Chapter 11

“You sure man?” said Lance. “You know you got a place here as long as you want.”

“Yeah, and Lance you’ve been great. And I do apologize for hating you so much in high school. But it’s time, man. I gotta have my own place. So, in a couple of weeks?” I said.

“No problem man, you know that. I’ll help you move, and so will Milt. You have collected a lot of shit in these past months that needs to be packed up,” he said.

And then I was moved in to my new place. It was May 1995. Sands Apartments Room #103, in Chandler, Arizona. And time passed as usual.

“Thanks Doctor Hardy,” said James Winters, as he was being unwrapped. His burned face was fixed, well, fixed as much as possible.

“You’re welcome,” said Doctor Hardy.

“You’re the guy who married Penelope Wyatt, right?” said his now ex-patient. The doctor looked up from the paperwork he’d been perusing.

“Yes, but you...” he said.

“No, no, I went to school with her and well her ex. We were all together for years: grade school through high school, well, actually I was a year behind them. I read about the divorce and her marrying a Doctor Hardy. It was in the papers. It had to be you; I mean the pictures,” he said.

Doctor Hardy, smiled. “Yes, I’m the lucky guy,” he said.

“Yeah she was a looker. Her ex is back from Iraq,” said James. All of a sudden, the doctor was interested.

“Back?” he said.

“Yeah, me and couple of other guys from back in the day saw him, talked to him at the Pasture not too long ago,” he said.

“Oh, okay,” said Doctor Hardy. Just then a nurse came in with the patient’s scheduled meds. She didn’t realize it, but she had interrupted a very serious Q-and-A betwixt the doctor and his patient. Doctor Hardy, waved to the man in the bed and casually walked out; he had someone to talk to, and that immediately.

“He’s back in town, and evidently he’s been back for a long time,” said Grant. She nodded.

“Well, we didn’t exactly expect to be invited to his welcome home party. But your patient said he saw him at the Pasture?” said Penelope.

“Yes, says he knows you and of course Lee as well,” said Grant. “James Winters?”

“Jimmy! Yes, I knew him, we knew him. He was a year behind us, but a good ball player as I recall: football and baseball. How is he? Is he okay?” said Penelope.

“Yes, pretty much. He’s going to need some follow up, they always do. But overall, he should be okay when all is said and done,” said Grant.

“So now what? Do we try to talk to our hero?” she said.

“Why the sarcasm?” he said. “Just a while back you were ready to do anything to help the guy get by the—situation,” he said.

“Yes, and I still am. We did bad, you and me, but he isn’t, wasn’t back then, even willing to talk to us, let us apologize, nothing. And frankly the more I think about things the more I’m ready to give him what he says he wants,” she said.

“Our absence from his life,” he said.

“Yes,” she said.

“We should give it one more go. Try and get him to want to see his child if not exactly raise her,” he said. She nodded, but it was a sarcastic nod.

“You’re right of course. But it’s just like I said, I’m just at the end of my rope worrying about him worrying us, and all,” she said. “But one more go at him? Okay.” The man nodded.

Grant Hardy didn’t especially like bars like the Pasture, but beer was pretty much generic, so here he was. He’d been here before, actually several times over the years, and that with Penelope, but it had been a long while since the last visit. But Curtiss remembered him.

It was Friday night. The place was dimly lit. It was May of ‘95. It was hot outside even in the evening which it now was, 8:00 p.m. and the sun had finally gone down. Curtiss, was tending bar.

“Doctor Hardy as I recall,” said Curtiss. The customer seemed surprised.

“Yes,” said Grant. “You remember.”

“I’m good with names and faces. Not everyone can say that,” said Curtiss, obviously proud of himself.

“Well, your right about that,” said Grant.

“What can I getcha?” said Curtiss.

“Anything on tap. A tall one,” he said. Curtiss nodded and went to fill the order.

“You married Lee Wyatt’s ex if I remember rightly,” said the talkative Curtiss, returning with the beer.

“Yes,” said Grant. “Met him once, but that was a long time ago.”

“Really? Just one time?” said Curtiss.

“Yes,” he said. Curtiss let his knowing eyes float toward a table maybe ten feet away from them.

A guy in a wheelchair wheeled himself up to the bar and raised his glass for Curtiss to refill. Curtiss took the one step to his left to answer the call.

“Another one Lee?” he said.

“Yeah, if you will old bud. I’m waitin’ on Lance,” said Lee. He noticed the handsome, and fairly tall guy next to him looking down at his legless self. In spite of the dim light he seemed familiar, but not really.

“The war,” said Lee. “Whaddya gonna do?”

“Yeah,” said Grant, trying to choke back his obvious feelings.

“It is what it is, man, I don’t whine about it, well, not anymore,” said Lee.

“Oh, I didn’t mean...” started Grant.

“No problem,” said Lee. Just then another man came up and got the attention of Lee Wyatt.

Grant Hardy, downed his drink in one go. Threw a ten onto the bar’s surface and left. Hurriedly left. He’d gotten lucky, he guessed it was lucky: the man had not recognized him.

“I saw him. He was there, at the Pasture,” said Grant.

“Okay, did you talk to him? Did he even recognize you?” said Penelope.

“Not really, and no,” he said.

“Huh?” she said.

“He came up to the bar where I was having a beer to order one for himself, He just kinda acknowledged me, and me him. But then some guy came up to him and they went off, back to his table,” said Grant.

“Why the glum look. He’s back. He’s okay. He’s drinking beer,” she said. She looked askance at the man’s demeanor.

“Grant?” she said pressing him.

“He’s not okay, Pen. He’s got no legs. He’s a double amputee,” he said. She gave him a look that clearly indicated that she didn’t actually understand what he was saying.

“Huh? What?” she said.

“Penelope, he has no legs. They’ve been amputated, all the way to his hips if I judged his situation correctly. And, well, I did,” he said.

“Oh my God! No!” she screamed. The tears just would not stop; well, they didn’t for almost an hour. The man holding her most of that time was also feeling down.

“Grant, is there anything we can do? Artificial legs anything?” she said. She had finally gotten a degree of control.

“From what I saw, nothing like what I’m sure you are imagining. There are machines, sort of, that make it possible for amputees to get around in an upward posture, but they are not pretty and really not an improvement on a simple wheelchair, like the one he was in tonight,” he said. “I gotta tell yuh, I was real glad he didn’t recognize me. I would have had a hard time holding it together myself if he had.” She nodded.

“Pen we just ran out of excuses. He’s gotta meet Zoey, and on his terms,” he said. “It’s going to be a tough nut, oh yes, it is. I mean given his feelings about you and me, but it has to happen. We have to figure something out.”