagined sitting on the side of his bed with an indistinct boyfriend who worshipped his stumps in the background watching him. Riding on the tram to the university in some city, greeting his students and explaining everything with the gestures of two steel hooks. He moved his leg prosthesis to give his erection more room.

 

Not surprisingly, Jame stayed overnight. Everyone had more than enough to drink. When the beer ran out, Brenton produced a bottle of decent whisky and later a bottle of vodka. Four pizzas arrived during the evening but no‑one could remember actually ordering any. Brenton removed his prostheses halfway through the evening and insisted that Jame serve him his drinks. Jame let his sober and serious demeanour slip and succeeded in making Brenton drink more than he had intended. Even John Smith forgot his troubles and flailed his prosthetic arms when he explained something to Jame or Johan. Brenton enjoyed the coolness of the evening air on his stumps. He felt fine. He had effortlessly persuaded Johan to forego his leg. No‑one had mentioned any cost or payment. The simple fact was that the video production of a new AK amputation would bring in thousands during the first weeks and continue to do so for the years ahead. Johan’s new stump would be his way of saying ‘welcome to England’. He chuckled to himself. The man would return limbless if he had his druthers. It might be advantageous to retain John Smith in which case Johan would remain in Brenton’s influence rather than get rid of the miserable cripple who had ruined his own life and Brenton’s plans since he lost his legs. He was never going to walk properly on half a stump.

 

The practised system worked like clockwork. Judson and Garret drove down to Menard House. Brenton drove Johan. John Smith remained at home in Aylesbury.

            – We don’t need you there, John Smith. Stay here and relax. You’ll see Johan next week when he wakes up.

 

Johan’s healthy leg was amputated that evening in the same way as his other had been two summers ago. Garret set up two cameras to video the procedures and was pleased with the performance of his new lenses which allowed extreme close‑up shots from over a metre away. Jame appraised the unconscious young man. A new DAK with long stumps. He was a very lucky man. So many new opportunities to experience a disabled life with leg stumps. From handwalking and stubbies to artificial legs and dual peg legs. All powered by two identical powerful muscular stumps. Quite different from John Smith’s situation. Seeing the sleeping DAK reminded Jame of his conversation with John Smith about a second disarticulation. Obviously it would have to be kept secret from Brenton until the deed was done. Johan would be awake on Wednesday and Brenton would bring John Smith to nurse him. After that, Jame would have a serious talk with John Smith to discover whether it was worth defying Brenton in order to provide a better life situation for John Smith, who had already enough problems with his hooks. Complete leglessness would come as a relief and John Smith could concentrate on learning to live with his prosthetic arms.

 

Jame spent the following days administering to Johan. He allowed the young German to sleep for forty‑eight hours, through the most uncomfortable phase of the electrolysis healing process. By mid‑week, the suture was closed and Jame allowed Johan to gradually waken.

            – Hello Johan. Welcome back. Relax. Everything is fine. You have two healthy stumps.

            – Is John Smith here?

            – No. There’s only me and you. Would you like to have John Smith here? He might be upset to see you with two fine stumps when he is so disabled.

            – Oh. I did not think. Perhaps John Smith will not want to see me. Oh, what have I done?

            – Don’t worry about it. John Smith will be fine. I have a plan. I know how unhappy he is, living with Brenton. Brenton is angry with John Smith because he’s too disabled to use his artificial legs properly.

            – Yes, I know. John Smith explained it to me. And you can see that it is difficult for him to walk. I think a peg leg and artificial leg together is quite difficult.

            – Yes, I expect it is. You won’t have problems like that with your stumps.

            – I love to hear you say that. My stumps!

 

Jame phoned Brenton to announce that Johan was asking for John Smith. Brenton grunted and said he would drive out to Menard House later in the day to deliver him.

 

Johan was sitting up in bed reading something on his phone when Jame brought Brenton and John Smith to visit. John Smith was wearing all four prostheses at Brenton’s insistence. John Smith had wanted to protest but remembered that there were a couple of wheelchairs at Menard House he could use. Brenton pulled Jame away and spoke to him in private.

            – I want you to make sure John Smith does as much as possible. He’s become fairly lazy recently, blaming his prostheses. I want him to use them all the time he’s looking after Johan, do you understand?

 

Brenton left after half an hour. He did not say goodbye to John Smith or Johan. Jame joined the legless men and pulled up a chair for a chat. He had a proposal to make.

            – Johan, do you want John Smith to be your nurse for the next few days or will you be satisfied if I continue?

            – Oh, you have been very kind and helpful. If John Smith wants to do it, I will be happy. But if you continue, I shall also be happy. I don’t understand the question.

Jame laughed.

            – No, I suppose it’s difficult to answer tactfully. You see, I have a proposal for you, John Smith. I know you are unhappy with your artificial legs, and I remember that you suggested having a second disart so Brenton can’t force you to wear them any longer. You would be legless in a wheelchair.

            – Yes. I think it would be easier for me that way.

            – I agree. So I suggest we use this time while Johan is here to amputate your short stump to give you complete leglessness and a chance for a better life without prostheses. What do you think?

            – I think it would be wonderful! But Brenton will be so angry. I don’t think I can live with him if I cannot join him on his trips to find new amputees.

            – I’ve thought of that too. I have spoken with Judson who agrees that we should help you become independent. Judson is moving back here to live soon. Perhaps you know his parents live in Switzerland for the time being and the house is always empty, which is not a good thing for an old building. It needs simple upkeep and maintenance and Judson has suggested it’s the kind of useful work a legless man with hooks can do quite well. So after you become legless, you can stay here at Menard House and never go back to Aylesbury again. How does that sound? Would you like to work here for a small wage? Judson will be here too, just to make sure everything is going well.

            – Really? Is it really true? That would be the best thing I could think of. Thank you so much. Will I have my own wheelchair with the levers?

            – Yes, of course. Don’t worry about that. We’ll fetch it from Brenton’s place.

            – I’ll need to sit in a socket, won’t I? I have seen men without legs who have a socket with a flat bottom so they can sit up.

            – Yes, you’ll have a torso socket. Do you remember how Judson made your plaster casts to hide your stumps? He will make torso sockets from plaster too until you are fitted with something permanent. And we’ll get you some special crutches which you can wear on your stumps to use in a normal wheelchair.

            – Oh, I don’t know what to say.

            – It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything. Let’s give Johan a couple more days in bed and then he can be in a wheelchair while you make a recovery from your disart.

            – So you can amputate my stump this week?

            – Yes, of course. Everything is ready, as always. Are you ready for a torso stump, John Smith? There will be no more leg stumps for you after that and no more artificial legs.

            – Just a wheelchair.

            – That’s right, although I’m sure you’ll walk on your hooks and the torso socket like any other legless man.

            – I can’t wait! Johan, I’m going to be legless.

Johan looked at his friend in bewilderment. His life had changed in a few minutes. Hearing that John Smith’s body would end in a round legless shape was so erotic that the erection he had been nursing between his stumps erupted and he ejaculated into his catheter tube. The new sensation was much to his liking. Perhaps he would always wear a catheter after this. There was room inside a folded trouser leg for the piss bag.

            – I’ll leave you two for now. Think about it carefully, John Smith. You have had many amputations but the next will be the most important one of your life.

 

Jame went to his room and phoned Judson that so far, so good. John Smith seemed agreeable and the boy would shortly be legless. Judson said he intended returning for good on Friday evening and to make sure there was food and drink for a party for four. Jame chuckled and said he would.

 

Johan’s fresh stump appeared healed enough by day six that he was allowed to transfer to a wheelchair. He wore underpants and hooked his piss bag into a slot for it on his chair. He spent all his time in John Smith’s company. John Smith was nominally responsible for taking care of Johan, reminding him to take medicine at the required times, making drinks and bringing simple snacks. John Smith stood almost all the time, leaning on his peg leg. It was awkward for him to sit, difficult to rise. It was easier to stand. It was the last day of his life when he would stand.

 

Jame directed Johan to a small bedroom which was reserved for overnight guests. It contained a wash basin and a wardrobe, a huge Victorian monstrosity which smelled of ancient wood stain and mothballs. Jame had rolled the thin Afghan carpet as much as he could to make it easier for Johan’s wheelchair to move across the floor. He changed the sheets on the bed in the recovery room and spent the rest of the afternoon ensuring that all the necessary implements and chemicals necessary for a disarticulation were to hand. Johan would be volunteered to assist. He could keep an eye on the anaesthetic.

 

Jame left the amputees alone for the rest of the afternoon. He went to his own room and slept for three hours. Refreshed, he asked John Smith to make espressos for two. Jame had begun to pay special attention to the way John Smith used his prosthetic arms. He used the right more than the left, not surprising for a right‑handed man. Jame thought the right prosthesis was unnecessarily difficult for him. Brenton had insisted the prosthesis be fitted with a rigid steel elbow hinge. Jame thought it was probably overkill. They would discuss if another design might be easier and more intuitive for the boy to use.

 

The trio transferred to the operating theatre. Johan sat in his wheelchair to one side of the operating table, in charge of the laughing gas. He had been shown how to control the flow and how important it was to follow the readings on the digital display. He assured Jame that he understood. Jame removed John Smith’s leg prostheses for the last time and pushed them out of the way with a foot. He sterilised his hands, put neoprene gloves on and when John Smith was under, he began the amputation of the short remnant of the handsome stump which was responsible for Johan Schneider’s presence. By nine o’clock, John Smith’s wound was sutured, electrolysis applied to the ‘stump’ and the chunk of flesh awaited disposal. Jame secured all his equipment, placed the severed stump in the freezer and retired for the night to his room. Johan would remain with his lover all night and alert Jame if there was an emergency. Johan looked at the extent of John Smith’s body under the sheets and was newly grateful for his own stumps.

 

Judson arrived as expected on Friday afternoon and spent much of his time transferring boxes and bags from his Land Rover to his rooms on the third floor. He asked Jame about progress with the amputees and poked his head briefly around the door to greet Johan and check on the situation with the comatose John Smith.

 

Brenton made a surprise visit on Saturday morning. He estimated that Johan’s stump must be healthy enough for him to return to Aylesbury with John Smith. He was surprised that Jame answered his knock.

            – Where’s John Smith?

            – Making a fast recovery.

            – What are you talking about? Recovery from what? What’s happened?

            – Keep your shirt on, Brenton. Come with me. I want to explain a thing or two.

Jame took Brenton to the sitting room and the men sat facing each other.

            – What’s this all about, Jame? What’s going on?

            – This is what’s going on, Brenton. John Smith is currently in coma under Johan Schneider’s supervision in the recovery room. I amputated his stump the evening before last and your boy is now a legless torso.

Jame fell silent and watched Brenton’s reaction.

            – Without consulting with me? How dare you.

            – It’s perfectly simple, Brenton. You destroyed John Smith. You brainwashed him into accepting his amputations, and I’ll admit, we’ve all profited from them. He’s netted nearly two hundred thousand for us to date. But you pushed him too far. He’s miserable with his arms and he’s upset because his legs are so difficult to use. And he hates it when you insist on him using them although he’s not ready. Imagine if you were always afraid of falling and hurting yourself, Brenton. You have two decent legs. You don’t appreciate what it is for John Smith to teeter on one short stump without hands to help break his fall. The boy is petrified all the time. It’s not much of a life, is it, Brenton?

            – You had no right. John Smith was essential to our plans. I thought we agreed after I lost my arms. I would tour the country, which I did. John Smith’s amputations were an added bonus.

            – You went too far, Brenton. Johan was recruited because of his first leg stump but no‑one else has come forward saying they want to be as legless as John Smith. He would have been happier with two long stumps like Johan has.

            – That would be no use to the channel! I wanted him to have a choice of stumps.

            – I don’t believe that any more, Brenton. I think you’re too sadistic for that. You wanted John Smith to suffer in order to compensate for your own limb loss. You fell in love with a great lad—naïve and young for his age, and you destroyed his future. And now, in an effort to escape your demands, he asked for a sixth amputation to get rid of his lousy leg stump so you won’t force him to try to walk on it.

Brenton was silent. His prostheses jerked as he instinctively raised his non‑existent forearms and clenched his non‑existent fingers into fists. He felt the movement in his stumps and remembered his own despondency.

            – I want to see him. And Johan.

            – John Smith won’t be awake, Brenton. I hope you’re not going to make a scene.

            – Don’t be ridiculous. I do not make scenes.

He thrust his prosthetic arms towards Jame.

            – What do you think I’m going to do wearing these? Fight with them?

            – Alright. Just remember to stay calm. The amputees have nothing to do with this.

 

Brenton came to a decision, made in ire which he would repent at leisure. He stood by while Jame entered the recovery room and spoke briefly with Johan.

            – Come in, Brenton. John Smith is still asleep.

            – Hello sir.

            – Hello Johan. You’re up. How is your stump?

            – It is fine, I think. It is like the other. I am very happy with two.

Brenton could only respect the double amputee’s enthusiasm. Jame had done a wonderful job in producing an identical stump. Their proportion was perfect, their length and muscularity were perfect.

            – Are you going to use a wheelchair from now on, Johan? Show off your stumps to onlookers?

            – Oh no, sir. I want to be a one‑legged man. I shall walk with one prosthetic leg and crutches, I think.

            – And that is how you will return home, I assume?

            – Yes sir.

            – Good. I will bring your things from my apartment with John Smith’s. I don’t want you there again.

            – Are you throwing them out, Brenton?

            – I am. I don’t want to see either of them again.

            – You are a vindictive bastard. Well, if you’re emptying your flat of the boys’ stuff, bring John Smith’s wheelchair as well. The one with the levers he can use.

            – I know what it is, Jame. I’ll be back later. I assume you’ll be here.

            – Of course we will.

 

Brenton left the room and made his way out unescorted. The heavy front door’s old lock was difficult to operate with his steel hooks. Brenton’s frustration increased. After struggling for nearly a minute, he succeeded and stomped to his ‘car’. He sat in it thinking about what to do. Perhaps he had spoken to Johan out of turn. Was there any point in throwing the boys out? Johan had nothing to do with it but he would want to stay with John Smith. Brenton was angry at John Smith for his defiance and insubordination. He had ruined two year’s worth careful indoctrination and development. No, John Smith was not coming home to Aylesbury. He drove away, rapidly becoming even more frustrated by the sedate pace of his four‑wheeled electric bike. He wanted to speed, to channel his aggression through the motor of a powerful car. The sight of his prosthetic right arm on the ‘car’s’ joystick reminded him what had happened the last time he had been angry while driving a fast car.

 

Judson made an appearance shortly after Brenton had left. Jame was surprised to see him so late in the day having assumed he was out somewhere. Judson’s apartment on the third was an independent unit with its own kitchen and other facilities. There was a smaller independent apartment at the opposite end of the house where Judson intended installing his limbless janitor.

            – Did I hear the front door slam just now?

            – Yeah. Brenton was here and left in a huff. He’s thrown John Smith out and said he’s bringing the boys’ stuff here later.

            – Well, that throws a spanner in the schedule. What’s he in a huff about?

            – Thought we should have discussed John Smith’s disart with him first.

            – No point in that. He would have refused. As I understand it, John Smith wanted to lose the bit of stump he had left.

            – He did and I was only too glad to do it for him.

            – Was Garret here?

            – For the disart? No. He shot Johan’s RAK though. He had enough material for a new production.

            – It would have been nice to see John Smith’s torso stump being created. We haven’t had one of those before. Ah well, it can’t be helped. Is John Smith awake yet?

            – No, not yet. I think I’ll let him sleep for another twenty‑four hours. It’s a fairly wide suture and I want it to be as advanced as possible.

            – I wonder how he’ll feel about not going home to Aylesbury. Let me know when he wakes up, Jame. Are you staying all week?

            – Yes, if that’s alright with you.

            – Of course it is. Right, I’m off out. See you tonight, maybe.

 

Brenton spent the afternoon cleansing his apartment of everything which related to John Smith. Johan’s suitcase was easy enough to stuff with the few things he had brought. After several hours, Brenton had filled three black rubbish sacks with clothes, artificial limbs and accessories. He was reluctant to part with the wheelchair. It had cost a bomb to equip with the lever propulsion system but it was of no use to him. He piled the black sacks onto it and wheeled it down to his ‘car’. He returned for Johan’s suitcase and set to fitting it all into the back.

 

Judson was back and the three conscious residents were enjoying a light supper of salmon with a Mediterranean salad. Brenton’s knock on the front door alerted them.

            – Remember what we agreed. Don’t say anything.

Judson went to answer the door. Brenton was clearly surprised, expecting to see Jame again.

            – I didn’t expect to see you here, Judson.

            – Clearly not. Did you bring the boys’ things? Did you remember John Smith’s wheelchair?

            – Yes and yes. I hope you don’t expect me to unload everything.

            – I wouldn’t dream of it. Come inside. Wait here.

Brenton was incensed that Judson invited him no further. He was left standing in the hallway by the door. It was no better treatment that a tradesman would receive. Judson returned with Jame, still smacking his lips and followed by Johan in a wheelchair. Brenton almost broke into laughter.

 

Judson and Jame unloaded Brenton’s car starting with the wheelchair. They balanced as much as they could on its seat. Judson pulled it up seven shallow steps and into the house. He exchanged a defiant glance with Brenton, still fuming by the entrance and continued towards the back of the house. Brenton left without a word and drove away, feeling more isolated than he ever had before. He would have loved to arrive home to find John Smith in any of his many configurations happy to see him but that time was over. He was alone now.

 

Johan was relieved to find all his things in the suitcase. His passport, spare wallet with travel passes and a thousand euro and his peg leg were all safe and sound. But where would he be sleeping that night? He had expected that Brenton would come to collect him near midnight. If he understood correctly, Brenton did not want them to return. It was difficult to understand. The men seemed to have some kind of disagreement or misunderstanding between them. It was really none of his business.

 

Jame checked on John Smith. The suture was looking healthy. Electrolysis had again worked its magic.

            – I think we can allow John Smith to awaken now, Johan. You can turn the gas off gradually, say two hours, and watch John Smith until he wakes up. Call me when he wakes up. Do you understand?

            – Yes, two hours to stop the gas and call you when John Smith wakes up.

            – Good. Thank you, Johan. You’re a great help to me and John Smith.

Johan answered with a wan smile. What else would he have done for his comatose friend?

 

Judson asked Jame to help out with readying the third floor room for occupancy. The bed needed making, the place needed dusting and vacuuming. A few family trinkets and cardboard boxes of miscellanea were removed to an even lesser used box room. By evening, the place looked tidy. The light blue and white striped wallpaper gave a cool clinical appearance but there was time enough for redecoration if John Smith wanted.

            – How is John Smith going to manage the stairs, Judson?

            – That’s something he won’t be able to manage himself. I could have a lift put in but I’d need my parents’ permission for that and the less they know about the limbless janitor, the better. I’m quite prepared to carry John Smith up and down the stairs. He doesn’t weigh much, after all.

            – OK, I was just wondering. You seem prepared to make his life a bit easier.

            – I’d say he deserves a bit of help, wouldn’t you, Jame? I don’t regard our rôles in the whole affair as completely innocent. I think we should have stepped in earlier, shown a bit of restraint.

            – For what it’s worth, I think you’re right. I agree.

 

John Smith was groggily awakening from his four day coma when the men returned to check on the amputees.

            – I wanted to come to tell you, sir, but…

Johan indicated his stumps.

            – It’s OK, Johan. Don’t worry. Hello John Smith! Are you awake? Can you hear me?

John Smith opened his eyes to see Judson’s friendly face peering at him. Where was he? Oh, the hospital room. He had had another amputation. Yes, he remembered now. His short stump was gone. He tried to speak but his throat was too dry.

            – Don’t try to speak, John Smith. Jame, get some water and a flannel or something, will you?

 

John Smith slowly revived and was reassured that everything was fine, that his body was healing well and he would soon be allowed a proper meal. Jame explained that he would have to remain in bed for a week or two until his scar could allow him to sit up. John Smith nodded sagely, grateful to be the centre of attention and happy to see Johan sitting by his bed. And Johan also had a new stump. It would be nice to see it and ask him how he liked it. Feeling content with his lot, he drifted back into natural sleep and remained that way until the following morning.

 

Two days later, Judson sat with him for an hour or so and explained what had happened while he was unconscious. How Brenton had been so angry that he refused to have the boys back in Aylesbury and how he had brought all their things to Menard House. John Smith would be living here from now on with Judson in a separate room upstairs near to Judson’s apartment and Johan would be staying here too for the rest of his visit. When John Smith was well enough, Judson would make him his first body socket so he could sit up in his wheelchair. It would be plaster, just like the plaster cast John Smith had a couple of summers ago. And Judson said that he would soon arrange an appointment with a new prosthetist who would have a good look at John Smith’s arm stumps and his present prostheses. It could be that John Smith would have a new pair made which were easier to use and more useful. Judson could see the improvement in John Smith’s mood. He became more talkative and more eager to know what the future held.

            – When will I start work, sir?

            – As the janitor, you mean? The housekeeper? Oh, I expect it’ll be quite soon. This is a big house and there are many things which need checking regularly. I’ll have professional cleaners here once a month to do the big jobs but you’ll take care of the rest. I want you to work, you see John Smith. You must be able to move about on your new body stump with an efficient pair of hooks to do the things I have no time for. We’ll have to talk about your salary a little later, shan’t we?

            – Yes sir.

Judson was about to tell John Smith that he could call him Judson and not ‘sir’ but thought better of it. It would suit John Smith’s mentality better if he had a senior figure he knew he could trust. Judson intended to ensure he earned John Smith’s trust. It would be interesting to see how their relationship developed over months and years. Judson was asexual and had no interest in a homosexual relationship. He had once heard from Brenton that John Smith and Johan had carnal knowledge of each other’s bodies. He approved with little interest.

 

Johan was allowed out of his wheelchair the following week. He adopted the configuration he would use in his private life—a prosthetic leg on his left above‑knee stump, nothing on the right. He dressed in the beige slacks he had brought and soon rediscovered the balance and rhythm of crutch use. His newly fitted catheter allowed him extra freedom. The piss bag slipped down into his empty trouser leg, folded into his waist. Sometimes he folded it up over his buttock at the back and looked extremely smart. John Smith watched him with pleasure. It was wonderful to see his newly legless friend walking confidently on his artificial leg. All too soon, it was time for Johan to depart for home and his final term at the University of Bremen. He promised to remain in close contact, although he would be very busy for the next few months. He said goodbye to John Smith, now propped up in his hospital bed for the last few days until his stump could bear weight. He wanted to bend over to kiss his former lover but his disability prevented it. The artificial knee would collapse if he tried.

            – We’ll meet again soon, John Smith. I promise. I will come again to Menard House or you will come to visit me in Germany.

John Smith nodded and smiled. It was a fanciful idea. There was much to learn about his new body before a trip to the continent was on the cards. He had never been abroad and his idea of Germany was either of bomb‑shattered cities or Neuschwanstein castle. John Smith allowed himself the luxury of tears after Judson drove Johan away to the nearest Underground station from which, he insisted, he would find his way to St Pancras and his train for the first leg of the journey home. He intended to be in Brussels by evening and would stay overnight before continuing north into the Netherlands and across to Bremen.

 

It was not an easy journey. His suitcase rolled easily on its wheels, too easily. Johan had difficulty controlling it while striding along on a pair of crutches and his artificial limb afforded no ability to dodge and weave. Without a knee, he would never manage with only one crutch. The pleasure he had anticipated feeling, being newly independent with two stumps, was unforthcoming. He hated the experience and at St Pancras, he sought out a porter to carry his suitcase into the Eurostar. He was swindled out of forty pounds in the process but was too exhausted to care.

 

Judson thought about how he could manufacture John Smith’s first torso socket. There were many practical difficulties. Ideally, John Smith would hang suspended with his stump and genitals free of encumbrances. There was little space available in Menard House in which he could work with plaster which tended to spread everywhere immediately. He hit upon the idea of converting one of the stables at the back of the house into a prosthetist’s dream. They were disused since his mother’s last horse was led away for slaughter and he did not believe she would want another pony if and when she returned from Vaud. Judson ordered in builders who stripped half of the space, built benches and seats and beams. Interior walls went up, a water supply went in and a tiled floor went down. The space was still unheated but an industrial heater would resolve that.

 

Judson carried John Smith up to his new home, the room on the third floor next to his own apartment. John Smith wore red football shorts to conceal his catheter and piss bag which he wore suspended from a belt. His artificial arms hung loosely across Judson’s back and the hooks poked it with each step.

            – Will I have my wheelchair, sir?

            – You mean up here in your room? No, I don’t think so. We’ll design the furniture and everything else so that it’s ideal for a man without legs. And remember that you’ll be walking in your socket, John Smith. It’s not only for sitting in. You’ll be able to get around quite well, I think. Oh dear god! I’m beginning to talk like Johan.

 

John Smith laughed and so did Judson. John Smith crossed the threshold of his new home with a smile on his face. Judson lowered him into an easy chair. His black carbon arms rested perfectly along the quilted leather armrests. Judson looked at the limbless man in the classic leather armchair and saw not a youngster wearing football shorts but a mature man with prosthetic arms and two visible leg stumps seated with a whisky and a cigar, wearing evening dress, entertaining his guests.

 

            – This is wonderful. Is it really my room?

            – Yes, John Smith, it really is. You have these two armchairs and the low table in the corner. We could get a tv so you can stream stuff from your phone to it. Over there is your bed in that alcove, out of the way. Then there is a tiny kitchen where you can eat breakfast and supper. I expect we shall always eat lunch and dinner together downstairs. And there is lots of space for other things you might like. And your bathroom and toilet is by the entrance, opposite the closet.

            – Thank you, sir. It’s all wonderful. Can you say when I will have my first socket, sir?

            – You are about to be the first patient, John Smith. Quite soon. Is your stump comfortable to sit on now?

            – Oh yes, sir. I can’t feel anything along the bottom.

            – No. The electrolysis causes that. OK, I think it’s time to start designing your first socket, don’t you? Come into my room and let’s do some drawings.

John Smith raised his prostheses so Judson could lift him. He carried him the few steps to the door of his apartment and pushed the door open with his knee. He placed John Smith at his dining table with his piss bag on the seat and fetched some printer paper and his laptop.

            – Are you comfortable, John Smith? You don’t feel that you’re going to fall? OK. Here’s what I’ve been thinking about but you’re the one who’ll be wearing it, so tell me what you think.

 

Judson made a clear pencil drawing of a torso socket which would reach John Smith’s chest. Two facsimiles of mid‑length leg stumps protruded from its base in a sitting position and between them was a gap for access to his genitals.

            – You see, I’ve added the stumps for support when you lean forward. The stumps will slant up a bit to let you rock forward when you’re walking in the cast. What do you think?

            – How will it stay on?

            – Oh, we’ll think of something. Maybe a pair of suspenders. But it might be just tight enough to stay put anyway. Would you like longer stumps, do you think? It would be grand to look down and see two stumps, don’t you think? Even if they are only made of plaster. Other people would never realise your true disability.

            – I think it would be really cool. Exactly what I need. Thank you, sir.

            – Don’t thank me just yet, John Smith. We’re only just getting started.

Judson smiled at John Smith, whose expression had lit up with the prospect of regaining stumps. He drew a long conical tube with a rubber ferrule.

            – This is for your arm stumps when you are in a wheelchair or on a skateboard—something like that. For when you need to push yourself along for a longer period of time, like when we go travelling somewhere. They are crutches designed to replace your artificial arms, which means that you won’t have your hooks when you are scooting around but you wouldn’t need them anyway, would you?

            – No. I suppose not. Will I not have my wheelchair with levers, sir?

            – Well, not always. We might go somewhere which is inaccessible but has wheelchairs to rent. Then we could take your crutch arms along, do you see?

            – Yes sir. I understand.

John Smith carefully strained his neck to peer closer at the peg arm illustration.

            – Be careful, John Smith. I don’t want you to fall off the chair.

            – No sir.

            – When you are healed more and used to the crutch arms, we could have some longer ones made and you could use them with a special socket which has a peg leg on the base. Then you could stand taller on your peg leg and walk around with the crutches. That would be very useful on your inspections of Menard House, wouldn’t it? Would you like to be taller again?

            – Yes sir. But I don’t really understand what you mean.

            – Look! Like this.

Judson drew another socket, a front projection, and added a short steel pylon extending from its base. He drew a ferrule and pushed the drawing closer to John Smith.

            – Something like this. Don’t worry about how you would get in and out of it. I will always be around to help you with that. You’d have another pair of crutch arms to use with this. I think you’d like to stroll around on a peg leg, don’t you?

            – It would take some practice, sir, but I think I could.

            – So do I. Shall we make a start?

            – Right now, sir?

            – No time like the present. Everything’s ready in the shed for your first socket and plaster stumps. The heater has been running for an hour so it should be warm enough. Are you ready?

            – Yes sir!

Judson lifted the torso and carried him out of the house, across to the unused stables which might see more use now as Judson’s prosthetic workshop. He had so many ideas to try out on John Smith and the successful ones would be videoed by Garret and edited into narratives featuring a man in a torso socket fitted with two artificial arms working as a janitor in the elegant setting of Menard House. The profits from subscriptions to their video channel on the dark web would more than compensate for any prosthetic devices John Smith could dream of, with the exception of bionic limbs. An electric wheelchair was not out of the question but he would have to request it first. John Smith would have his first invalid carriage as a Christmas present, a ‘car’ similar to Brenton’s which he already knew how to operate. By that time, Judson expected to see John Smith active, heaving himself along on his stump with his hooks or padded rubber terminals. He was reminded to call Jame’s colleague who would become John Smith’s personal prosthetist.

 

Judson had already made John Smith’s stumps from foam rubber. He taped them to the torso in readiness. John Smith would appear to have two stumps approximately two thirds the length of his natural thighs. Judson wanted to see some stump when John Smith wore shorts. The appearance of two casted stumps was interesting in its own right. Brenton had designed a support for casting John Smith’s torso, made by the workmen from two by fours and covered with more foam rubber.

            – Now this might not be very comfortable but before you’re too tired, we’ll get it out of the way and you can relax afterwards. I want you to put your stumps on these supports and lift yourself as high as you can while I cast your bottom. OK? Do you think you can manage that?

            – I hope so, sir.

John Smith tried it and lifted his torso ten centimetres off the workbench.

            – That’s very good. Relax for now. I’ll tell you when.

Judson wrapped John Smith in a thin layer of cotton wool sheeting and wide bandages.

            – Lift up!

He bandaged the stumps and made sure they were set at the correct angle.

            – OK, relax. I’m going to get the plaster ready. Are you cold?

            – No sir.

            – Good. That industrial heater is really good, isn’t it? It’s five thousand watts and blows the heat right across the room. Sit tight and don’t go anywhere.

John Smith giggled for the first time in very many weeks. He would not go anywhere even if he tried. It was really nice that Judson was taking care of him. His trust in Judson was growing. He had always been wary of Brenton’s friends because they were so grown up and manly. He felt himself to be such a boy still. Judson had been to university and had letters after his name. He seemed to be a really nice man and they were going to live together. Not in the same way as with Brenton, but John Smith would work for Judson and Menard House and Judson said he would always help him with the things he could not do for himself.

 

Judson worked fast while John Smith suspended himself. Layers of plaster bandage covered both foam‑rubber stumps and wound around his waist and up to his nipples. John Smith had to keep himself in the air for as long as possible. He could feel his stumps begin to ache but he determined to take the pain. The plaster was still soft.

 

            – Sir! I don’t think I can hold myself up much longer. My stumps really hurt.

Judson checked his watch. Seventeen minutes.

            – OK, John Smith. Be careful now. I want you to lower yourself carefully because when the base flattens, that is the position you will be sitting in. Don’t lean back, either.

            – I understand, sir.

John Smith strained and moved each arm stump back slightly so he was suspended in a more erect position. He lowered himself onto his stump and Judson quickly checked the artificial stumps. They were both at a suitable angle. The tips were about seven centimetres off the surface of the bench. Judson was relieved and pleased.

            – Well done, John Smith. We can continue now and you don’t need to hold yourself up but don’t move either, OK?

            – OK. I’ll stay upright. I’ll rest against the supports, sir.

            – Good show. You are very co‑operative, John Smith. Always very helpful. That’s why people like you.

John Smith had never been told anything of the sort before. People liked him? Why? He watched Judson preparing another load of plaster bandages.

 

Judson took his time wrapping the rest of the torso from the belly up to John Smith’s chest. He stood back and checked his work. He folded the extra cotton wool wrapping down as neatly as possible just below John Smith’s nipples and held it in place with another long strip of plaster bandage.

            – Is that comfortable, John Smith? Are you cold?

            – Yes and no. Haha! Sorry, sir. Yes I am comfortable. I like this. And I am not cold.

            – Well, I am. I’m going to put the heater on again. You have to sit there now for about two hours while the plaster hardens enough for you to squeeze out without bending it. Do you understand?

            – Yes sir. It’s like when you made the leg casts for me and Johan. Oh, I wonder how Johan is managing with only one leg, sir. Do you have any news, sir?

            – No, I don’t, unfortunately. I am sure that Johan will tell you first, not me. You are by far the most important man in Johan’s life.

            – Really? More important than Jame and you, sir?

            – You must know that he loves you. Has he never told you he loves you?

John Smith relived his intimate moments with Johan. He could not remember Johan saying anything like that but he knew that Johan was always happy to meet him. What was worse was that he could not remember telling Johan that he loved him. But he remembered his tears at the airport. He surprised himself with his emotions for the amputee who left him, who had to leave him.

 

Judson asked John Smith to suspend himself again while he prised the hardened socket from the torso. There was some tightness as the remnants of John Smith’s buttocks passed the cast’s midriff but the form held its shape. With the aid of a step ladder, Judson lifted John Smith out of the socket and laid him on the floor. He checked the socket for obvious problems but there appeared to be none.

            – A job well done, John Smith. I am going to continue working on the socket. You can go back to the house or stay and watch.

            – I’d like to watch, sir.

            – Good show. Let’s get you onto a chair.

 

Judson continued wrapping ever more layers of plaster of Paris bandages around the socket. The body broadened until it was almost a centimetre thick. Judson wound many layers around the joints between the stumps and the base. When it had dried completely, it would be as solid as a rock.

            – That’s all for now, John Smith. Now we have to let it dry properly.

            – How long will it take, sir?

            – Let’s give it two days. I’ll bring it into the house and it can dry in the warm. Let’s go and have some supper. Do you need your arms or shall I feed you?

            – I’d like you to feed me, sir. The arms can be difficult sometimes.

            – I know, John Smith. Next week when you have your new stumps, we’re going into Oxford to meet your new prosthetist. I want him to look at your arms to see what he recommends.

 

Johan Schneider was also discovering the new technique of handwalking. He enjoyed being one‑legged after his second amputation and was privately amused that no‑one had recognised he was now apparently missing the opposite leg. He was still able to drive his adapted car as a legless man. It was easy enough to get into the driver’s seat, rather more difficult to get out again. The mechanical joint in his artificial knee offered no assistance with standing. When he arrived home from college, he exchanged the artificial foot for the peg leg extension and practised walking on a single peg. He found his reflection erotic. The minimalist approach to prosthetics was much to his liking. The simpler, the better. After an hour or so, Johan removed his prosthesis and spent the time until bedtime in a pair of shorts, caressing the tips of his identical stumps as he watched a news broadcast or video stream.

 

He recognised the need for a second leg prosthesis, however. There were times when it was not convenient to rely on crutches, when the appearance of an able‑bodied man was to his advantage. There was much work to be done to achieve mobility on two basic prosthetic legs. His goal was ability and security. If he retained a limp afterwards, he would regard it as a bonus. He had seen videos of men walking on two above‑knee prostheses and none of them could be mistaken for full‑bodied men. He hoped he could join their ranks with the opportunity of walking on one prosthesis, either with a foot or a peg. One aspect of crutch use niggled at him. It was essential to have two healthy strong arms to support his much‑reduced weight but he was considering the ways in which he might continue in his profession with an artificial arm and hook.

 

His prosthetist was delighted to see Johan. They got on well together and had a similar outlook on life—amputation was the start of a new life, a different life, and not the end of anything. He was however astounded to discover that Schneider had not made an appointment to have his left prosthesis adjusted as he had expected but that Johan was now legless. He needed a second prosthesis. It was not his place to ask the reason for the second amputation. Many amputees were reluctant to discuss their injury, finding even talking about it to be traumatic. He usually discovered what had happened during the period spent manufacturing the prosthesis and the necessary fittings. Johan’s dual stumps were identical and obviously done by the same careful surgeon. It was a mystery until Johan’s final fitting. They had spent two hours together ensuring that the new prosthesis fit Johan’s right stump perfectly and practising his stride between the parallel bars. Johan needed more practice but assured his prosthetist that he could manage with his crutches. Johan suddenly asked if artificial arms were also available. It was an odd question until he realised that Schneider must be a BIID sufferer, slowly adapting his body to its ideal form. It was none of his business, but it would be interesting to follow Schneider’s progress from now on. He was already in a very small minority—one of the few men who insisted on fairly basic prostheses despite their attendant difficulties. It sounded like Schneider was planning an arm amputation.

 

Quite unexpectedly, Johan received notice of the death of his mother. She had passed away in her sleep beside her husband who became concerned half an hour after rising when his wife had not yet joined him for breakfast. The preparations for the funeral were well under way. Johan would have to drive down to Karlsruhe to attend the funeral and was presented with the dilemma of which artificial leg to use. He had become so accustomed to wearing the left that it felt odd and disorienting to use only the right. But his father would expect him to have a right leg. Perhaps he could use both prostheses, in which case his halting progress on two prostheses would immediately catch everybody’s attention. Or he could use his crutches and prostheses. That seemed the best alternative. His father would suspect nothing. It was ridiculous to fear his father’s reaction should he discover that his son was now legless but he already had his suspicions and did not want to encourage further disparagement. Johan attended his mother’s funeral service on two artificial limbs supported by wooden crutches and was grateful for assistance by seldom seen relatives who helped him stand, putting his apparent weakness down to grief. The weather remained mild as the coffin was slowly lowered into the ground and Johan was grateful that wind did not outline the long narrow pylons over his trouser legs. Johan spent a night with his father, who assured his son that he could manage and needed some time. Johan left, grieving for the loss of his mother and relieved that his father had not realised Johan was wearing two artificial legs.

 

Johan was granted a considerable amount of money in his mother’s will, some of which he invested in a pair of cylindrical carbon fibre stubbies. They looked liked elephant’s legs and he learned a new way to swing his stumps in order to force the rigid sockets forward. It was as erotic to use the stubbies as it was the peg leg. Johan was slowly accumulating an impressive collection of prosthetic paraphernalia. If he could rely on his stubbies, an artificial arm would pose no problem. He stumped up and down his hallway watching his reflection in a full‑length mirror. He thought he looked magnificent and loved the way the stubbies simply poked out into empty air when he sat. The immovable thighs were the height of eroticism.

 

John Smith thought the same. He had been wearing his torso socket for a month. He was dressed every morning in a pair of cargo shorts and a white hoodie which seemed to be his uniform. Judson had bought four identical hoodies and two pairs of shorts for him. Judson lifted John Smith into his wheelchair at the bottom of the stairs every morning. They ate breakfast together after which John Smith began his first tour of the ground floor, checking fire extinguishers, electric outlets, lighting, window and door locks. He pumped his wheelchair’s levers with his hooks, feeling secure in his socket with his casted white stumps visible as they extended slightly from the hems of his shorts. He felt safe and pumped his arm stumps to increase speed between the large rooms. He dictated into his phone attached to his left prosthesis, making note of anomalies or reporting that things were optimal. Judson tested his janitor’s attention to detail by substituting one of the fire extinguishers in the hallway for the one from his room which had long been empty of pressure. John Smith reported the defective appliance the following day in the file which Judson had taught him to upload to a server after his daily tour. Judson was impressed by John Smith’s diligence and trustworthiness. Such a minor detail, such a seemingly unnecessary check every day and yet he had spotted it immediately.

 

Judson carried John Smith into the newly founded prosthetist’s clinic which Jame’s friend had recently founded. John Smith was considerably heavier with his socket and the artificial leg stumps but they were both pleased with his new appearance. Judson, long a connoisseur of stumps and casts, thought that John Smith looked as erotic as a human male his age could without being completely naked. The casted stumps which helped John Smith remain upright were credible facsimiles. No outsider who saw the man pumping himself along in his wheelchair would guess that the stumps were almost solid lumps of plaster, that there were no stumps of flesh and bone and that the handsome young man in his pristine white hoodie was almost as completely crippled as it was possible to be. John Smith worked his levers and looked around at his surroundings, happy to be out and alive in the company of his new master. Judson lowered John Smith onto a seat facing prosthetist Aidan Ng, who introduced himself, taking John Smith’s right hook into both hands and shaking lightly. He had been forewarned of the problem by Jame and knew that his patient had found it difficult, indeed still found it difficult, to use his first set of bilateral prostheses.

 

            – I’m pleased to meet you, John Smith. I’ve heard a lot about you from Jame, who is a good friend of mine.

            – How do you do, sir.

            – Now what’s all this I hear about not being able to use your hooks?

            – Well, I have a short stump on the left so the artificial arm has an elbow which makes things slow when I use the hook. But the right stump is longer and works in a different way but the metal hinge stops me from using the hook properly, sir. Sometimes.

            – Can I see you using your hooks to get some idea of the problem? You don’t mind doing a few little tests for me, do you?

            – No sir.

Ng indicated a pile of building blocks on the table and swept them towards John Smith. Judson pushed John Smith’s chair closer to the table, enabling the bilateral hooks to reach. Ng watched for range and fluidity of motion, and the ease of use. John Smith had learned to use the long left prosthesis quite well. The difficulty he experienced was inherent in the design. There was little which could be done to improve a tried and tested traditional design. Ng was surprised that Brenton had not reassured John Smith about his progress.

 

John Smith assembled an abstract shape of about a dozen blocks. Ng thanked him for his efforts.

            – I think I can see one or two things we might work on but I’d like to inspect your prostheses first. Can you slip them off for me please?

John Smith carefully reached across his chest with one hook and then the other to release the vacuum which secured his arms. He shrugged until the arms loosened and Ng was able to lift them off.

            – Good grief! No wonder you’re having difficulties. These weigh a ton!

Ng took them to his workbench and checked all the joints and cables. The prostheses were mechanically sound and adjusted correctly.

            – I would suggest making an entirely new pair of arms. There is no reason they should be as heavy and robust as these and as far as I can see, there is no advantage to having the right elbow restricted like this. Your right stump is quite long enough to wear a normal prosthesis.

            – In that case, Aidan, I suggest we make an appointment and get started. I’m rather dependent on John Smith for his maintenance work at Menard House and I’d prefer him to have the correct tools for the job.

John Smith looked at Judson in wonder. Judson winked at him.

            – I can fit you in the day after tomorrow. I want to make plaster moulds across the shoulders as well as for the individual stumps, so I reckon about four hours. What time would suit you best?

            – Shall we say ten o’clock?

            – Fine. What we could do now is take a look at some types of artificial arm which I think would be suitable. The main idea I think is to find something light‑weight and more responsive. Shall we have a look at some of these?

Ng reached for a neat pile of brochures he had selected beforehand. John Smith looked at all the variations available, fascinated by the different types and able to assess their advantages or otherwise with his months of experience. Ng made a few suggestions and recommendations and after nearly an hour, John Smith was certain that he would prefer slightly shorter cylindrical forearms with a choice of farmer’s hooks for when he was working and symmetrical hooks for the rest of the time. His existing standard hooks would also fit on the new arms so he would have three pairs altogether. It would be grand to use exactly the right kind of hook.

            – Shall I place an order for these components if you’re sure? And you want black carbon again, is that right?

            – Yes please, sir. I think it looks best.

            – Very well, black it is. Well, that’s all for today, unless you have any questions. Otherwise I’ll see you in a couple of days.

Judson helped John Smith don his heavy impractical prostheses and lifted him into his arms. The rigid immovable leg stumps pointed skywards. Ng escorted them out and watched Judson place the quad amputee into his Range Rover and fix the seat belt. Judson saw the figure standing by the door and raised a hand in farewell. They were home within the hour.

 

John Smith received the new prostheses a month later. After the initial casting, Ng invited John Smith back for three fittings and later apologised to Judson for taking so long. Judson was understanding, knowing that these were probably the first prostheses of their kind which Ng had made and was unpractised. However he had done excellent work and John Smith was surprised and delighted with the new arms.

            – They’re so light, sir! It’s wonderful. And I can move my arm around now much better. Look!

John Smith thrust his right arm out and shrugged his left shoulder to open the hook. He grabbed a pen from the table and brought it to his mouth, as if it were a spoon. The left elbow was more responsive and seemed to click into place more firmly and it was much easier to raise and lower the thin tube‑like forearm. His forearms differed the most from his previous pair. They were eight centimetres shorter and looked even more artificial, if that were possible.

 

Judson discussed his idea of a torso socket with a peg leg and a pair of peg arms. He had considered making one from plaster but reasoned that a professionally manufactured socket would be more durable and probably safer. He suggested that a carbon fibre version of the design John Smith currently wore might also be useful and more attractive in use. He explained to Ng why he wanted John Smith to have prosthetic stumps from both the psychological and practical angles. Ng was interested in the project and promised to research the current standards and technical possibilities for a limbless torso.

 

John Smith found it easier to operate the levers which propelled his wheelchair with the new arm prostheses. Judson exchanged his leisuretime hooks, a standard on the left and a symmetrical on the right, for a pair of farmer’s hooks when John Smith set out on his maintenance shift every morning. Twice a week, Judson carried the wheelchair and John Smith separately to the second floor to inspect the family’s living quarters. The senior Judsons had announced they would be returning to Menard House for Christmas and New Year. Judson wanted the place looking tiptop in order to justify the presence of a handsome limbless boy in the household.

            – We’d better get you some smarter clothes, John Smith. I expect you will be invited to have your meals with my parents but they’re very old‑fashioned and you ought to have a dark jacket and tie for dinner. Shall we visit my tailor and get you kitted out?

 

Judson drove into Oxford to his tailor, who had also served his father. The tailor had seen Judson grow from a small boy and remembered him well. This time, he had a most extraordinary companion with him. John Smith allowed the two men to lift him over the doorstep and into the dimly lit interior which smelled of wood polish and decades of woollen textiles. John Smith turned in a sharp circle and reversed a little to get a better look at the shop. It all looked fascinating.

            – As you see, our new maintenance supervisor, Mr John Smith, is disabled and we decided we would prefer him in an official uniform. He also requires a formal evening jacket and shorts. The man has no legs whatsoever so shorts will suffice to cover his prosthetic stumps somewhat but I would prefer it if the tips of his stumps remained visible.

The old tailor had never heard anything quite so blatant although he had made many adapted costumes for disabled customers.

            – You should also take into account that our supervisor’s artificial arms are a little shorter than his natural arms were. But despite these drawbacks, I trust that you will be able to produce outfits to your usual excellent standard.

            – I certainly hope so, sir. If I might measure the gentleman.

The tailor set to measuring John Smith’s length and breadth. He was meticulous about the length of stumps and hooked arms.

            – Would you like turn‑ups on the shorts, sir?

            – What do you think, John Smith? I think they would look very smart with your visible stumps.

            – So do I, sir. Yes please, I would like turn‑ups.

            – Excellent. Now, what kind of uniform did you have in mind?

            – Something like a blazer, perhaps more snugly fitting. The trouser shorts should match. In fact, they could be identical to the other pair as far as size is concerned.

            – I understand, sir. Will there be any embroidery on the uniform, sir?

            – Oh, thank you for reminding me. Yes, I want the word superintendent to be sewn across the back and above the front pocket. Helvetica Bold if you have it.

            – We do, sir. A little more refined than Arial, don’t you think, sir?

            – Indeed it is.

            – Now we should look at some samples. The uniform could be a good quality terylene‑cotton mix but I would like the evening suit to be wool.

            – Naturally sir. Excuse me while I fetch the book of samples.

            – This is fun, isn’t it, John Smith? Have you ever had a proper suit before?

            – No sir.

            – You’re going to look so smart, John Smith. You’ll impress everyone who meets you.

            – I hope so, sir.

John Smith fidgeted in his wheelchair. In his mind, he was swinging his legs back and forth in excitement. His plaster cast stumps remained utterly motionless. The old tailor struggled to carry an enormously thick folder of samples in his arms.

            – John Smith, come over here and choose the material for your suit and uniform.

The tailor watched his customer open his hooks wide to grip the levers above the wheels of his chair. John Smith expertly weaved his way across the floor to the counter, turning at the last moment to face the book of samples.

            – I think I would prefer a black for the evening suit.

The tailor flipped a thick wad of material to the left and displayed several examples of material which were eminently suitable for a gentleman’s evening wear. They looked at several samples. John Smith watched the other two feeling the material between their fingers and realised again what he had lost. His slightly short arms and hooks would look very smart poking out of a dark suit jacket, though. He knew he would look good like that. Judson decided on a material and the tailor took some notes. They selected a dark navy for the uniform. The tailor assured Judson and John Smith that he would adapt the shorts especially for a man in a wheelchair with a high waistline. His customers thanked him and Judson held the wheelchair handles to prevent John Smith toppling as they left the shop.

            

The tailor worked quickly and ten days later Judson drove out to Oxford to collect the two outfits and a couple of white shirts, a Windsor tie and a black bow tie for John Smith. He wished the old man a pleasant Christmas and drove to the dealership where he had already chosen and paid for Jack Smith’s new metallic red four‑wheeler bike and arranged for its delivery to Menard House on December twenty‑third.

 

Christmas was an opportunity for Johan to practise more with his artificial legs. They were both mirror images of each other and although he was elated to have his long leg stumps, the prostheses were anything but accommodating. It was an effort to rise from a sitting position, which was the main thing Johan intended to learn over Christmas, and it was occasionally disorienting to find himself balancing half a meter off the ground. But his gait was what he had imagined. His muscular stumps kicked the artificial shins and feet into action and he maintained the rhythm as he walked. He felt like a cyborg and he was certain that anyone who saw him must surely know immediately that he was walking on artificial legs but no‑one ever said anything, nor did anyone offer him a seat on a tram when he stood hanging on to a rail for dear life. He actually enjoyed the sensation of being almost swept off his artificial feet. It was something which he had been looking for and one of the main reasons for his second amputation. Now his third preyed on his mind. He imagined himself holding the support on the tram with a steel hook, the terminal device on the full‑length artificial arm exactly like Brenton had and John Smith had on his left stump.

 

Judson’s mother announced his parents’ expected time of arrival at St Pancras the following day. She hoped Judson would meet them with the Range Rover.

            – Oh, John Smith! I have something to talk to you about.

Judson had found him checking for dirty windows in the dining hall. John Smith pulled a lever to rotate his chair and face Judson.

            – Yes sir?

            – You see, my parents are arriving in London tomorrow by train and I have to go into town to pick them up so you’ll be alone for a few hours. Do you think you can manage alone from midday to about six?

            – I think so sir. Will I be wearing my new uniform, sir?

            – Yes. You’re ahead of the game. From now on, until my parents leave again in the new year, I want you to dress in your superintendent’s uniform with the shorts. Don’t worry—I’ll help you dress. It’s just a warning that for the next two weeks, you’ll be in a shirt and tie at all times. No more hoodies and cargo shorts, sorry.

            – It’s alright, sir. I like wearing the uniform.

            – Good show. And the other thing is this. My mother is a very inquisitive woman. She likes to know everything about people. She’s not a tell‑tale, just curious. So she’ll probably ask you about your amputations. I don’t think she would approve of you wanting to lose your leg, you see, so I think it’s best to tell her that you were very ill with septicaemia and you lost your limbs to the disease.

            – Is amputation the cure, sir?

            – Quite often, yes. And the other thing is that she’ll want to know where you worked before you came here. You can tell her that you worked at the hotel in Shrewsbury as a janitor and that’s where we met. Don’t mention Brenton.

            – No, I won’t!

            – And after I heard you were ill without a place to go, I invited you here to recover last spring and here you still are, working as a janitor again and taking care of Menard House for us but from a wheelchair.

            – I see, sir. I understand. It’s not really lying, is it, sir?

            – No, not really. It’s to protect my mother’s sense of decorum. She doesn’t understand things like liking stumps and artificial limbs so it’s better if she hears a gentler version of the truth. If she asks you something awkward, say you can’t quite remember because of the disease and the strong painkillers you had to take. She’ll understand that you can’t remember everything.

            – I see, sir. It’s quite easy to say that I don’t remember. But I’m much better now.

            – Ha! You’re not only better, John Smith, you are near perfection. Oh, and when you talk to my mother and father, you must call them ma’am and sir, do you understand?

            – Yes sir. That’s easy. Just like in the hotel. Ladies are ma’am and gentlemen sir.

            – Quite right. What were you doing when I came in?

            – I wondered if the rain had left the windows dirty. I don’t think so.

            – Good show. Shall we have coffee at eleven? Come to the kitchen if you do.

            – Thank you, sir. I will.

Judson left with a smile on his face. John Smith was so deferential and so eager to please that his mother would be enchanted by him, despite the boy’s vicious disablement. His father would no doubt hear his mother’s appraisal of the new janitor whom Judson had rescued from destitution.

 

Judson circled the parking area for nearly half an hour before succeeding in grabbing a vacant spot. He paid an exorbitant sum for an hour’s parking and hurried into the station and stood waiting opposite the customs exit. As he expected, his parents were among the first through the barrier. He shook his father’s hand and kissed his mother and dragged their two suitcases in both hands.

            – How have you been, Judson? Have you made any enquiries as to employment, my boy?

            – No, not yet. I need to marshal my thoughts, if you will. It’s a big decision as I’m sure you will appreciate.

Judson was always amazed by his ability to code switch when he spoke to his father. So stilted, so formal.

            – Well, don’t leave it too long, my boy, or your learning will be obsolete, haha!

            – Leave the boy alone, August. If I remember correctly, it took you two years to find a position to your liking.

            – Hmmph. So how do you pass the time in your self‑imposed solitary confinement?

            – Ah! I was coming around to that. You see, it’s a sad story and I hope it won’t upset you but I have company.

            – Really? Have you found a partner?

            – Good lord! Nothing like that, no. You see, I’ve employed a young disabled man to act as our janitor, or maintenance supervisor as the modern terminology has it.

            – And why should you be consorting with the janitor, pray tell?

            – Well, as I said, he’s disabled. I met him a couple of years ago when I stayed at a hotel in Shrewsbury. He was cleaning my room when I got back from breakfast and we had a most entertaining chat. And by the time my stay was up, I rather felt we were good friends. Then last year I heard through an acquaintance that the boy had been seriously ill and lost limbs to meningitis and septicaemia.

            – Oh, how awful.

            – And apparently he had nowhere to go after his discharge so I pulled a few strings and the authorities released the boy to my care and since then, John Smith has pulled himself together and now acts as our janitor. I’ve put him in the lesser room on the third, opposite my apartment. He inspects the property every day and lets me know if there is anything amiss.

            – How extraordinary. You called him John Smith. Is that some kind of euphemism, like Jeeves?

            – Ha! Mother, you are such a wit. No, it’s not a euphemism. His name really is John Smith and he is always addressed as John Smith, never as merely John. I firmly believe that if someone called him John, he wouldn’t recognise his name. So it’s John Smith. Not difficult to remember.

            – No, indeed not. Well, I look forward to meeting him.

The rest of the journey was taken up with minor news about the house in Vaud and the shocking prices of produce these days. Judson thought it was ironic that his mother should concern herself with such trivialities. His father’s income was beyond adequate, to say nothing of the family wealth. And Judson had access to his own illicit income in which John Smith played a considerable rôle.

 

            – Leave the luggage in the car, Judson. Let’s get inside and have some tea. We can unpack later. I think we should say Hello to your janitor too. Perhaps he could join us for a cuppa.

            – I’ll see if he’s free. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll bring your tea. I don’t know where John Smith is. Back in a minute.

His mother took her shoes off, allowing them to drop onto the floor. She curled her legs up onto the sofa and looked around. The place was clean and tidy, she was pleased to see. It was unlike Judson to see to such things. She had always regarded him as rather a slovenly boy, happy to tolerate untidiness and a little mess. Perhaps the janitor was responsible. She could hear voices approaching and turned her head to see Judson obscuring someone in a wheelchair.

            – Mother, father, I’d like to introduce you to John Smith, our janitor.

John Smith wheeled into the living room, pulling on his levers with his hooks. Judson’s father lowered his bifocals to peer better at the young invalid and his mother’s eyes widened as she took in the hooks, the handsome face and shaven head and finally the shocking white plaster cast stumps poking out of the lad’s shorts. His jacket was pristine. He wore a white shirt with a dark red tie. He stopped between her and her husband and spoke.

            – Good afternoon sir, ma’am. My name is John Smith and I am very pleased to meet you at last.

            – Good afternoon, John Smith. We have already heard so much about you from Judson on the way here. He could hardly speak of anything else.

            – Mother!

            – We were about to have tea, weren’t we, Judson? Do you remember?

            – I’ll get it.

Judson went to the kitchen and busied himself for a couple of minutes.

            – How long have you been working here, John Smith?

            – Since last spring, ma’am. Mr Judson offered me a place to stay after I left the hospital.

            – Have you no parents you could have returned to?

            – No, ma’am. I’m all alone. I had a foster family but they wanted me to leave when I was seventeen.

            – Good heavens. And you have supported yourself since then?

            – Yes ma’am. I worked in a hotel in Shrewsbury. That’s where I learned how to take care of a building, you see.

            – Have you been taking care of this room, John Smith?

            – Oh yes, ma’am. This is the room which is used most so I make sure that everything is kept in order.

Judson’s mother was impressed. The young man gesticulated as freely with his right hook as he might with his own hand. After a moment or two, it seemed perfectly natural. Life with her husband, an eminent surgeon, had acquainted her with many medical conditions. She had never known an amputee before but was knowledgeable about the condition. She looked at John Smith’s face and thought it was a pity that he was bald. But it emphasised his lovely eyes and long eyelashes. His mouth had beautiful lips, apparently always about to break into a smile. It was too bad his life had been changed so drastically. She must find out from Judson why the boy’s stumps were in plaster casts. It looked most irregular.

 

His father was intrigued to know why Judson had reconstructed half the stables into a room which looked very much like an orthotic laboratory or workshop.

            – That’s exactly what it is, father. I’m sure you don’t realise it but John Smith is rather more disabled that he appears.

            – Oh? Do expand.

            – Well, it appears that he is sitting in a wheelchair with two above‑knee stumps.

            – And is he not?

            – No sir. He is completely legless. He is held upright by a torso socket with two artificial stumps to help keep him balanced. He is not always in a wheelchair, sir. I give him leave to walk around on the torso socket with his hooks in the evening. The stumps provide some weight and stability to prevent him from falling forward or backward.

His father stared at him.

            – Who came up with that idea? Artificial stumps? I’ve never heard of anything so, so… I am lost for words.

            – It was my idea, sir. It was impossible for John Smith to do anything when all his energy went in trying to balance. And there was some kind of psychological boost to his mood after he saw stumps again.

            – Is that so? How extraordinary. I shall have to have a word with this John Smith. I have to ask you, Judson. Is there anything sexual between the two of you?

            – Absolutely none whatsoever, sir. I admire John Smith and I enjoy seeing him manipulate his hooks and control his wheelchair with them. Who would not enjoy seeing a friend succeed and beat his disabilities. But no, sir. There is nothing sexual.

            – I worry about you, boy. You have no interest in women. That has been obvious for a decade. You tell me you have no interest in John Smith?

            –No sir.

            – I am surprised. I thought you were homosexual for many years. It seems to me that you are asexual.

            – You are right father. I have no interest in such matters. I do not understand the attraction for genital manipulation with another person.

            – You are a strange man, Judson. Not unique by any sense but most unusual. However, if you have found a mutually beneficial companion in John Smith, I shall not interfere. He seems to be an honest young man, genuinely respectful and his mother thinks he has done a better job of maintaining the House in order than you would have done on your own.

            – Father!

            – Sorry, my boy, but it had to be said. The longer John Smith is around to take care of the house, the less we have to worry about it. It would be useless leaving the job to you.

            – Father! Really. I might have been untidy when I was younger but I am older now.

            – I’m not prepared to risk it, Judson. You hold on to John Smith for as long as he wants to stay and give him everything he needs. Get in touch if you need more funds. Do you understand?

            – Yes sir. I understand. Honestly father, I don’t mess up places any more.

            – Let John Smith decide, my boy.

 

John Smith felt that he had adopted new parents. Judson’s mother accompanied him everywhere on his tour of the ground floor, checking fire extinguishers, windows, general tidiness, making notes on his chest‑mounted GoPro and generally drawing her attention to tiny details—like the bulbs in the chandeliers. She watched him working, a limbless young man, handsome almost beyond compare, seemingly au fait with his black artificial arms which he appeared to use as naturally as he might his own hands of flesh and blood. She had never seen a wheelchair operated by levers before and was initially shocked by the sight of John Smith expending so much energy moving around but he seemed unconcerned by the odd way he performed his duties.

            – I have to go back and find Judson now, ma’am. He takes the memory card out of my camera and reviews it so that all my reports are marked up.

            – I see. I am very pleased to see Menard House in your care, John Smith. Judson tends to be, shall we say, irresponsible at times. He needs someone like you to show him the upkeep of a house like this requires effort and attention. I’m very grateful to you for setting a good example for him, John Smith. If only we could have brought him up to understand but we both had our careers and little time to be home with a little boy. Oh, I don’t know why I am telling you any of this. You must think me a foolish old woman.

            – No ma’am. I think you are my friend, a new lady friend. I have never had a lady friend before, ma’am.

Judson’s mother stared at John Smith, orphaned, limbless, faultless and leaned to kiss his beautiful face. Her perfume lingered in the air.

            – Thank you, John Smith. Let’s have some elevenses, shall we?

 

Judson’s father was no less interested in the new janitor. On Christmas Eve, John Smith was returning from the far room as fast as his arm stumps would allow. Professor August caught sight of him and stopped to watch. The boy’s movements were strained, he thought. He knew enough about prosthetic limbs to realise the boy was expending far too much energy to simply move around. He stood watching, waiting.

            – Hello, John Smith. Have you finished your rounds?

            – Yes sir. I still have to check the living room by the kitchen, sir, but then I can submit my report to Judson, sir.

            – Excellent. John Smith, I don’t expect you to know who I am, but I am a surgeon and I have a private clinic downstairs where I used to treat private patients. If you would allow me, I would be interested to inspect your stumps—only to satisfy my own curiosity, you understand. Would you be agreeable?

            – Do you mean would I let you, sir? Yes, of course.

            – Excellent. If you go to your room, I will come in a half hour.

            – Thank you, sir. I will ask Judson to carry me.

Professor August was confused until he realised that the rise on the stairs was probably too big for the boy to negotiate on stumps. Of course Judson carried him up and down. There was no alternative. Judson was sitting with his mother in the living room, both deeply involved with their phones. John Smith spun around in a tight circle in front of Judson.

            – I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but Professor August wishes to examine me in my room.

            – OK. Thank you, John Smith.

It was odd for Judson to say thank you.

            – Excuse me, mother. I must leave you alone for a while.

            – What’s up, John Smith? Why does my father want to see you alone?

            – I don’t know. He didn’t say.

            – Alright. Just remember that it was septicaemia which caused your amputations, alright? My father is a surgeon, so don’t try to explain anything.

            – I understand, sir.

But John Smith did not understand. The professor knew what he was looking at. He had absolutely no reason to suspect that anything was amiss. As far as he knew, the quadruple amputee was a young victim of septicaemia and was fortunate to be able to continue his profession, albeit in a sheltered situation and assisted, he had no doubt, by his son. He tapped gently on John Smith’s door.

            – Come in, please!

            – Hello, John Smith. It’s only me.

The professor stepped into John Smith’s spartan room and spotted him sitting in an armchair. Judson had taken his tie off and opened his collar.

            – May I sit?

            – Please do, sir.

            – Are these your quarters? Do you find them comfortable?

            – Yes sir. I have everything I need here.

            – I am intrigued to know how you manage to get around.

            – I can walk using my hooks, sir. My torso socket helps keep me upright, you see sir.

            – Ah! You’re in a socket, are you? I hadn’t realised. I’d be very interested to see your prosthetic solution.

            – Yes, of course but you will have to help me, sir. First we must take my shirt off and then my shorts.

            – Where do you usually undress, John Smith?

            – I lie on my bed, sir.

            – Can you get down and walk across?

            – No sir. I have no movement in my leg stumps, sir. They are part of the socket, you see. You will have to carry me, sir.

            – Very well.

The professor placed one arm around John Smith’s shoulders and the other under the base of his socket. He transferred the amputee to the bed and set to removing John Smith’s clothes.

            – Thank you sir. I can do this from now on.

John Smith pushed against the rim of his socket with his only elbow and loosened its grip on his torso. He wriggled free.

            – Can you take the socket off my stump, please sir?

The professor was still confused by the way the boy had managed to remove his leg stumps from the socket so effortlessly. He took hold of the plaster socket and pulled it from underneath John Smith’s back. To his great surprise, he saw that John Smith had no leg stumps whatsoever. He had misunderstood previous descriptions of the boy’s disability. Whoever had amputated after septicaemia was either a maniac or a sadist. He set the socket on the floor and inspected the sutures which crossed John Smith’s pelvis. The limbs had been neatly removed and the resulting torso stump looked healthy and robust.

            – May I look at your arm stumps too, my boy?

John Smith was lying on his harness and pushed himself up so the professor could access the ring in the middle of his back. It held the arms in place. The professor understood how to remove the prosthetic arms and he set them to one side. He held each stump in turn, peering closely, pressing gently, sensing the underlying bone and tissue. Professional amputations, he had no doubt. He was equally certain that John Smith had not suffered from septicaemia which affected the whole body and left permanent ruddy scars. Together with the disarticulations, he began to doubt the explanation he had been given. He was certain that John Smith had not had an encounter with septicaemia and doubted that any vascular disease would require such extreme amputations of the lower limbs. He said nothing. It was too late to remedy any malpractice. Perhaps the story about septicaemia was a cover story which a sympathetic doctor had told John Smith in order to hide a still more frightening and potentially lethal disease. It was impossible to tell.

            – I see. I can tell you that you have very expertly made stumps. As far as I can tell, you will have no problems with using them to your best advantage in the future. Thank you for allowing me to inspect them.

            – That’s alright, sir. It’s good to know my stumps are the best they can be. I’d like to be in my socket again, sir.

            – Of course.

The professor slid the legless torso into his socket and pulled John Smith’s piss bag and catheter through the hole between his stumps. John Smith lifted his arm stumps to accept his artificial arms. The professor asked what he wanted to wear and fed the trouser legs of a pair of cargo pants over the artificial leg stumps and a white hoodie over the arm prostheses. John Smith accepted a ride hanging over the professor’s shoulder down to the living room to join the rest of the family. He could never have expected such treatment and felt that he was somehow being accepted into the family as a fourth member. Or perhaps it was some kind of Christmas tradition. Tonight was Christmas Eve.

 

Judson and his mother were watching a slow-tv presentation of a journey from Montreux to Gstaad which his mother wanted Judson to see. She had a dear friend in Gstaad who had lived next to Julie Andrews and the two English women had always enjoyed exchanging their minor news in English, although both spoke the local French dialect to perfection. The professor lowered John Smith onto the sofa next to his wife.

            – Did you complete your inspection, August? Are you satisfied now?

            – I am indeed, my love.

            – You must forgive my husband, John Smith. He is insanely jealous of any other surgeon’s handiwork and always wants to see people’s operation scars. It’s quite the problem when we are dining with people.

            – Margaret! How dare you! Especially after the de Meurier case.

            – Oh! Yes, I grant you that, August, but there’s been a lot of water under the bridge since then. I’m more interested in our John Smith’s case.

John Smith looked up at her smiling face. He wanted to put his arm around her neck and hug her. His left prosthesis twitched. Julia felt it and picked up the hook in both hands and winked at John Smith. He felt his penis rising like it sometimes did when he felt safe. He hoped his socket would disguise it.

 

On the wide screen, the MOB narrow gauge train pulled in to Gstaad after climbing five hundred metres through forests, past tiny villages where the French and German languages alternated. It was fascinating but Judson’s mother was more interested in the young Adonis with his shocking hooks sitting beside her. She glanced at her husband, distracted by Judson’s manipulation of his phone, and imagined how it might be to have a limbless boy on her belly.

 

John Smith was carried up to his room by the professor. He wasted no time in removing the prosthetic arms and extracted John Smith from his stumps and socket in record time. He held the naked boy on his lap, helped him on the toilet seat, removed his false teeth and washed his face with a wet flannel. John Smith dared not reveal it was the flannel which Judson used to clean John Smith’s torso after he had had a wet dream. The professor lifted him into bed and sat down on its edge.

            – John Smith. What an extraordinary name you have, my boy. The most common name in England, so they tell me. But you are the first I’ve ever met. And I dare say, the most extraordinary John Smith who has ever lived. I was talking about you with my wife and son and I have decided to employ you permanently as our general superintendent to oversee our grounds and the house. Now, it being Christmas, all this will have to wait until the new year but I hope it will come as a pleasant Christmas idea to know that your position here is safe and secure. We’ll talk about all this later and sign the papers to make it official but I would like you to know on this special night that your home is here, that you are welcome and that we are grateful for your help. Happy Christmas, John Smith!

            – Thank you sir. Happy Christmas, sir.

John Smith waved his arm stumps back and forth under his duvet, seeking the most comfortable position. The professor cupped John Smith’s face, wished him good night and left him in peace. John Smith thrashed his short left stump until he turned himself and soon slept.

 

John Smith was already awake when Judson came to dress him.

            – Merry Christmas, John Smith.

            – Happy Christmas, sir.

            – I am going to have a shower. Would you like to come with me?

            – Yes please, sir.

Judson smiled. It was a daily ritual. It was far easier to shower together and it was one of the moments when John Smith could fleetingly feel the touch of another person. Shortly he would be encased in his socket and his stumps covered by prosthetic arms.

            – You don’t need to do your inspection this morning. You can have the day off because it’s Christmas.     

            – Oh, thank you, sir. That is kind of you. Did you know, sir, that the professor said my position is safe and secure? I can stay here to work as the superintendent, sir.

            – Yes, I know. We spoke about it. My mother suggested it. You have made a very good impression on my mother, John Smith. It must be your handsome face which charms the ladies.

            – Or my bald head, sir.

            – Oh, I have to ask you. Mother wants you to have hair because you look too old without, she says. So we’ll stop shaving your head for a while, if that’s OK.

            – Yes sir. It’s OK. I can’t see it so I don’t mind if I have hair or not.

            – Very wise. Come on! Let’s get washed and we can eat before the old folk get up.

 

John Smith was dressed in his plaster socket, his black football shorts, a white shirt and a purple bow tie. His prosthetic arms gleamed in the overhead light. Judson sat next to him, having just finished feeding him toast with ginger marmalade. Judson’s parents appeared, both fully dressed and looking very much as if they had been awake for hours. Everyone repeated the season’s greetings. The family had no longer maintained the tradition of exchanging presents but Judson’s mother always brought several gift boxes of excellent Swiss chocolate with her as impromptu gifts. She placed such a box in front of John Smith, tied with a red ribbon but otherwise unwrapped.

            – Happy Christmas, John Smith. I hope you will accept this small gift from us. I’m afraid we didn’t know you would be here, you see.

            – Thank you very much, ma’am. Thank you, sir. I’m sorry I don’t have anything to give you.

            – That’s alright, John Smith. I expect you couldn’t get into town in time for Christmas shopping.

            – No, sir.

Judson laughed.

            – Is that my cue? Well, John Smith. We shall have to do something about your mobility, shan’t we? Would you excuse me for a few minutes?

Judson left the table and went to the hallway to put his shoes and jacket on. There was a light frost. He walked around the house, across to the stables, behind which John Smith’s new ‘car’ had been parked out of sight for two days. Judson drove it around to the front of the house, left it parked with all leds glowing and returned to the warm kitchen.

            – John Smith! Would you allow me to carry you? I think there is something outside which you should see and you won’t need your wheelchair.

            – Oh. Yes sir. Of course.

John Smith raised his prosthetic arms and Judson lifted him sideways to avoid the rigid stumps. The Professor and his wife also rose and followed Judson as far as the front door, left ajar. Judson pulled it open with a foot and carried John Smith outside and turned so he would have a full view. The ‘car’ looked especially seasonal in the morning twilight. John Smith recognised it immediately as being the same model as Brenton’s which he had driven many times.

            – This is yours, John Smith. It’s from me because a superintendent needs his own transport on occasion and I know you can drive one of these. Would you like to try it out right now?

John Smith’s body was trembling with excitement and he was kicking his legs in an effort to be placed on the ground so he could run towards the ‘car’. Judson felt none of this and walked to the driver’s side, opened the door and placed John Smith onto the driver’s seat.

            – It’s all yours, John Smith. Happy Christmas. Don’t go too far.

He closed the door gently, leaving John Smith to inspect the pristine interior of his new quad bike. Everything seemed to be the same as Brenton’s ‘car’. He could drive this one too with his good arm. The ring for a hook had already been pulled out for use. John Smith made sure the forward drive was engaged and pulled on the joystick. The ‘car’ moved off silently. It felt wonderful to be mobile again. It was such a generous gift. He drove to the end of the drive to make a U-turn and drove back. He could see the family standing together watching him. He pulled up outside the main entrance and switched the electric motor off. He wanted to show them that he could be independent and made the effort of swinging down from the driver’s seat and exiting the ‘car’ from the passenger’s side where there was more room. He slid the door open and swung himself forward over the door sill until his plaster stumps hit the ground. He dragged himself on his hooks into a position from which he could close the door and swung himself back toward the main door. The staircase leading up from the yard had low steps, quite deep. He reached the lowest step and turned himself to face away from the house. Carefully, he placed his hooks onto the step behind him and pushed as hard as possible. Only his right prothesis had any effect, the one with an elbow. He slipped sideways but corrected himself and prepared to tackle the next step.

 

There were seven such steps altogether. The family watched his efforts. He had expected Judson to come to his assistance but Judson stood with his parents watching in silence. He understood this was a test of his skill and fortitude. He had helped design his artificial stumps so he could walk in his socket and that is exactly what he intended doing. If he could manage these steps without help, there was no doubt that he would also be able to manage many other similar situations. After many minutes, he hand walked the last few meters towards his hosts, his employers, his new family.

            – Well done, John Smith. How do you like the car?

            – It’s wonderful. Thank you so much, sir. I didn’t expect anything like this, sir. It’s wonderful.

            – I’m glad you’re happy with it, John Smith. I’m also glad to see you climb these steps.

            – It was a little difficult, sir, but I expect it will be much easier when I have my peg leg, sir.

            – Peg leg? What’s this about? Judson, do you know?

            – Yes mother, I know. Let’s go inside. It’s cold standing here.

 

Johan was awakening at the same time. He was alone as usual. Since moving to Bremen, he had lost most of his old friends and had yet to make any new ones. It was difficult to make friends as an adult, especially as he was obviously disabled. It was quite a hurdle to overcome. His elephant legs, which were actually elegantly tapered stubbies extending fifteen centimetres beyond where his knees had been, were Johan’s most distinguishing feature and more attention‑grabbing than his pleasant fine‑featured face. Johan sat on the edge of his bed and reached down for his elephant legs.

 

He had recently contacted John Smith to wish him a happy Christmas but the two men had little in common. Johan was making strides in academia and John Smith was a janitor. Nevertheless, their old love remained, a memory of the days when the two boys discovered each others’ bodies in the Torquay sunshine. They were days which altered Johan’s future in ways he could not have imagined. Within weeks of meeting John Smith, Johan had lost a leg. One stump was never enough. Now he boasted two identical leg stumps and had learned to walk on basic rigid stubbies which emphasised his disability. As a special Christmas present, he promised himself an arm stump in the new year. Being right‑handed, he believed he would fare better with a right hook. He wanted to use a hook and losing his right hand would ensure that he used one to maximum effect. Perhaps he could visit John Smith again next summer and drop a hint that he would like an long artificial arm similar to the one John Smith wore on his left.

 

Judson walked slowly behind John Smith. He admired the movement of the rigid plaster stumps, the way they rolled forward along their base, allowing John Smith to progress slowly but surely, as effortlessly as possible. They reached the foot of the stairs, under which John Smith’s wheelchair was stashed overnight. Judson lifted the amputee into it and slotted the hooks over the levers.

            – It will be easier for you to chat with us if you are at the same level. Otherwise I would let you walk on your stumps. Would you like me to park your car around the back of the house?

            – Yes please, sir.

Judson left to move the car and John Smith propelled himself into the living room, where the Professor and his wife were. They looked up to watch John Smith navigating his way. The left arm prosthesis seemed to provide little power.

            – Have you thought about an electric wheelchair, John Smith? That one seems very difficult for you to use.

            – It’s not too bad, ma’am. And an electric wheelchair is very expensive.

            – Some of the new ones are quite lightweight, my boy. We’ve been talking about the possible alternatives. We don’t like to see our superintendent expending so much physical energy on mere mobility when his efforts should be going into the upkeep and security of Menard House. You do understand, don’t you, young man?

            – Yes sir. Of course an electric wheelchair would be a great help. But I wouldn’t like a big heavy one. And I don’t like the way they look, sir. They make people look so helpless and disabled.

            – I know exactly what you mean, John Smith. I agree completely. My wife and I have been talking about chairs available for a legless man such as yourself and we have found something which you may not have considered. Just a moment while I set up this video stream.

The professor switched on the video screen and flicked through pages on his phone for a few seconds. He touched an icon and the video presentation of a German company appeared on the screen. A young man with a fashionable beard and nice hair wearing a hoodie handwalked across a white studio background, narrating the advantages of a new wheelchair which he was especially enthusiastic about. He heaved himself up onto a low stool and then onto the seat of a two‑wheeled device which stood nearby. It was apparent that the man had stumps but they were too short for him to use ordinary artificial legs.

            – This has given me my legs back! The GyroGo is light, secure, and manoeuvrable. I can use it either manually, like this…

He manipulated a joystick on the right armrest.

            – … or by simply leaning in the direction I want to travel. The GyroGo senses my movement and obeys instantly.

The man left the studio and bounced down a series of shallow steps into a park. He crossed the grass, rose up a rocky incline, turned around and descended again at half speed.

            – John Smith, my wife and I have decided that we wish to acquire such a machine for your use. We feel it would help you to double your efforts. Would you be willing to leave your manual wheelchair and learn to use this GyroGo?

            – That would be incredible, sir. Really? I could have a chair like that? I could go anywhere! It would be like having legs again, sir.

            – That’s what we surmised. Very well, John Smith. When we return to Switzerland, I will be in touch with the manufacturer and see what can be arranged about getting one across to England for you.

            – Thank you so much, sir. This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.

            – We feel you deserve as much assistance as possible, John Smith. Your disarticulations are too severe a disability for you to use any lower limb prostheses and we believe that your current wheelchair demands too much effort from you.

            – Yes sir. My left arm is not as strong as my right because I don’t have an elbow, sir.

            – And that’s why you should be careful with your arm stumps and not exert them too much. I think the GyroGo chair will be almost as good as having your own legs back, John Smith. It will let you be almost as tall as you would normally be and you will certainly be able to transfer from the house to the grounds up and down the front steps on it.

            – I hope so sir. I don’t often go outside, sir, because of the steps.

            – Quite so. I look forward to hearing your experiences with it. It may take some months to arrive but I expect you will have it before summer.

 

The professor and his wife spent a relaxing fortnight at Menard House entertained by the delightful innocence of John Smith and the unexpected maturity of Judson, who genuinely seemed to have become less slovenly and more responsible. His parents ascribed the change to the presence of John Smith. Despite his self‑imposed loneliness, Judson had a companion to care for, someone who respected and never criticised him. On the day following Epiphany, Judson drove his parents back to St Pancras to catch the train to Paris. This time, John Smith joined them for an outing, strapped securely into the front passenger seat. He had never spent any time in London before, which amazed the other three. He stayed in the Range Rover while Judson escorted his parents and carried their luggage. He was not long gone.

 

            – Phew! It’s lovely to see my parents but it’s also lovely to see them off. What shall we do now, John Smith? Shall we do some sightseeing?

            – That would be great, sir. Will we see Tower Bridge, sir?

            – We’ll not only see it, John Smith, we’ll go over it.

John Smith clapped his hands in anticipation. His steel hooks struck each other once and he lowered them onto his plaster stumps.

 

Judson drove via Holborn to the City, past the Tower and over the bridge, past the Shard and as far as Battersea before recrossing the river and heading towards the main road north. John Smith was clearly fascinated by everything—the immense skyscrapers, the old buildings mixed in with the new, the giant red buses and all the people everywhere. It was so different from the small towns he had always lived in.

 

Judson brought up a matter which they had not discussed while his parents were present. It was time for John Smith to have definitive torso sockets made to replace the plaster socket with its artificial stumps which had served well for several months but was now showing signs of wear.

            – Shall we see about getting that peg leg we were talking about, John Smith? Are you still interested in having peg arms and a peg leg?

            – Oh yes, sir! I dream about walking with three pegs, sir. It would feel so good to have my arm stumps inside peg arms and to be taller again on my peg leg, sir.

            – It sounds like you have been giving it some thought, John Smith.

            – Yes sir, I have. I know exactly the kind of socket I would like, sir. It will always have two little legs to stand on, sir, and a peg leg will screw into the bottom. And then I want something like half a football, sir, to screw into the bottom so I could just roll around on my socket and hold myself up with my peg arms, sir.

            – Good lord! You would always need to have your peg arms if you had a base you couldn’t stand on.

            – I know, sir. It’s exciting, isn’t it, sir? Crutching along in my rigid torso socket and just touching the ground with the big round thing under it.

Judson had rarely heard anything unusual regarding his prosthetics from John Smith and was surprised that the boy had such a vivid imagination concerning his disablement. He seemed to have imagined himself enabled by a torso socket and re‑disabled by a fantastic attachment on its base which would never allow him to stand. He would be completely dependent on his peg arms. On the other hand, the peg leg would offer him no more security. John Smith would only ever be able to stand upright in his socket if he was on a flat base.

 

Judson carried the amputee inside and made them lunch. John Smith had insisted that he could feed himself now with his new arm prostheses and often made a good effort. He used an adapted spoon exclusively, its handle twisted in a vice to conform to the angle of John Smith’s right hook. Judson cut his meat into manageable pieces. John Smith also used his naked hooks for things like french fries. As months passed, John Smith used both prosthetic arms for ever more delicate actions and gradually became a thoroughly proficient hook user.

 

Judson wasted no time in engaging Adian Ng again in the new project to provide John Smith with two new torso sockets. One would be a carbon fibre copy of the current version with built‑in stumps. The second would be an upright model with five centimetre cylindrical legs at each side and a screw fitting in the centre to which a peg leg and John Smith’s half ball could be attached. Judson promised to supply virtual models of John Smith’s ideas and an appointment was made.

 

Ng had been expecting to see John Smith again fairly soon. He was the most disabled man he had treated, immensely grateful for all new advice and for his new short prosthetic arms a couple of months ago. This time, it was a big job. Not just one but two otherwise identical torso sockets with the exception that one would have upward curving leg stumps as part of the design. The other had a fitting in the base into which a variety of prosthetic attachments would be screwed to enable the limbless man to ambulate after his own fashion. The patient would also require at least two pairs of carbon fibre peg arms which posed a problem. Aidan Ng had no experience of such devices. He knew how to make them but he had no understanding of how to make them comfortable to wear and use. He researched previous solutions and decided the best way to solve the problem was to manufacture arm sockets to which pylons of different lengths could be attached. In this way, a variety of different length crutches could be made available for use with different fittings to the base of the flat socket.

 

Aidan Ng spent considerable time explaining his ideas to John Smith and Judson when they met for the initial casting. John Smith’s entire body would be casted for the positive mould. Judson brought up the problem of the different lengths of John Smith’s peg arms and Ng explained his solution. Instead of long carbon fibre peg arms which Judson had imagined, Ng’s solution was light aluminium pylons. Judson could easily imagine their superiority but wanted to see John Smith wearing black peg arms from his shoulder to the tips of his rubber ferrules and persuaded Ng to manufacture a pair for use with the peg leg. The peg leg itself would be twenty‑five centimetres long, although, as Ng explained, longer versions would fit equally well onto John Smith’s torso socket in the future if he so desired. He could gradually walk on ever longer peg legs and become gradually taller—in fact, there was no reason why John Smith could not be as tall as Judson with the appropriate peg arms. Remembering what his father had said about John Smith’s prospective prosthetics and that money was no object, the two men came to an agreement for an order of two pairs of peg arms and appropriate pylon extensions, two torso sockets, a peg leg and the hemispherical extension which John Smith had concocted. John Smith was overwhelmed with the generosity of his master. There was so much to learn. Two different sorts of peg arm. What would they feel like on his stumps? How would he feel in himself when all his physical ability was concentrated on mere mobility? He would have no hooks to do anything. His arms would be crutches, helping him balance on the football or the peg leg. He would still be able to do his work every morning, crutching along the wide corridor between the rooms which he inspected every day. It would feel grand to swing his torso socket and peg leg along supported by his sturdy peg arms. He would be completely prosthetic. A man of prosthetic pieces, not even limbs. For the first time in his life, the erection John Smith often experienced when being fitted for an artificial limb burst into full orgasm. He lost all control of his limbs and pumped semen into his piss bag. He was held rigid by his socket which only added to his ecstasy. For the first time since he lost all four limbs, John Smith understood the erotic potential of his body. He could sense his stumps inside his arm sockets and wished he could shake his stumps at the sky in joy at being alive. Being completely limbless yet still able to fulfil his daily rounds was the ultimate physical joy and John Smith began to enjoy his extreme disability in an erotic way. Perhaps he was experiencing the late onset of physical maturity. He felt more aggressive and more determined to get the full benefit from his prosthetics. The shyness he had felt about appearing disabled in front of other people, as he had felt when meeting Judson’s parents at Christmas, had disappeared to be replaced by a provocative desire to display his disability to others. Judson would help him if he wore his peg leg and peg arms in public.

 

The alcoholic drinks which he had enjoyed at Christmas had been much to his taste and one afternoon when he was relaxing on his shorter peg arms and the football socket with Judson, he mentioned for the first time that he wished he could visit a public house. He knew that alcoholic drinks were served freely, without having to wait for someone to offer him a drink.

            – Have you never been to a pub, John Smith?

            – No, never.

            – Not even before you became an amputee?

            – No sir. I was very young then and had no‑one to go with.

            – I see. Well, if you feel up to it, we could go into Oxford and have a drink. You could take me in your ‘car’ and I’ll drive back. I’ll have a drink when we get back. How does that sound?

            – Let’s do that, sir. I’d love to see what it’s like to be in a real pub.

 

They discussed what sockets John Smith might wear for a comfortable visit to a pub. John Smith initially wanted to wear his new peg leg and peg arms but Judson pointed out that he would have to stand all evening and there would probably not be enough room. He should be able to sit on a seat or on a couch. There was nothing for it but the new black carbon socket with stumps. Ng had crafted stumps a little shorter than Judson’s original pair. The rounded black tips disappeared inside any shorts which John Smith chose to wear. Judson removed John Smith’s pegs and fitted the artificial arms over his shoulders. He scooped his amputee employee into his arms and carried him as far as the front door, where he placed him on the floor. He circled Menard House to the lean‑to at the rear which sheltered the quad bike from the elements and drove it round to the front of the house. He went to collect John Smith who was unable to close the large wooden front door securely with a hook.

 

John Smith was fascinated by the different people he saw around him. Not since he left the hotel in Shrewsbury had he seen such a variety of people. They were almost all men, laughing and gesticulating with pints of beer in one hand. John Smith again felt his loss. He would never be able to hold a pint of beer and gesture with it like these happy men. Judson had placed him carefully onto a bench so he faced into the crowd. They were near the bar and they could watch how the barman poured drinks and how the customers jostled against each other. He would never experience anything like that. But it looked so normal. None of the men seemed to enjoy having legs or hands. John Smith shrugged his shoulders and placed his hooks onto the table, cupping his beer which Judson lifted to his mouth. Judson had some alcohol‑free beer because he was going to drive them back. John Smith sat in his socket, rigid as always, moving his prosthetic arms slightly as Judson placed a fresh pint of beer before him. Other customers occasionally noticed his hooks and stared for a moment before being pulled back into their group of friends. After his third beer, when he felt pleasantly merry, John Smith relieved himself into his piss bag and told Judson that he was ready to go. Judson slid John Smith along the bench until he was able to pick him up under his arms and heaved the limbless man over his shoulder. John Smith giggled at the indignity of being carried. Men who had noticed his hooks stared in amazement at his leglessness. The man’s leg stumps were so short, they thought. They imprinted the vision into their minds, to be revisited later.

 

Judson and John Smith sat together until the early hours. They shared a bottle of good American bourbon which John Smith had never tasted before. After a short argument with Judson, John Smith was sitting wearing only a hoody and his shorts in a leather armchair with a high back and wide armrests. Judson had removed his socket. He was leaning back, feeling the irregular surface of the leather on his back and the softness of the leather seat on parts of his torso stump. Judson suddenly remembered something.

            – John Smith! Have you ever smoked a cigar?

            – No sir. I never have. I don’t smoke.

Encouraged by his drunken idea, Judson ran up to his bedroom to fetch a box of Bazuka cigars, a birthday gift from Garret, who bought several boxes on his return from a photo shoot in Cuba. They were each twenty‑five centimetres long and six wide. They were enormous.

 

            – Try one of these, John Smith. It’s alright. You don’t need to inhale.

John Smith was already intoxicated enough to agree to the idea. He lifted his right hook and accepted the huge cigar, seeing how it fit perfectly into the gap between his steel fingers. Judson kneeled in front of him and explained how the tip of the cigar should burn evenly. The idea was to suck smoke into your mouth and hold it, taste it, before blowing it out again. John Smith spluttered as he drew smoke for the first few times but soon understood how to smoke the big stogie. Judson was intrigued by the way the hook seemed custom‑made to hold the cigar. John Smith’s entire persona changed when he clenched it between his teeth. With his short hair and beard stubble, he looked very imposing. Judson held a glass with another tipple of bourbon until John Smith’s left hook gripped it. Relaxing semi‑naked in the old leather armchair with a drink and a cigar, John Smith resembled the image which Judson had imagined once before. Judson sat opposite watching him, enjoying company as he sipped his own drink. The ash on John Smith’s cigar grew long as the night passed. 

 

They slept where they sat until mid-morning. Both felt lousy. They were still intoxicated but John Smith insisted on doing his regular round. Judson thought briefly about telling him not to bother but realised that a sore head was not a legitimate excuse to start shirking. He got up reluctantly and fetched John Smith’s wheelchair. John Smith usually preferred negotiating his way around the ground floor on his peg leg, lifting it in a smooth arc with his peg arm crutches. The rubber ferrules allowed him to move securely and silently. He enjoyed the respite from his hooks, savouring the temporary sensation of complete limblessness. This morning, he needed his hooks again to operate his wheelchair.

 

One of Brenton’s recruits returned for a second leg disarticulation. For several days, Menard House was busy. Garret took pains to ensure that the amputation was videoed to perfection. It was only the second torso stump created by Jame, the first being John Smith. It promised to bring new interest to their dark web video channel. The patient, in his early thirties, arrived in a manual wheelchair which was the man’s usual mode of transport. He owned no prostheses and relied on axillary crutches only while showering. Leglessness would present no insurmountable problem or change to his lifestyle. John Smith and the patient discussed the experience of total leglessness in a ground floor room. John Smith demonstrated his prowess in his own wheelchair and how he walked on his three pegs every morning on his rounds. He had not worn his peg limbs in public because of the impracticality of doffing and donning them several times for various unavoidable situations. The patient assured the handsome bearded cripple that he was well accustomed to life in a wheelchair as a one‑legged man and looked forward to being rid of the superfluous limb at last. The following day, his leg was removed from his pelvis by Jame, ably assisted by John Smith and videoed by Garret. After four days of electrolysis, the man was awake again, impatient to be allowed to balance on his broad torso stump. John Smith spent time with him every afternoon after completing his duties. On the eve of his departure, the patient was thoroughly familiar with all the prosthetic aids John Smith used according to need and desire but believed that sitting on his unfeeling stump wearing only shorts would be sufficient after securing his torso into his wheelchair with belts. He could have a rubber‑soled leather stump corset made if he made a regular habit of hand‑walking. That evening, Jame and Judson organised a food delivery and invited the two legless men to join them for drinks. Jame was impressed to see a much‑changed John Smith. He had transformed into a hirsute young man, comfortable in his wheelchair with his black torso socket and artificial leg stumps, wielding his hooks with confident familiarity. Towards the early hours, Judson offered John Smith and his guests a Bazuka cigar. Only John Smith accepted and the other men watched him manipulating the monstrous phallic cigar with his false teeth and right hook.

 

Johan sent a long email describing his life and how he had acclimatised to a life on stubbies. He wore his artificial legs only on Sundays when he made it a habit to tour a local park. He needed to maintain his skill at operating his prostheses. He took a walking stick with him when he wore his false legs. At the end of the message, he tentatively asked if John Smith and Judson might allow him to visit again in summer.

 

John Smith knew what was in Johan’s mind. He wanted a third amputation but had not specified exactly what or which arm. He had not discussed their summer schedule with Judson yet and had no idea if they would be travelling for part of the time or if it would be convenient to have a recovering Johan occupying so much of their time again. Judson was a little surprised at the German’s brashness in asking to be hosted and also guessed what was behind the request.

            – What do you think, John Smith? Shall we have Johan here again this summer? I don’t really mind but I think I will make it conditional.

            – What’s that, sir?

            – That it’s his last visit. He’s going to ask for one of his arms to be amputated, isn’t he? I’m going to insist that he has them both amputated at the same time this summer to save himself another trip next year.

John Smith leaned onto his peg arms and shifted his peg leg, the better to face Judson.

            – I know he wants to use a hook on his right arm, sir, but I don’t know if he wants a BE or an AE, sir.

            – Well, I’m going to suggest he has bilateral DBEs to start off with and he can have a revision later on if he wants. It’s what we should have done with your legs, John Smith.

            – Don’t worry about that, sir. I manage on my peg leg.

            – Yes, I know. In a way, I’m glad you were so young when you became legless if only because you had the determination to overcome it. I wonder if Johan will have the same determination to overcome two arm stumps.

            – It will be interesting to see, won’t it, sir? Shall I tell him he’s welcome, sir? We can tell him our decision after he’s arrived.

            – Yes. Tell him to bring some cash with him to cover the cost of a prosthesis.

            – I will, sir.

John Smith rearranged his peg arms and twisted his torso around on his peg leg, lifting it in the effortless way Judson enjoyed seeing. John Smith had wanted peg arms and had done everything to ensure that he could swing his torso to walk. Aidan Ng had replaced two sets of pegs already and John Smith now balanced on a seventy centimetre long peg leg with crutches to match. He moved away elegantly on his peg arms, the tip of his peg leg striking the ground silently and precisely.

 

One morning in early June, John Smith noticed the arrival of a courier van. It drove close to the front door and stopped. John Smith had not ordered anything and being at one end of the house, crutched back to the dining room before calling for Judson’s assistance. At that moment, there was a loud knock on the front door. Judson roused himself and passed John Smith wordlessly in the hallway. He opened the door.

            – Good morning, squire. There’s a large package for this address but it’s a bit heavy. I wonder if you wouldn’t mind lending a hand with it.

Judson was not expecting a delivery either but suddenly realised what it was. John Smith’s GyroGo had arrived. It weighed about fifty kilos and the two men manhandled it into the hallway where the driver accepted a short scrawl on his terminal in receipt. The driver thanked him and drove off. John Smith approached slowly and silently.

            – Oh sir! That’s the new wheelchair, sir!

            – I do believe it is, John Smith. I think we’d better open it here. Let me get a knife.

Judson returned with a breadknife and sawed into the thick cardboard. A few minutes later, a dark blue apparatus appeared, together with various accessories and paperwork.

            – I don’t know what I’m looking at. I think we should read the instructions first, John Smith.

            – There’s a first time for everything, sir.

            – Ha! How right you are.

 

It was simple enough. The chair should be removed from the box along with the packaging material. The chair should be lifted to a vertical position and then activated by steps four through eight. And then, step eleven, the user could use the chair by leaning slightly or by the joystick on the armrest.

            – Read this through, John Smith. I think you’re going to need your leg stumps and hooks.

            – Yes sir. I think so too.

            – I’ll get them for you.

            – Thank you, sir.

Judson was being more than usually helpful. He seemed as enthusiastic about the GyroGo as John Smith.

 

Judson returned and took hold of John Smith’s shoulders. He lowered him slowly to the ground and knelt to remove the two peg arms and then the torso socket with its peg leg. He lifted John Smith and helped him into his other socket, which sat with its leg stumps beside them. He adjusted the liners on John Smith’s arm stumps and helped him don the artificial arms. John Smith shrugged his shoulders to seat the harness and stretched to test both hooks. Everything seemed in order. John Smith placed his hooks between his leg stumps and looked at Judson sitting cross‑legged, reading through the instruction manual.

            – Oh, that’s odd. It even has indicator lights. OK, I think I can work out how to set it up. According to this, there should be some juice in the battery. Let’s see if we can get it to balance, shall we?

Judson rose and sorted out seat cushions and safety belts. John Smith’s hooks clicked on the entrance hall’s marble floor as he heaved his inert stumps forward to watch. Judson checked that the wheels were free to revolve and lifted the back of the chair off the floor to an upright position and, holding it with one hand, switched on the power button. The chair immediately righted itself and its led lights went through an initiation sequence. It looked impossible. A two‑wheeled chair balancing, waiting. Judson slotted one of the safety belts around the back of the chair at chest height and pushed the plush seat cushion into place.

            – I think that’s it, John Smith. You’d better read the manual too so you know how to drive it.

Judson checked the battery and noticed that it had a carrying handle. It was easily removable for transport, making it much easier to lift the chair and battery into a vehicle, for example. He opened a bag of accessories and removed the charging cord. A small panel at the end of the arm rest indicated one bar of four. John Smith could have a test run before the chair needed recharging.

            – I think I understand, sir. Do you think I could try it now, sir?

            – I do indeed, John Smith.

Judson bent down to pick John Smith up. He looked at the boyish face, now bearded and more handsome than ever. He lifted the amputee onto the seat and secured the safety belt over the torso socket. Now man and machine were one.

            – There you are, John Smith. All set and ready. Give it a try.

John Smith opened his right hook and closed it on the joystick control. He pulled back carefully and the chair rolled forward at a snail’s pace. He tried turning left and the chair obeyed. It described a half circle until John Smith relaxed the pressure.

            – This is wonderful, sir! Do you think I might do my rounds in it this morning?

            – I think so, John Smith. But when you are finished, we should recharge the battery, so you’ll have to spend a few hours on your pegs again or in the other wheelchair until the battery is full. If you’re going on your rounds now, you’ll need your superintendent’s jacket. Your leg stumps can remain naked for the time being.

            – Thank you, sir.

            – Do you know where it is?

            – Hanging in the inner lobby, sir?

            –You can get it yourself now. Don’t worry. The chair won’t fall over.

John Smith’s face brightened as he understood that he could now reach much higher. He could struggle as much as he usually did trying to feed his prostheses into sleeves and the chair would hold him secure. But the belt would be in the way. It had a loop at the end but no buckles. It was Velcro. He could probably get it open himself, put his jacket on and secure the belt again. He could almost be independent again. The chair stopped when he stopped pulling on the joystick. He undid his belt and pulled his jacket off a hanger. He fed the left prosthesis into the sleeve using his right hook and then flailed around until the right hook entered the right sleeve. From then on, it was easy. He tidied the jacket over his leg stumps and lifted the two ends of the safety belt together, where they stuck. He shrugged again to resettle his harness, stretched his right hook towards the joystick and spun around to set off on his daily inspection of the ground floor of Menard House. He could reach all the light switches much more easily. It was fun to see the rooms from such a height. He was even taller now than on his peg leg. He stopped and started again, amazed that the chair remained upright. It felt quite solid. It was wonderful. He finished his rounds in record time and rolled back to the dining room where Judson sat using his laptop.

            – Back already? Is something wrong?

            – No sir. Everything seems fine. It’s just that I can move much quicker now, sir.

            – Good. Wait here. I want to take a photograph of you to send my mother. She’ll be glad to see you using the chair, I’m sure.

Judson took several photos, including a couple of portraits. John Smith could not help but smile an honest smile of genuine happiness. Judson showed him the photos. He approved. He even liked his beard these days since it had filled in more and grown a little longer. He had liked his face before but was happy now to look more like a man. And now he could be as tall as a man.

            – Jump down, John Smith. We ought to charge your batteries or you’ll be stuck in place.

            – Will I fall over if the batteries die, sir?

            – Well yes, I suppose so. But the chair will slow down first for a while before the batteries are completely empty and there’ll be a warning on the display long before that. So you don’t need to worry about suddenly tipping over.

            – That’s good to know, sir. Shall I sit in my wheelchair or would you like me to use my peg leg, sir?

            – The chair will be OK for a couple of hours I think, don’t you? You’ll soon be back on the GyroGo. Would you like me to lift you?

            – Yes please, sir.

Judson ripped the belt open and lifted his companion down into his manual wheelchair. The stumps settled at their accustomed angle and Judson positioned John Smith’s hooks onto the control levers. It was completely unnecessary but it was a way of demonstrating a little tenderness towards John Smith, who could never again feel physical tenderness from a warm hand.

 

Judson’s mother replied in an email that she was delighted with the photographs and regretted that she and the Professor would not be visiting Menard House this summer.

            – Your father wants to see Naples now the eruption of Vesuvius has quietened. He seems certain that the whole place is going to blow sky‑high at any moment so I don’t quite understand why he wants us to be there but needs must. You know how I hate the heat but I’m sure it will be a most entertaining visit despite my discomfort. Please let John Smith know that I am happy to see him with his lovely hair again and I admire his brunette and blond beard. It suits his beautiful face in a most magnificent way. Much love from mother.

            – John Smith! My mother has sent a message and you can read it for yourself.

Judson held his phone so John Smith could grip it. He watched John Smith’s expression as he read and the two men laughed together. Johan’s amputations could go ahead uninterrupted. John Smith sent an email inviting Johan and warned him that a four week hiatus would be necessary if he wanted to return with an arm prosthesis. If Jame’s and Judson’s plans were realised, he would return to Germany wielding two hooks.

 

John Smith mentioned that Jame would be available should his services be required. Johan was overjoyed to know that he and John Smith would be together again for a whole month. And it seemed that John Smith was suggesting that he could gain his arm stump if he so wished. If only he could decide whether to retain his right elbow or not.

 

Jame and Garret were impressed by the newly reinvented John Smith. He faced them almost at eye height, handsomely bearded and with an unaccustomed confidence. Perhaps it was simply due to age, but his increasing maturity was accompanied by a familiar ease when changing from a wheelchair user to a peg leg user. He relied on Judson or their guests for assistance with everything when he donned his peg arms and spent an evening, for example, dressed in his black suit and shorts with a white shirt and black bow tie. He joined Garret on Sunday morning for a photographic expedition in the surrounding countryside, during which Garret took a series of video shots which he would later edit into a twenty minute production available online for a price. Garret was making a name for himself in the field of professional video production and John Smith asked sensible and pertinent questions. John Smith heard news about Brenton from Jame and Garret. He had become quite the recluse, rarely initiating contact and concentrated on whatever work he did at home alone.

 

John Smith continued to assist the two voluntary amputees who arrived in the run‑up to summer. One university student arrived in a manual wheelchair with both legs and left with short stumps below both knees. The other case was far less effort—the man simply wished to divest himself of his left hand in order to use a prosthetic hook. He left after a week with a temporary stump shield which Judson made for him from plaster. He was hugely impressed by John Smith’s deftness with bilateral hooks and hinted that he would return one day soon in order to gain a matching stump on the right. Judson and John Smith bade him welcome again and John Smith drove him to Oxford station to catch a connection.

 

Judson made the same journey two weeks later to collect Johan who insisted he could find his way without inconveniencing Judson too much. He was surprised to see Johan teetering along the platform on his two stubbies, or were they peg legs? He looked horny anyway. They shook hands and Judson thought it could be the very last time Johan ever did such a thing.

            – How are you, Johan? Welcome back. Did you have a good journey?

            – I am well, thank you. It is fine to be in England again.

Johan climbed into the back of Judson’s Range Rover and spread his pegs along the seat. Judson concentrated on driving and the men were silent for the journey to Menard House.

 

John Smith was waiting for them in the entrance hall. He was wearing only a white hoody over his arm prostheses and torso socket, displaying his black carbon stumps for Johan’s inspection. He too was surprised to see how disabled Johan now appeared on his primitive peg legs. John Smith was temporarily taller than Johan. He would have liked to hug his visitor but his prostheses prevented it.

            – You look so different, John Smith. I did not know you have now a beard. It looks so wonderful on your face.

Johan’s English needed a little tuning but they would be together for much of the time while his arm stumps healed. How to break it to the man that he would leave Menard House a quadruple amputee?

            – Come to the lounge, Johan. Leave your case. I’ll collect it later.

John Smith revolved in place and led the way into the house, familiar but always exotic in the peculiar old English style. Johan’s peg legs echoed in the entrance hall on the marble floor. Judson watched their progress from behind and dragged Johan’s suitcase behind him. John Smith would not be able to reach it despite his assurance. He continued into the kitchen and began to prepare coffee.

 

Johan reclined on the sofa, his black peg legs pointing into the room. John Smith manoeuvred his GyroGo to and fro, examining them.

            – Do you always use peg legs now, Johan?

            – Are they not stubbies? They are long stubbies, I think.

            – They look very smart. Are they comfortable to walk on?

            – Yes, very much. I like them more than my artificial legs. But these are not so long.

The pegs were twenty centimetres longer than Johan’s stumps and the extensions curved slightly terminating in rubber blocks seven centimetres in diameter.

            – I have a peg leg too, only one. I prefer to be tall now that I’m able to use my peg arms properly.

            – I remember a photograph when you had a short peg leg and black crutch arms.

            – Ah, that was my first peg leg. It’s become longer and longer. I think we’d be as tall as each other now. You on your two peg legs and me on my single peg.

            – It would be fun to go out together wearing our peg legs.

            – Yes. I hope we have the time for that.

Judson arrived with coffee. He held a tray in front of John Smith, who gripped the mug in a hook and thanked him. He placed the tray on the coffee table and sat next to Johan.

            – So, Johan. You are back with us again. You are most welcome. How are you doing with your studies? Is everything going to plan?

            – Yes, thank you Judson. This is my last year and I hope that next spring I will have a job teaching.

            – Will you use your peg legs in the classroom?

            – I have not decided. I know how the students can make fun of their teachers but I think that a disabled man with peg legs is not the reason to make fun. It is too serious.

            – I imagine that if you had artificial legs, your long ones, and one hook, the children would make fun of the hook and call you names like Captain Hook.

            – Yes. It is something I have also thought.

            – Have you thought about it? Have you come here again this summer for an amputation?

            – It is hard for me to say. I am quite embarrassed. But if it is possible, I would like to have a stump on my arm when I go home.

            – It is possible but with one proviso. We will do the amputation on one condition.

            – Ah, what is that, please?

            – Both arms the same. Two amputations. Two stumps. You will return with two hooks. What do you say?

Johan was surprised by the staggering suggestion. Bilateral hooks were his long term goal. Perhaps when he was in his mid‑forties he could lose his other hand in order to use two hooks. Suddenly he had the opportunity to become bilateral by twenty‑five. He would start work as a teacher with two hooks. That would shock his students out of any temptation to poke fun. He turned his head and closed his mouth. He turned his attention to John Smith’s hooks. He had admired them since he first saw them and felt envy although he tried to suppress it.

            – Do you mean that I would have hooks when I go back to Germany?

            – Yes. I have warned our prosthetist that he should order the components for a bilateral harness and Jame has promised to arrive next weekend to do the amputations. Should you decide you want them, of course.

John Smith held out his coffee mug to Judson.

            – Is there any more?

            – Yes, in the pot.

John Smith transferred the mug to his other hook and rolled to the kitchen. He could do things in the kitchen now for himself. He was at a suitable height to reach the counter top and the stove. He put the mug on the counter and used both hooks to tilt the coffee pot. He returned with the mug in his left hook, watched closely by Johan. He jerked his arm carefully and brought the mug to his mouth. He had not been able to do that the last time Johan was here. Obviously it was possible to learn to function with bilateral hooks after a while and he had the advantage of two sturdy peg legs unlike John Smith who had to rely on outside help with things. John Smith and Judson looked into Johan’s eyes, seeking his thoughts. Johan looked down at his hands and wrung them. He splayed his fingers and held them in front of his face.

            – Very well. Two amputations. I want stumps, quite long. Two stumps.

            – About two thirds of your forearms will remain. It’s the best length, Johan. You’ll be able to use your stumps for dressing and so on. You can put your peg legs on with your arm stumps, for example.

            – I know. It is what I have thought about.

            – Well, if you’re sure, I guess I should call Jame and Aidan.

            – Who is Aidan?

            – The prosthetist. The man who’ll make your hooks.

            – My hooks. John Smith, we’re going to both have hooks!

            – I know, Johan. It’s going to be wonderful.

 

Jame arrived in a superb white eJaguar. It was a two‑seater. It occupants were forced into a prone position, lying in its deep leather seats. It was as close to a wheeled armchair as it was possible to design. Jame admitted to having withdrawn some of his share from the video channel funds. One of the first things he did was call on Brenton and take him for a drive. Brenton had sat beside him seething with jealousy. He would never be able to drive such a machine because he was unable to angle his prosthetic arms properly. It was as vast a change from Brenton’s slow electric four‑wheeler as it was possible to experience. Jame dropped Brenton off in front of his building and reported that Brenton struggled to contain his fury.

            – Job well done, Jame.

            – I don’t think you should tease Brenton like that.

            – Oh? What do you mean, John Smith?

            – You were bragging about having a new car which Brenton could never drive. It’s wrong to tease a man because he has artificial arms which can’t do everything.

Jame and Judson were surprised at John Smith’s outburst. He had never criticised them before. Worse still, he was right.

            – True enough, John Smith. I won’t do it again. But if you like, I’ll take you for a ride.

John Smith laughed.

            – I’d like that, Jame.

 

Johan’s severed hands were incinerated between three and four on the following Sunday morning. John Smith and Jame ensured that the electrolysis system was operating correctly and retired for the night. Jame lifted the limbless torso from the GyroGo onto his bed and held the socket steady while John Smith slid out of it. His piss bag was only half full and John Smith assured Jame that he would be able to manage with it until morning. Jame held his arm prostheses while John Smith extracted his stumps and hung the apparatus from hooks on the wall. He dropped the duvet over the limbless body and leaned to plant a good night kiss on John Smith’s forehead.

            – Sleep well, John Smith. Thank you for your help tonight.

 

Johan was allowed to sleep for four days. His stumps healed well. The sutures were closed after forty‑eight hours and the current was increased slightly to promote blood vessels inside the fresh stumps. The other advantage was that Johan was out of their hair for a day longer than usual. Judson discussed with John Smith whether he wanted to tend to the recovering quadruple amputee himself or whether he would need additional assistance. John Smith believed he would be able to deal with Johan’s bandages and things like feeding him and emptying his pissbag. Judson agreed but made it clear that John Smith was not to struggle with things he could not easily manage.

            – But sir, it would be better for Johan to see the things I can do with my hooks than if you are there.

            – Actually John Smith, you are quite right. Even when you struggle, you are still giving Johan a demonstration of what’s possible and what’s more difficult with two hooks.

 

John Smith was allowed to attend to his disabled friend during the following days. Johan held his fresh stumps out of the way when John Smith fed him, first with hearty soups and later with solid foods which he could nip in a hook and transfer to Johan’s mouth. John Smith’s GyroGo was as sturdy as a pair of legs. John Smith had asked Judson to alter the position of his belt so it held him just above his artificial stumps rather than across his chest. He could lean slightly further forward in the chair by tilting his head and stretching his carbon arms. The chair held him firmly in place.

 

During the time Johan was helpless in bed, the two previous friends and lovers realised that their lives had diverged and they no longer shared similar interests. Johan had forged a future for himself through intense study and dedication whereas John Smith had educated his body to undertake everyday tasks which anyone might consider normal. It was challenging to decide which was the more demanding task. The two men made reference to their trysts four summers ago but neither thought the same way about the other any longer. Johan was jealous of John Smith’s hooks and would shortly be getting his own, if Judson was to be believed. John Smith had been influenced so much by Judson and his upper class friends that he no longer felt the need to be so deferential. He regarded Judson as a companion and thought of Johan as another wannabe patient, someone whom he used to know. Johan could sense the change. He had sensed it as soon as he had arrived. Not only was John Smith functional in his amazing wheelchair, he had also learned to use his hooks seemingly without even thinking about it. Johan’s fetish with disability took a blow when he saw how well John Smith performed his daily tasks alongside Judson. He was fascinated by the restrictions imposed on a man by artificial limbs and wanted to be regarded as a man who had overcome intolerable disabilities in order to stub about on peg legs, explaining his lectures with gestures with his artificial arms and their shining hooks.

 

Judson announced that a prosthetist called Ng would measure his stumps and manufacture sockets. Aidan Ng had done as Judson had suggested and a pair of artificial arms awaited only the essential addition of custom forearm sockets. The three men entered Judson’s Range Rover with considerable assistance. John Smith stated that he wished to use his peg leg outside Menard House for the first time. He lay in back of the car with his peg leg horizontal and suspended in the air, peg arms spread wide for support. Johan sat in the front with Judson, holding his arm stumps at a ninety degree angle and balancing on his long stubbies.

 

Johan had been warned that he would need to pay for his prostheses. Ng was an independent commercial prosthetist who might do a favour for Judson on behalf of John Smith but Johan would not be so lucky. Even so, Ng kept his price low. All the components used so far were fairly inexpensive. Only the steel hooks themselves were expensive imports. After preliminary introductions, Ng cast Johan’s arms and assured him that the hooks would be ready before he was due to return home. Johan agreed that no intermediary fitting would be necessary. The sockets would fit well enough and the lack of tactile sensation in Johan’s arm stumps would ensure their comfort.

 

John Smith stood by watching Ng working. Ng was delighted to see the socket with the peg leg in use with the peg arms. The man was a mere tripod but seemed oblivious of his limblessness, perfectly content to rest his weight on three ferrules. He asked intelligent questions about the casting process, seeing it now with an outsider’s eyes. Ng on his part was interested in questioning Johan about his experiences with German‑made prosthetic legs and the unusually elegant long stubbies he wore.

 

All too soon, the casting was complete. Ng washed Johan’s stumps and helped him onto his pegs.

            – What do you boys want to do now? Shall we go into the town centre for lunch?

John Smith and Johan were both stunned by the idea. Johan’s livid fresh stumps were not yet really presentable in public and John Smith’s peg arms prevented him from using his arm stumps for anything.

            – Don’t worry. Let’s get a family pizza and I’ll feed you.

            – You realise I’ll have to stand by the table, don’t you?

            – Of course. You’re quite comfortable, I assume, John Smith?

            – Yes. I just wanted to remind you that we’ll attract attention.

            –I know. It can’t be helped. I subscribe to the idea that quadruple amputees deserve pizza.

Judson lifted the others back into the car and found a parking space near Oxford town centre. The town was busy with visitors and tourists. During the time it took John Smith to negotiate his peg leg along the streets, with the handless Johan Schneider stumping alongside him on two peg legs, the group was Oxford’s most remarkable sight, captured on a hundred cameras.

 

Ng decided to use a pin suspension to attach the sockets to Johan’s stumps. It would require much practice and frustration before Johan learned to don the liners reliably first try but the sensation of having two hooks securely bound to his arms would make the effort worthwhile. Johan’s stumps were long enough for him to use them when his hooks were inconvenient. He could remove the pins from the liners too if he wanted but if the sockets loosened, the arms would be less responsive. Ng had made the positive moulds and the sockets could be ready within seventy‑two hours.

 

John Smith took care of his friend, temporarily helpless. Johan borrowed a pair of John Smith’s football shorts to make it easier to him to take a leak. Judson surreptitiously took photos of Johan. The combination of peg legs, football shorts and two naked arm stumps was exciting. Johan seemed calm about his new amputations. He insisted he felt no pain, which Judson accepted as true. He also said that he would be able to continue in academia as a bilateral hook user, which Judson doubted. There were aspects of the teaching profession which required a full healthy body. Judson suspected that Johan would find his path barred by an inability to meet physical demands relating to fire safety and first aid. Even so, he now had the body he had fantasised about. His stumps were all perfect examples of the genre. His above‑knee stumps were long and muscular, well‑shaped thighs without visible scarring from the front and his arm stumps would soon achieve their final form. Handsome hairy arms which terminated short of the wrist, nicely rounded tips which would never feel anything again. Johan would rely on four artificial limbs, which offered him the opportunity to experiment with peg legs and stubbies and artificial legs, while wielding a variety of hooks and artificial hands. Judson knew from John Smith that Johan had sufficient funds in his bank account following his mother’s death that he would be able to accumulate a wide variety of prosthetic devices to play with. Of the two former lovers, Johan was in far the better situation. John Smith was a determined man, determined to beat his limblessness as best he could, not being too concerned about the myriad disadvantages as long as he had a companion beside him. Judson accepted that rôle and John Smith trusted him.

 

The trio spent much time in the evening watching videos relating to prosthetic training, not only for bilateral arm amputees but also for the newly legless. Judson mentioned that Johan was in the fortunate position of living in Germany where the health service guaranteed inexpensive prosthetic limbs to everyone. The situation at home had deteriorated and it was not uncommon to see amputees with empty sleeves or on crutches with a trouser leg folded up into their waist. The image was attractive and exciting but the reason for it was depressing. If you could not afford a prosthetic limb, you went without.

 

Aidan Ng completed a basic pair of bilateral hook protheses. He sent a text message to Judson informing him and invited the patient back any time after five in the afternoon any day. Judson asked Johan when he was free to collect his prostheses and texted Aidan that they would meet him later that afternoon.

 

John Smith stayed at home.

            – It takes longer to get you into the car and out again than it does to do whatever we go there for.

            – I thought you enjoyed seeing me struggle.

            – Whatever gave you that idea? Come on, Johan, get your jacket on and let’s get going. John Smith, do you think you could arrange to have coffee set to go when we get back? We’ll be about ninety minutes, I suppose.

            – OK, I’ll do that. Good luck, Johan! Drive carefully, sir.

 

The artificial arms looked superb. The wrists were flat steel with two standard Hosmer hooks which rotated but were otherwise held rigidly onto the wrists. The expanse of glossy new carbon fibre was beautiful and the triceps cuffs were of the same material. The silver cable emphasised the artificiality of the arms. Ng spent a few minutes ensuring the harness and cabling was as optimal as they were possible to be. It usually took a couple of weeks to find the correct adjustment. Johan would be in Germany by then. Ng offered Johan a bagful of rubber hook bands and an applicator to get them onto the hooks.

            – Do they feel comfortable, Johan? The hooks open easily, don’t they? I would let you practise here but you have an expert at home. Ask John Smith if you don’t understand something. Thank you for your payment. It arrived yesterday morning.

            – Ah, that is good to know. Thank you for these.

Johan lifted his hooks up and beamed at them. A happier man was seldom seen. Judson helped him with his jacket and escorted him back to the car.

 

Johan was overjoyed with the sight of hooks peeking from his sleeves. The combination of the hooks resting on his peg legs was intensely exciting. He had had an erection for much of the last hour and it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The first thing he should do was stomp off to the bathroom and masturbate. It was too much to hope that John Smith would make himself available for an intimate session of lovemaking. Their relationship had cooled from its passionate heights and Johan’s optimistic expectations of renewing it when he arrived two weeks ago had waned. John Smith was now merely an exemplar, someone he admired whom he wished to copy.

 

The exemplar studied the new Johan on their arrival. Johan’s arms weighed less than before and it seemed like Johan was fighting to maintain balance on his peg legs. He clumped across the entrance hall towards John Smith flailing his hooks. He looked vulnerable and somehow diminished despite the innocent grin on his face. He held his hooks out towards John Smith for appraisal.

            – Congratulations, Johan. You look perfect.

            – Thank you, John Smith. Without you, this would never happen.

John Smith took it as a compliment although the truth was that without Brenton none of it would have happened. John Smith turned and led the way to the kitchen, where the expresso machine hissed the last drops of strong black coffee. Johan made no attempt to remove his jacket. He sat and placed his hooks onto the table, admiring their shape. The change from seeing hands replaced by new steel hooks was shocking. Judson and John Smith had agreed they would assist Johan only if he asked for help. It would be educational for him to experience his rigid forearms as they were intended. The absence of wrists was the first drawback he was about to discover.

 

Judson poured three cups of espresso and set them on the table. John Smith rolled closer and lifted his with his right hook. Johan watched and attempted the same. His hook pointed in the wrong direction. It would not grip the cup when opened. Johan stared at the hook in confusion.

            – Use the other hook to turn it, Johan. Twist them against each other.

The new hook was stiff. The wrist connection was designed to allow the hook to rotate three quarters of a circle while not slipping. Johan understood what he needed to do but it was awkward.

            – You’ll soon get used to doing that. You have to do it a hundred times a day.

Johan had seen John Smith gripping his hooks before reaching for something but had not understood what was happening. He should have realised that the hooks were static. Their angle could only be altered manually but now he had no hands. After a few seconds, the hook pointed upwards and the fingers opened enough to grip his mug. The next problem was lifting it to drink. Johan waited for John Smith to take a sip, not wishing to ask for advice. He had not expected such a simple thing as this to be so fraught with difficulties. Seeing John Smith’s example, Johan lifted his elbow and brought the cup closer. He leaned forward to meet the rim halfway and leaned back.

            – Well done, Johan.

Johan grimaced and persuaded the alien mechanism strapped onto his stump to lower the cup without dropping it. He allowed his hook to drop. The rigid socket clunked against his peg leg.

 

Judson and John Smith continued with their routines as usual, paying little attention to Johan until late in the afternoon when their tasks were completed. It was advantageous for Johan although he felt ignored at first. He could explore his new lifestyle with hooks and take his time over discovering alternate ways to accomplish what he wanted without being judged by his hosts. Judson was kind enough to assist with his liners at the same time that he attended to John Smith. Johan maintained his enthusiasm for his prosthetic limbs instead of becoming depressed by their impracticality. Almost hourly, he discovered a new trick to make life easier. He became inured to no longer having wrists. He learned to move his entire forearms to compensate and discovered that the movement was something which had attracted him about wearing prosthetic arms. He splayed his peg legs and altered his stance as his body adapted to the change in balance.

 

Garret arrived one afternoon shortly before Johan’s departure. Judson had arranged his arrival to coincide with John Smith’s invitation to Johan to take the long walk together which Johan had suggested weeks previously. Johan was pleased that John Smith remembered. It was a hot sunny day. John Smith wore an ex‑military waistcoat with pockets to hold his tools and nothing else except for his torso socket and prosthetic arms. Johan wore a T‑shirt and shorts. Garret pretended his visit was a happy coincidence and politely asked if the amputees would allow him to video their walk. He would make a video presentation as a memento for Johan to remember his visit by, as if two arm stumps were not sufficient reminders.

 

John Smith asked Garret if he would help him into his other socket and don his peg arms. Garret said he would be delighted to help and placed his camera with a wide‑angle lens on the bedside table to record the entire process. Several minutes later, John Smith was outfitted with his three peg limbs and carefully lifted onto his rubber ferrules. Garret picked up his camera and followed behind, privately astonished that a man could be so utterly disabled by amputation and still function as a useful and cheerful member of society, albeit a restricted one. Garret left Menard House ahead of the amputees and filmed them coming out of the house through the heavy front door he had left ajar for Johan to pull open.

 

John Smith disliked negotiating the shallow steps leading to the forecourt but had learned how to angle his torso so that his peg leg would land on the lower step in a safe position. Johan merely flailed his black carbon arms for balance and stubbed down always favouring his right peg leg. He reach the bottom of the steps first and turned himself to watch John Smith. Garret was fascinated by both the amputees’ artificial arms, John Smith bearing mere crutchlike extensions on his stumps, and their different peg legs. Johan’s were a cross between stubbies and peg legs but they were longer than most stubbies and narrowed towards their rubber base. Johan thrust his legs forward as slowly as he could, waving his pristine arm prostheses, trying to move as slowly as John Smith. Garret circled them. They reached the end of the drive and turned right onto the public highway. Garret videoed them from the other side of the road. John Smith found his rhythm on the firm pavement and swung his torso, landing on his peg leg at a regular distance. Johan’s pegs seemed to twist in and out of each other, flashing reflections of sunlight. Garret walked ahead of them and crossed the road to video their approach from ground level. They pegged past the camera, ignoring it, paying attention only to their prosthetic footfalls.

 

Garret was able to edit a forty minute video from the material he collected. It earned three thousand views during its first month online, bringing in forty‑five thousand dollars. Johan received his own copy. He watched it several times and agonised over his appearance compared with John Smith, who swung his torso peg in perfect synchronisation with his peg arms.

 

Johan finished his studies. He wore his full‑length leg prostheses for much of his last year when professors evaluated their students. He explained the loss of his hands by claiming he had a nerve disease in his hands which had also cost him his legs. He applied to several dozen places for a teaching position and was declined by every one. The death of his father allowed him to return to Karlsruhe with a considerable inheritance. He moved back into his childhood home, alone, faring as well as might be expected of a quadruple amputee. His neighbours remembered him and were shocked to see what had happened to the man. He recovered from the disappointment at not finding work appropriate to his education and eventually landed a place at the Amazon sorting centre in Luxembourg, recommended by a one‑armed supervisor whom he encountered on a social media site. He commuted in his ePolo with every adaptation for a limbless driver every evening for the night shift and returned each morning against prevailing traffic. He was a lonely man partly because of his own preferences and partly because it was difficult to find someone enamoured of a man with four stumps.

 

John Smith found that his lifestyle, a bilateral arm amputee on wheels, became so familiar and predictable that he requested and received an above‑elbow amputation of his right arm stump. Jame fashioned it to be identical to his four year old left above‑elbow stump and Aidan Ng manufactured an elegant pair of prostheses, the forearms of which resembled those of a bodybuilder. John Smith was delighted with his final amputation, happy to be symmetrical, confident in wielding his demanding prostheses in an identical manner. His long upper arm stumps reached across his chest and the tips touched. It was how John Smith positioned his stumps before he fell asleep every night, although he had no feeling in them. He savoured the sensation of his duvet pressing lightly on his genitals and belly and kicked to reposition it. Muscles inside his torso stump twitched. John Smith loved the sensation of moving his legs without anything happening. He could also flail his arms and bunch his fists with no apparent movement. John Smith loved his new stump and enjoyed donning his prosthetic arms every morning.

 

Johan sent greetings every Easter and every Christmas. They rarely communicated otherwise until the Christmas of 2038. Johan announced he was ready for the next step. John Smith asked what he meant. What was the next step? Johan explained that he wanted his elbows amputated so he could use bilateral above‑elbow prostheses like John Smith. He assured John Smith that he would be able to continue his work at the Luxembourg logistics centre and had been granted permission for a hiatus by his amputee supervisor. Everything would be fine if only he could have his amputations as soon as he arrived. Would it be possible? Judson and John Smith assured him that it was possible and waited for notice that Johan was on his way. But he was never to return.

 

Judson had undergone DAK amputations in the intervening years, first his left leg which he replaced with a basic prosthesis and later the right, allowing him to heave himself around with two short leg stumps. He adopted John Smith’s old wheelchair with the levers for use at home and attached a left footrest for his prosthetic leg. In public, he walked on the prosthesis with long aluminium axillary crutches. He preferred appearing as an amputee at all times and never acquired a second artificial leg. He was lazing on the sofa, legless, watching a stream about weather chaos, when John Smith crawled up to hug him and share his warmth.

            – Is this interesting?

            – Not really. And it’s years out of date. But he explains what’s going on very well.

            – I had a message from Johan today.

            – Oh? What does he want?

            – He wants to know if he can have his stumps shortened. He wants to be DAE like me.

            – I guessed he would, sooner or later. What do you think?

            – I don’t actually care. He wants to spend time with us again.

            – You don’t really like him anymore, do you? You were such friends.

            – We were lovers. We lost our virginity to each other. All those years ago. Just think.

            – You had limbs then.

            – True. I did. I wouldn’t want to go back, though. My arm prostheses are perfect. I know you like them too.

            – I love them.

            – And I get around OK on the gyro. I don’t need legs.

            – And neither do I. But I want to keep some stump.

            – No‑one is stopping you.

            – No. Thank you, John Smith. From you, that is a compliment. You are a generous man, John Smith. You always give your utmost to help people. I dare say you have done more to encourage other men to lose their limbs than anyone else, ever.

            – Thank you, Judson.

John Smith bounced his torso closer to Judson’s legless body. Judson pulled his naked torso closer with a hairy arm which he had begun to consider replacing with an above‑elbow, mid‑humeral amputation. First one, to discover what it was like to have a stump for an arm and then perhaps the other.

 

Judson made requests of Jame at regular intervals. Jame was a senior surgeon at a major hospital in the Midlands and beyond reproach. He had amputated John Smith’s remaining elbow and shortly after been accepted into the community of accomplished surgeons. He approached his old gang of friends with the offer of professional amputations. Judson refused him outright, Garret said he needed his hands and feet for precision in his profession, understandably. Only Brenton made indistinct noises about amputation. He was independently wealthy beyond imagination, according to Jame, and was persuaded by John Smith and Jame to undergo bilateral leg amputations. He boasted mid‑length thigh stumps and Brenton experienced both conventional artificial legs and short cylindrical stubbies. On New Year’s Day 2040, Judson married John Smith in a ceremony attended by Brenton Harter on two new artificial legs, Garret with his ever‑present camera, and Aidan Ng who had made it his life’s work to provide prosthetic limbs for the gang of four.

 

Garret hurried outside the Oxford registry office to video first Brenton on his prosthetic legs, then Judson similarly wary of the steps on only one prosthesis and crutches. John Smith rolled down them in his GyroGo. As expected, Garret produced a beautifully paced video production which he had planned for weeks in advance. Every aspect of the amputees donning their prostheses was included, including macrophotography of the prosthetic joints and sockets. John Smith sent a copy of the ceremony on a microchip to Johan, who was too distraught by forever having lost John Smith to watch it.

 

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO JOHN SMITH?