The salty olives reminded him he’d not eaten since the morning, despite his mother’s pleas. He popped a pretzel in his mouth.
“This band sounds like nothing I’ve ever heard before. What are they called?”
“Paris Monster.” She palmed a handful of peanuts.
“You’re kidding.”
“Not at all. Why?” She raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Ha, seems ironic is all. I was in Paris in July, before my monster of an accident.”
Ana returned, brushing his arm as she leaned between them to retrieve his glass, empty except for a lone olive. “Would you like another?”
“Sure, thanks.”
Ana beamed.
Paris Monster’s sounds wreathed and writhed, its ethereal layers welcoming Phoenix back to the dream house of the living.
CHAPTER 26
I CAN’T WAIT
Phoenix
“Idon’t care if the arm’s going to give me morefunction, I want that damned leg,” Phoenix insisted as he wheeled down a familiar corridor.
“Okay, fine. We’ll do it your way,” Nadine relented. She walked beside him, toting his accessories. “The occupational therapist will work with you on your arm. We need to work on your gait anyway. You’re putting too much strain on your joints. You don’t want to end up with a hip replacement.”
“I feel crappy enough and you want to talk about hip replacements?”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You know, the leg made me feel so much better this weekend.”
“Yeah, everyone’s heard about your dramatic break-out.”
“Ha.”
“You know they’re going to really clamp down on you now, right?”
“Well, there’s no need. What’s wrong with a guy wanting to go out?”
They pushed through the doors to the windowed room with the parallel bars. Once inside, she arranged his “spare parts” on the ground. She bent and lifted a rounded silicone liner from the pile.
“Nothing wrong with wanting to go out. But everything wrong with wanting to hurt yourself, you hear?” She cleared her throat and straightened. “That’s against the rules.”
“Got it.”
“If you feel that way again, you have to tell one of us. Promise?”
He nodded. He’d already promised his psychotherapist, occupational therapist, and Mom. So what was one more?
“You’re going to think about the prescription too, right?” she asked, handing him the liner.
He shook his head. “No happy pills. I’m off the pain meds, I’m not going to start something new.”
Phoenix leaned down and crossed his right hand over his left side, starting the awkward process of rolling the silicone sleeve up his left calf. The liner was needed to protect his skin before locking his leg into the socket and prosthesis.
