The following story has been heavily edited for publication.
"Rules of the game:
We play an ordinary game of strip poker. One difference though: instead of losing cloths we loose limbs. When the game ends the one who lost the most may choose: lose a leg or an arm. If it's the leg, it will be tied up to the thigh, and the loser walks on crutches for the following week with one trouser pinned up. If it's the arm, it will be tied up to the back and one of the sleeves stays empty."
5
I was five years old when my entire family was killed in a car accident. That's how I came to live with my grandparents, whom I had never met before. They lived on a small island near the shores of New England, in a big, old white wooden house. They were a tough old couple who apparently didn't know how to love a little kid, or maybe didn't want to. Either way, I found myself being lonely. Not only I lost the people I loved, the move had torn me away from all of my friends at home.
One day, (I believe I was six at the time), while following my Grandmother shopping at the store, I saw a young man leaning over a pair of crutches. I don't know why, but I moved to have a closer look. I looked at the man who was talking to Martha, the shopkeeper, than I looked down and to my amazement I saw that he had only one leg. The other trousers sleeve was simply folded up. I couldn't stop looking.
I thought about that day many times. I wondered why that young man (who I never saw again) stayed in my memory. Nine years later, I finally realized what had been going on all that time.
Jake was three years older then me. He lived in a beautiful house near the bay with his mother, who was a well known Broadway actress, which meant he had spent a lot of time by himself in that big house. Sometimes he would come around and paint the exterior of our house. My grandpa' liked him and occasionally we would have dinners together. He was a tall boy with blond hair, and in contrast to my grandparents, he was very warm and friendly. He always treated me nicely, and some times he would take me with him fishing or boating. I liked those outings with Jake. I liked him.
"The fields" were in a deserted part of the island. We would sit down at our usual spot and watch the small white ships sailing in the afternoon sunlight. We often came to that spot. It was isolated, and had a great view. It was also the meeting place for Jake and his friends: Scott, Tom, Jason and Steve. They were all native islanders, and I liked them. Not as I liked Jake, though. While they were all fun loving teenagers, Jake had something extra. He was mature in a way none of them was. Maybe the time he spent alone away from his mother, and the fact that he had lost his father at a very young age made him that way. Maybe he was simply born that way. Whatever the reason was, Jake was the leader of the gang. No doubt about that.
It was not usual for me to come with Jake and his friends, after all they were several years older than me. But sometimes Jake would come around the house and take me with them for the day. It had been a great summer. Then the school year began and Jake was preparing to go to college. I already started missing him.
Jake, Tom, Jason and Steve used to have weekly sessions of Poker every Tuesday night. I was never in on one of those sessions. One night I sneaked out of bed, slid down the huge tree I had next to my bedroom window, and ran to Jake's house. It was very late and the boys seemed to have just finished their Poker session. I took shelter behind the garage of his house and peaked in. Jake was saying good night to his friends. While I was watching them I noticed Steve was leaning over a pair of wooden crutches. It was a chilly night and he was wearing a long raincoat. I hadn't see Steve for more than a week, so I assumed he must have broken his leg. When he came out of the house into the moonlight I glimpsed his legs to see which one had a cast on. To my surprise, the seventeen year old boy, cheerful as always, did not have a cast. Instead there was only one leg coming out of the raincoat. I looked again but there was no mistake: Steve seemed to have only one leg. He and the others walked slowly away from the house, when suddenly he tripped over a rock and fell down. I could clearly see the pinned up left sleeve of his trousers.
I started running home, but they saw me. "Jimmy" called Steve, "come over. How do I look without my leg, isn't it beautiful ?" I stood next to him but I could not speak. My mouth was dry. I had the same feelings I had at the store all those years ago. "Hey" said Scott, "why don't you hop to your home with the kid' you don't live far from each other anyway ?" And so it was. I was walking home next to Steve while the other two went to their homes on the other side of the island. When we reached my house Steve put his crutches aside and sat on the stairs to rest. "I'm not used to it" he said. "Wh...what happened to your leg?" I asked. "Oh, nothing. Its just a game we play. Jake will probably tell you all about it if you ask him". He smiled , then took his crutches and swung home. I couldn't take my eyes off him. I went to bed, and for some unexplained reason I dreamt it was Jake leaning against those crutches, walking around town with one leg, taking me places while the left sleeve of his blue shorts is empty.
The next day, thinking more clearly, I realized Steve must have faked it. It had something to do with the Poker game. Only a few weeks left before they all went to college, I began stalking them at their weekly game. I saw Scott coming out of the game with his left arm missing, the left long sleeve of his sweatshirt put inside his belt, Jason lost a leg another day, and I followed the dark hair boy to his house, watching him using the wooden crutches, Tom was carried out by his friends one evening while faking the loss of both his legs. "He must have lost really badly" I was thinking. A real surprise came the last evening of poker before they all fled to college. I was at my usual spot when they all came out. No crutches were used by any of them, and all the arms seemed to be in place. Jake re-entered his house and the rest of them started walking away. Than I noticed something odd with Steve's left leg. It wasn't a real leg, it was a peg leg, like I saw in an old tv movie once. The long left sleeve of his jeans ended at the knee, and from there on it was a wooden peg leg.
Again, Steve saw me. He was walking alone to his house, which wasn't far from mine, limping a bit using the wooden leg. "Hey guy" he said with a big smile "how do you like my new look"? He was standing there looking like every other American teenager, T-Shirt, Jeans, and one running shoe. No crutches this time. We walked together for a while, than he sat in the big old armchair we used to have in the balcony. "Let me show you" he said. He took off the wooden leg, and I could clearly see the folded edge of his Jeans. He showed me how to wear the peg leg, taking it off and on. I watched him limping away, than ran to my room and laid on my bed, and dreamed of Jake walking with a peg leg. It was exciting.
Time had passed. Jake went to college, and now I saw him too, maybe three, times a year. I loved the times when he came back, and I missed him a lot in-between, but I also had other things on my mind. My best friend on the island was Michael, who was my age. Sometimes we would go to the beach together, or catch a movie in the local multiplex.
I didn't get to see to many people who had no legs or arms, but when I did see one I was thrilled. One time I went with my with my Grandfather to an amusement park in a little town on the mainland. While standing in line for one of the rides, I saw a young father sitting with his son, three or four years old, in one of the collision cars. They seemed to have a joyful time, and I stared at them somewhat envious, remembering my own father who used to take me to places such as this. When they came out the young father took his son in his arms and put his left leg outside. When he stood up I noticed with excitement that the right sleeve of his short chinos was empty. He was hopping, with his son in his arms, towards the fence, where a young woman, probably his wife, approached him with forearm crutches. He took the crutches and the three of them walked away. I tried to follow them, but our turn to enter the Roller coaster had come and I didn't see them anymore.
Another time I saw a one armed boy at the local drugstore. I was eight at the time. He wasn't local. By that time, I already knew all the local people on the island. I think he was ten or eleven years old. I was alone in the store when a young man entered accompanied with a dark hair boy. He wore a jacket and a jeans. At first I didn't notice anything special. Than I noticed that one of the jacket sleeves was too loose. At first it looked like one of his arms was in his pocket, but than I noticed he didn't use that arm at all and I wondered and hoped; maybe he didn't have it. I had these hopes several times before, but I was always disappointed. To this day I never really saw a one armed person. I watched him closely. The sleeve did look empty, but I wasn't sure. Then the boy started looking at some flannel shirts hanging there and his father helped him taking the jacket off. Underneath he was wearing a blue T-Shirt. He had one arm. The left sleeve was totally empty. Then his father helped him into a flannel shirt. The long left sleeve was dangling there. I followed them to a little hotel, where they were obviously staying, then returned home.
It was the end of the winter when suddenly I saw Scott on the pier. He was walking wearing a blue windbreaker, the left sleeve was empty as if he had one arm. I was happy to see him. I hoped Jake and the gang were with him, and they had started their Poker games again.
"Scott", I shouted at him. He looked at me for a moment as if he didn't recognize me, than smiled: "Hi, kid" he said gently. "Did you all come back ?" I asked eagerly. "I'm afraid not, just me. " He than looked around.
"I might as well tell you now", he said with a grim smile, "what you see here is not fake. I had an, well, an accident and I lost my arm." He took off his jacket and I saw all of the sudden the empty left sleeve of his shirt pinned up. "This time it's for real, kid." I could clearly see Scott had no arm tied behind his back. He really did have just one arm. I was thrilled and sad at the same time. Little did I know it wasn't the last time I would feel these emotions.
I made all kind of little discoveries: I found out that Rob, a boy in my class, sat on his chair in class with his left leg folded up, a habit he had. I realized that if you looked at him from a certain angle it actually seemed like he had one leg. I used to pretend that he really had one leg, and that he had a prosthesis which he took off during class.
I discovered how to pretend to have one arm missing. When my Grandparents were not at home I used to walk around the house with one arm tied to my back. I tried it with all my shirts, sometimes pinning the sleeve up with safety pins. Mostly, though, I preferred a leg missing. Pretending had it's advantages, but I preferred to see other people do it, or watching real amputees, which was, and still is, the best option.
I was looking for a way to make one of my friends to pretend they had lost a leg, without disclosing my secret. Especially I wanted it to be Rob, the boy who would fold his leg at class. I got my chance sooner then I expected.
My Grandparents went to Boston for a few days, and I was left alone in the big house. Rob came to see me that afternoon. It was raining and we sat down to watch some TV. We saw an old version of "Treasure Island". "How did suppose they make it look like he lost a leg"? asked Rob, referring to the actor who portrayed Long John Silver. "That's easy" I said, not really believing my good luck, "I can show you, if you like." "Yeah," he replied. Make me look that way!
We went up to my room, and Rob took his jeans down. I took a big belt out of my closet and instructed him to fold his leg, the left one, just like he did at school. I then tied it tight to his thigh, and then told him to pull his jeans up again, putting the folded leg in it. Rob was pretty skinny and his jeans were always a bit large so we had no problem closing it, and he even managed to push his shirt inside. He stood up and leaned on me while I pinned up the empty sleeve of the trousers. I opened the closet's door where I had a big mirror and looked. Thanks to his thin body and the large trousers you couldn't tell he had a real leg hidden there. I looked at him standing on his leg, the illusion was perfect. He jumped around my room than sat on my bed. "So?" I asked. "Cool," he said.
Then he had a huge grin. "I've got a set of aluminum crutches in my room... from when I broke my leg last year. Go get them!" I sneaked over to Rob's house, darted in the door without his mother seeing, and retrieved the treasure. They worked like a charm. The illusion was complete.
A knock at the door. It was Michael. He did a triple-take when he saw Rob. Rob and I died laughing. We let Michael in on our secret, than released Rob's leg. To my amazement Michael wanted to try it. For the rest of the evening Michael hopped cheerfully around the house with no right leg. He folded the sleeve of his black pants from the inside, and so it looked like it was cut off in the middle.
We ordered some pizza, and let Michael go and open the door. The pizza boy was filled with sorrow when he saw Michael standing on one leg, leaning on his crutches, and the three of us were very pleased.
Rob, Michael, and I were good friends. We did all kind of things boys our age did: went to the beach together, movies, games and so on. We didn't pretend anymore. I didn't mention it because I was afraid my secret will be revealed, and I guessed they simply remembered it as a one time joke. At home I used to pretend I lost a leg. Rob left his crutches in my room that day, so every once in a while, when I was left alone in the big house, I folded my left leg into my trousers, than pinned up the empty sleeve, and roamed around the house using the crutches. I watched TV, prepared food, and did other things while having one leg. I didn't go outside the house though, not with just one leg.
Summers came and went, and I was sixteen years old. Jake was 19 now, and we had lots of fun when we were together. He had become a handsome young man. And he was my best friend. I could talk to Jake about anything, he was like a father, or a big brother.
He and his friends continued to play Poker when they were on the island, and sometimes I would catch one of them walking on one leg, or missing an arm. But never Jake. Except that day in the fields, a few years ago, I never saw Jake without a leg or an arm.
Still, I think he knew of the fascination I had with the subject. There was a one armed seaman, in the island's small harbor that year, and Jake caught me watching him a couple of times. His reaction wasn't the usual one: he simply joined me and we would both watch him in silence.
September came again, and Jake returned to the university, promising we'll see each other at Christmas. It was school time again, and I was almost 16.
About four weeks into term, Rob didn't come to school one day. I passed his house that afternoon. His mother was crying. It seemed he was involved in a car accident, and he was in hospital. I went to visit him a day later. He was sitting in a wheelchair, cast covering the whole of his left leg. He was happy to see me: "Hey!", he said trying to smile, and we shook hands. Turned out his leg was broken in several places, and he had gone through a big operation. There was another one scheduled for next week: "I hope they won't take off my leg" he said. I didn't know what to think: Rob was my friend and I didn't want him to loose a leg. On the other hand the thought of Rob being really one legged made me shiver with excitement. I never knew a one legged person before, and suddenly one of my best friends might become one. I felt bad about it, but deep inside I realized that I hoped Rob's leg would be amputated.
My Grandmother died a few days later.
It seemed all those visits to Boston, giving me opportunities to roam around the house with no leg or arm, were for cancer treatment.
Three weeks later Rob came back home. I went to his house. His mother opened the door: "Great to see you Jimmy, Rob is upstairs. I am going out now, there is food if you like, have fun." I went to his room. He was sitting next to his computer, looking a bit grim. I noticed a pair of metal forearm crutches next to his bed. His legs were under the table. "Hey!" I said.
"Hey yourself "
"How long will you have to use these ?" I asked, pointing at his crutches.
"Oh, for at least 3-4 months, until I get my prosthesis."
My heart started pounding.
Rob stood up, than hopped to the bed on his right leg. There was no left one. It was real this time. The left sleeve of his khakis was pinned up, very high above the knee. "Let's go out" he said, I can't stand staying at home. He wore one shoe, than put on a sweatshirt and took the crutches.
Rob had one leg.
I looked at him, leaning against his crutches. I felt sorry for him, naturally, but at the same time I could not believe my own good fortune.
People were looking at us, at him: a 16 year old boy with only one leg was not a usual sight. We were walking to the ice-cream bar on Main street. Not to many people, but they were all peeking at Rob. "Sit down", I said, "I'll bring you what ever you want."
"No", he replied, "I can pick my own".
He dragged himself to the counter, picked for me as well, and only then let me carry it to our table, realizing he wouldn't be able to do it and use his crutches at the same time.
We sat at a corner table and Rob put the crutches on the floor, so if someone approached the table he would not see at first glance that Rob was a bit different from the other boys in the store.
"I can see you don't have your cast anymore", it was Michael who stood there all of the sudden. He joined us and we started talking of the regular staff we used to talk about all the time. Then Michael saw the crutches on the floor.
"Hey, why do you need these for, I thought they took off the
cast ?"
"Well, Mickey", Rob put his arm around his neck, "it wasn't the only thing they took off."
Michael looked under the table, than looked up. He was a bit pale.
"Do you remember, just like the time when we were kids, you pretended you had only one leg."
"Well, today I really have just one, what a difference".
I looked at Michael, he was blushing, and I wondered: "Did he have the same feelings I had when I saw an amputee ?"
Rob was standing next to my bed one Saturday morning. My Grandpa probably let him in. He was standing there, two legs, no crutches.
"Hey, look, I can walk again ! I got my prosthesis yesterday" he said cheerfully.
"Great", I replied.
"Want to see it?"
"Sure", I was awake in an instant.
He sat on my bed, and took his jeans off. There
was a long, long metal leg attached to his short stump. He took it off and
handed it to me. I examined it with care, than looked at his naked stump. It was
very short, even a pair of ordinary shorts would cover it. 
"You may touch it if you like," he said softly.
Rob moved closer, and for the first time in my life I touched a real stump. It was strange, yet beautiful. I was excited, thrilled.
We spent most of our free time together, Rob, Michael, and me. Rob used his prosthesis at school, but to our meetings he would sometimes come without it. I especially liked it when he came wearing his khaki shorts. He never wore his prosthesis with shorts, saying he preferred to feel the airflow on his stump. The sleeves of his khaki shorts reached half way to the knee, and when Rob wore it the left sleeve stayed, obviously, empty, which made me more thrilled for some reason. We were in Michael's house one afternoon, Rob just left, and Michael's patents were abroad, leaving the house for ourselves. We watched Rob walking away using his crutches, when Michael said: "I want to show you something." He opened his closet, and I found myself looking at a pair of metal forearm crutches, just like the ones Rob had. I looked at Michael, hesitated a bit, than asked: "Do you have special feelings watching Rob, or any other amputee ?"
"Oh boy do I have it. Just like you have them."
"How the hell..."
"Hey, it takes one to know one."
"Poor Rob, he'll never know how thrilled we became when he lost his leg."
"I bought them when I was in Boston", Michael changed the subject, referring to the crutches in his closet.
I began thinking of Jake. It takes one to know one.
That evening I watched Michael become an amputee. I stayed at his house until it was late, and all that time he was walking around the house using his crutches very skillfully, his right jeans sleeve empty from the knee down. "I would like to go outside like this, be on the street", he said, "but everybody knows me here."
"We should do it in Boston, nobody knows you there," I said.
"Will you come with me ?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Michael's parents were due back in a week, so we had to do it beforehand.
It was a beautiful Monday morning, and there were not to many people on the ferry. We carried the crutches, hoping nobody would recognize us. We decided to start our little adventure on the train to Boston, where it was least likely for us to be recognized.
Michael was wearing gray pants and a business like shirt with a light jacket. We both had back packs. We had about twenty minuets before our train departure, so we headed to the men's room. Michael went into one of the cells, and I waited for him, holding the crutches. It took him some time, but finally he hopped out side on his left leg. If I didn't know better I would have thought myself he had no right leg. The disguise looked perfect. The right sleeve of his brand new trousers was pinned up, and it was almost impossible to notice he had a leg hidden there. A man came in, looked at the young one legged boy with some pity, and we were both in heaven.
Mike (that's how I called him) put on his back pack, then took the crutches, and we started walking towards the train. We sat down, and put the crutches in the overhead compartment. The train started moving, and Mike thought it was the best time to go to the men's room, using the seat heads as crutches. He got up, and started moving, at one point he almost fell down but a man sitting there helped him out and he continued. We got down in Boston, and walked the streets for a few hours, people were looking at Mike, the brave young boy with one leg.
After we had lunch we went into a shopping mall, headed to a "Gap" store. A young man assisted us. Mike went into the fitting room several times, coming out with a different pair of trousers, the right sleeve always empty from the knee down, dangling there without a leg to fill it in. Everybody in the store sneaked a look at Mike who put on a brave expression.
We then went into a magazines shop, Mike was standing there on his single leg, leaning on his crutches, looking at the papers. The sales lady looked at us than approached and asked: "Would you like to sit, I can bring you a chair ?"
Mike looked at her and said: "It's OK, really."
He than elbowed me with joy and winked. Mike had one leg, and he was the happiest guy on Earth.
We sat down on a bench for a while when Mike said: "My leg is getting numb, maybe we should switch now, nobody knows you here, it will be your first time in public."
My adventure was about to begin. The men's room was empty when Mike came out on his two legs and handed me the belt he used to tie his leg up. I went inside the cell, took off my left shoe and folded my left leg up, then tied it up with the belt and put inside my jeans. Than I pinned up the empty sleeve, put the remaining shoe in my back pack, put it on my back and hopped outside. The cleaning man was looking at me, a young boy with no leg, and I smiled at him. Mike was exited to see me: "Perfect, it looks real."
He gave me the crutches and saw what the rest of the people saw: a typical young American boy, wearing a sporty sweatshirt and jeans, pinned up from the knee, one running shoe, one leg, leaning at a pair of forearm crutches. Things couldn't be better. I had just one leg, and it was for everybody in Boston to see.
On the bus to the train station I was offered a seat, but declined. It was better to stand on my one leg, the only one I had and let everybody see. I put the crutches in one hand and held the rail in the other, jumping from time to time to stabilize myself. We walked slowly towards the train and stopped at a coffee stand. I waited outside while Mike bought a few bagels. I was standing on my own, put my "stump" on one crutch, and leaned on the other. It was an awesome feeling. It took Mike a few minuets to stand in line for the bagels, so I had an opportunity to check the reactions around.
An old couple, looking at me with empathy. Two little boys with their mom: "Look mom, he doesn't have a leg". I smiled at them but their mom hushed them, than picked at me herself. I started patting my "stump", and the elegant young girl who passed by me couldn't disguise the sheer horror on her face. I looked at my reflection in one of the windows, and was pleased, but not as pleased as I saw Mike do it, or when I saw a real one. Rob was the best option so far, after all he was the only amputee I knew in person.
Spring break. Rob and his parents were going to New York, and Rob invited me to join them. "We would have our own hotel room", he said, "we'll be like tourists ,it'll be fun." I hesitated a bit, I felt strange let someone else pay for me.
"Please! I'll be all alone there, I need someone to be with besides my parents, they are making me crazy since I lost the leg." Well, I couldn't resist this, could I ?
We stayed at the "Plaza" across Central Park. Rob and I got a beautiful room overlooking the park. We had four days ahead of us, and I already liked New York, it seemed the place to be, an exciting city.
Although Rob used his prosthesis, he brought his crutches to, just in case. We had a wonderful first day: The Statue of Liberty, The Empire State, "Cats", a dinner at a fancy restaurant. Rob looked like every other 16 year old, and except for the limp nothing was noticeable. We tuned to our room, and sat on my bed to watch "Star Trek", a late re-run on one of the local channels. Rob took his leg off, sitting next to me with his left trousers sleeve empty. I almost forgot during the day that he had just one leg, but now the feelings were all over me once again.
The next day we got to spend on our own. Rob's parents went uptown to visit some friends, and we had the city to ourselves. Rob's stump had begun hurting him last night, sore from the long walks, and so we went to our room after breakfast and he took it off, than pinned up the empty sleeve of his khakis and took his crutches: "I'm ready" he said. No way I was going to forget he had one leg today.
The Natural History Museum, The Sony Imax Theater, the ice skating ring at Rockefeller Center, they were all there for us. People were sneaking looks at Rob all the time, but he didn't seem to care. "It doesn't bother me anymore", he told me over lunch, "in fact I was thinking of buying a real pirate style wooden leg for costume parties or Halloween, in fact why don't we do it now ?" I was stunned, it seemed like he was almost happy he lost his leg, or maybe he simply took advantage of a grim situation. I didn't know what to believe in, but it didn't really matter, we were already on our way to a small workshop in the Village that specialized in, in what really ?
"One thing for sure, no problem catching a cab in New York when you have a leg missing." I couldn't agree more, people were actually fighting to give up their cab to the poor one legged boy.
At night we saw "Star Trek" again. Rob was sitting next to me on my bed with only his underwear on, and I couldn't take my eyes off his tiny little stump.
The following evening a long package was waiting for us in the room when we came back. It was a beautiful wooden peg leg and Rob tried it on. He was wearing his shorts and hopped to the shower on his leg, holding the peg leg in his hand. When he came out he was walking with a limp, but his left short sleeve wasn't empty anymore, it had a beautiful peg leg coming out of it. Rob started walking around the room on his new "toy", examining himself in the mirror, than turned to me and asked: "So ?"
"Nice"
Actually I thought it was fantastic, but I was afraid to reveal my true emotions.
Rob, being the practical joker he was, had to come to school with his new purchase, he couldn't wait to Halloween. He was wearing it over his folded jeans, and took it off during class, put it on again at breaks. It looked like my old day dreams were coming true. It also seemed Rob was telling the whole world, "hey, I have just one leg and I'm OK with it, are you ?"
The most astonishing thing happened my 17th summer. Mike didn't come back from his vacation, neither did his parents. Rob and me were checking his house every day, but there was nothing. I knew they all went to Palm Springs, where they had some family, but I didn't have any details. Rob and I used to sit in my room, Rob's prosthesis laid on the floor while he was sitting on my bed folding his jeans, and speculate.
"He may have moved"
"They were kidnaped"
"Abducted by aliens"
"Maybe they were spies ?"
"Yeah, sure, that must be it."
At school nobody told us anything, but we got the strange feeling they knew something. But what ?
The speculations ended one Saturday morning. A small knock on my door, I was still sleepy, and Mike was standing next to my bed.
"Well, what happened to you ?"
"A lot, really, but I will tell you all about it later."
"You could have written, say something."
"Oh, shut up, I want you to see something."
"Go ahead, make my day !"
Actually he did. He showed me a brand new pair of forearm crutches. "Can I use your bathroom ?"
" Oh, great time for pretending, maybe you should tell me where you've been first ?"
"Later."
He entered my bathroom carrying the crutches, and for a moment there I thought he was limping.
He came out leaning over the crutches, the right sleeve of his gray trousers pinned up as if he had no right leg.
"Well ?"
I wanted to say something funny, sarcastic, of the way he was in a hurry to pretend all of the sudden when I noticed his supposed "stump" was too short for pretending. It didn't end at the knee, where it should have, it ended about half way to the knee.
"How did you pull that one, where did you hide your leg ?"
I examined his pants closely, while he was standing there in the middle of my room on one leg, leaning over his crutches. The illusion was perfect, you really couldn't tell he was hiding his leg. I had to know how he did it.
He sat next to me, took off his wind jacket and said: "I lost a game of Poker in Palm Springs, Strip Poker."
"The one you have to pretend you lost an arm or a leg for a few days, I know that one, who did you play with ?"
"Some other guys our age, I knew one of them when I was a kid, I grew up in Palm Springs, you know ?"
As a matter of fact I didn't know, but it didn't matter.
"One of the guys, I think his name was Ron or Don, had lost his arm during a previous game", Mike continued. He came there with one of his sweatshirt's sleeve dangling. They told me it was their second game in a year and that I could quit right after they explained the rules, nobody would hold it against me, but once I agreed to stay I had to fully obey the rules. The rules were pretty simple, actually there was just one: the player who lost the most had to loose an arm or a leg. His choice."
"And you lost ?"
"yes."
"Don't tell me you will have to pretend for a whole year, it's to much even for you. Did the one who lost his arm tied it up for a whole year ?"
"No, he had one arm. It's for life, you know."
"Lucky for him, a one armed guy loses an arm at Limbs Poker."
"Actually, he had two before the game. They play once a year, remember, otherwise people will be limbless in weeks."
I didn't grasp it at first, than it hit me: "Is it for life ?"
"It is. I told you I lost the game."
I ran to the bathroom. An almost leg long prosthesis stood in the middle of it. Mike's right shoe was attached to it. "It's not faked" he said from behind, approaching me with his crutches. He dropped them suddenly, than put his arms around me using me as a crutch and giving me a hug at the same time. Tears filled his eyes: "Help me, Jimmy, I have an awful feeling I made a wrong choice.
Unlike Rob, Mike never came to school without his leg. He was always wearing long sleeve trousers, trying very hard to hide his limp. He took his prosthesis off only at home, or when he was with me. Mike's parents didn't know the truth about the Poker game. They assumed he had an accident, like he told them.
After the game, they gave him a choice: a leg or an arm. Mike chose to loose his right leg, above the knee. He was even happy he lost. He thought his dream actually came true. They took him to an old warehouse adjoining the rails. They tied his leg to the rails, making sure the train would amputate it above his knee, than waited for an hour or so. Then they took him to the hospital where the doctors simply had to "fine tune" the stump. At seventeen years Mike became one legged that night. At first he was happy, then he realized there was no going back. You couldn't release your leg out of the trousers. It was forever, and it may have been not so great.
Mike became gloomier, sad and melancholic. I was the only one in the world who really knew what happened the night of the "accident". We became very close, and spent a lot of time together. His parents used to travel a lot, business, and being an only child he had the house to himself. Sometimes I used to spend the night in his room. He had a huge bed, bought for him after the "incident", and we would seat on his bed eating popcorn and watching horror movies or "The X Files." He never showed me his stump, like Rob did. He didn't use his prosthesis in the house, but he would always be with me wearing long pants of some sort, letting one sleeve dangling empty, or pinned up. One night, he stood in the middle of the room, leaning on one crutch, half naked, I could see his stump's shape through the loose training pants, and said: "You have been a wonderful friend for me through all this, and just as you are the only one who knows what happened that night, I am the only one in the world who really knows what you want. I want it too." I got up of bed and approached him. He was taller than me, so I had to look a bit up when we were close. I saw, I felt, his stump for the first time that night.
And even though it was an awesome experience, I couldn't block Jake completely out of my mind.
Rob was the first one to notice something was wrong. It was at a time Mike seemed to have come to terms with the fact he had no leg. Sometimes he would even come to school using his crutches, his right sleeve pinned up high, as if he didn't care anymore everybody seeing he had just one leg. I was to focused with myself, the occasional nights with Mike, and missing Jake to see anything out of order. Rob , however, did. He called me over one evening. His parents were out and he was baby-sitting his four years old brother. I could here him hoping towards the door on his leg, he looked serious.
"I know what is going on with Mike. He may look OK but he is not. You seem to be his closest friend, you should do something about it."
"What do you mean ?"
"I know enough on the subject being an amputee myself, to observe what's going on with him. His happy content face is just a charade. He is deeply depressed because he participated in that stupid game, oh yes, I know that's why he lost his leg. This game has spread all over the country. How do you think your friend Scott lost his arm ? Some, not many, are so depressed after they loose an arm or a leg that they actually kill themselves. I think Mike fits the profile, and something should be done, or it will be to late."
I was stunned. How the hell did he know so much ? And what should I do about Mike ?
I did nothing for a few days, I didn't know what to do, than I decided I had to do something. I went to Mike's home one evening. His mother opened the door: " Am I glad to see you", she said, "Mike is in his room, he wouldn't come out, I don't know what to do." I ran upstairs. His door was locked. "Mike, it's me, open the door." A few seconds of silence, the most scary ones I have ever had, than the sound of hopping and a key turning. Mike was standing there, leaning against the door, half naked wearing his old jeans, the empty sleeve dangling down the wooden floor. I could tell he was crying. He gave me a big hug, than sat on the bed.
"Don't do it. I'll get you help, anything, just don't do it".
Mike looked at me, than said: "You don't understand, I can't live like this. Before it was all a game, a pretense, now it's real, everybody is looking at me with pity, that poor boy with only one leg. People don't see me, they see ... nobody likes me for who I am anymore, it's that one legged boy, I can't stand it."
"I like you for who you are, and you know it. Besides, look at it as a game: when you put your prosthesis on you have two legs, when you take it off, well, you are the perfect pretender, it's like you can take off your real leg any time you want, we can do Boston all over again. The perfect illusion."
Mike looked at me with a little smile, then said: "Show me that you really like me."
"Fine. Let's play a little game. A game of pretense".
And we did.
The next day, a beautiful young boy entered the small coffee shop on the pier. I was sitting there having some juice while looking at the bay in the peaceful twilight, when I noticed him. He was about my age, taller, bright hair, skinny and tall. He had a fragile look on his somewhat sad face. He was wearing a suit and a tie, white shirt under the dark jacket, gray pants. He was alone. He was leaning over a pair of shiny forearm crutches. My heart started pounding, and I looked at his legs in hope. I tried not to look for long, he wasn't far from me and I didn't want him to see that I was watching. The right sleeve of his pants was pinned up high. Yes! He had only one black shoe.
He approached the counter and talked to the old lady . He pointed at a cake while leaning on one crutch, putting his small stump on the other. Then he picked up his crutches and walked slowly, using his crutches, and sat at a table not far from me. He put his crutches on the floor. Then he suddenly looked at me, or was it the bay view behind me? I couldn't tell. The old lady brought him the cake and some warm drink. I decided to be bold.
I got up and approached him: "H...hello, I'm Jimmy, are you new here?"
The one legged boy looked at me: "I'm Mike. My family and I are moving here, sit down please."
It seemed his family would join in a few days. Meanwhile he had a room at a motel near by.
"I can show you around, if you like".
"I'd like that".
Than we started to walk on the pier, and I could see that people were looking at him.
He saw that I noticed the looks and said without me asking: "Oh, I don't mind the looks. I could have had a prosthesis if I wanted to, but it's easier for me without it. It's as if I broke a leg only I don't have the cast, or the leg. I don't want an artificial leg. I tried it and my stump was sore. It's easier for me like that, and if people want to look, well, I don't really mind."
We sat a few times on the benches. At one time he leaned on me to get up. It was liberating. Later I followed him to the motel. He put his crutches against the wall while he was looking for the key.
Then he hopped inside, and I brought them in. "Oh, just put them on the floor somewhere. He sat on the bed. "Want to watch some TV ? "
"Sure."
He took off his shoe, than his jacket, tie and the shirt. I could see that he had a gorgeous upper body: smooth and beautiful. He stayed with only his pants on, the right sleeve pinned up high. We sat next to each other watching an old re run of "I love Lucy".
Most of the time I was looking at his missing leg. I think he may have noticed that. His arm was around me all of a sudden: "Hey little friend, it's OK, I felt his warm cheek pressed against mine. Than he took my hand gently and put it on his stump.
We hugged, and I could feel his bare stump in my hands. We were both excited. Then we fell asleep.
I woke up in the morning. He wasn't there. A few minuets later he came in, wearing blue navy shorts, the right sleeve empty, and a white T-shirt. "Hey", he smiled at me, "I ordered some breakfast." He sat near me and we had these feelings from last night again. We took the shower together, he was leaning on me under the water, than crawled to bed again. He had a warm body and I let him hug me again. It was great.
Mike and I began having those little adventures. Sometimes I would meet him on the ferry to the mainland, he'd stand there, leaning at the rail on his one leg watching the sea, and than using me as a crutch when the boat turned a bit, other times I would meet him in the fields and we would have a little adventure over there. There was a prime condition to each of our little games: we pretended we didn't know each other, that this was our first meeting. It was, obviously, our secret.
I was on the main street of one of the little towns on the shore when I saw Mike one day, getting out of a little shop. He had both his legs that day. He saw me and winked. I followed. Suddenly he leaned against a wall, an expression of pain all over his face. "Can you help me?" He murmured. I didn't know if it was part of the game or not, but I played along. He put his arm around me and said: "There must be something wrong with my prosthesis, I can't walk with it any more.
"Oh, I didn't know you had just one leg..."
"Oh, stop it, this isn't a part of the game, I'm having a real problem here, and I don't have my crutches with me, I'm in trouble."
We sat at a nearby coffee shop and thought about what should be done. It finally came to me: "Take it off, your prosthesis, we'll take it back in a plastic bag. I will be your crutch until you get home, you'll simply lean on me all the way home. Over there you have your crutches, so you will be OK."
And so it was.
Mike went into the bathroom, and when he came out the right sleeve of his jeans was pinned up, he held a big shopping bag in his hand, and he hopped with one leg towards me, and all the people were looking. I got up and let him put his arm around me, than we started to move slowly towards the harbor. I could feel his body pressed against mine with each step, it was awesome.
For the next few days Mike was using his crutches, and he did seem OK with it. Our little pretending sessions gave him a confidence he didn't seem to have before. After a while he seemed to come to terms with his loss, and our sessions were not as frequent as they once were.
I wanted Jake to come back.
Summer came and Jake was coming back home, as he promised. I was now 18, graduated from High School!
A few days before Jake was due back I ran into Scott on the main street. He was walking towards me, the left empty sleeve of his jacket shoved into a pocket, so you couldn't really tell he had no arm. "Hey Scott", I was really glad to see him. He was a part of Jake's circle of friends and therefore carried warm memories. Scott gave me a look like he wanted to pat me on the head as if I was still the little kid he knew.
"I didn't see you for a long time, how are you ?"
"I'm fine", I said.
"I heard about your friend, I was real sorry to hear he got caught up in that stupid game."
"Yea, well..."
He looked at me for another minute, than said: "Come on, let's go for a walk."
We walked on the pier for a while, then we went into his family's boat and sat down. He took of the jacket and I could clearly see the short empty sleeve of his T-shirt.
"Yea, take a good look at it. It's the result of a great stupidity, foolishness if you like."
I was listening.
"It started when we were about 14 years old. Jake came back from New York, he's been there with his mother, and taught us a new game he learned: Poker. At first we played ordinary games, batting on sweets, small things, unimportant. Than one evening Steve told us about another version of the game: Strip Poker. Each of the participants had to loose more cloths as the game progressed. We started playing strip poker. Than we heard of another version of the game, which was spreading around the country: He who lost the most, lost an arm or a leg. in the tougher versions you could loose even more. We didn't want to really cut anybody's limb, and so we decided to pretend: he who lost the most had to pretend he had no arm or a leg for a week, until we played our next game. We bought a pair of crutches somewhere, and started to play. We were almost fifteen, just a few months before you arrived on the island. The first one to loose was Jake. He was living alone in that big house they had, and so not many people saw him without his leg, the left one. The minute he lost, he went to his room and stayed there for a few minutes. When he came out he was standing with the crutches, smiling, the left pant of his jeans pinned up. He really did look like he had only one leg.
The following months we had weekly sessions of our game. You saw the results yourself: the one who lost the most had to imitate the loss of a limb for a week, until the next game.
Then we went to college, and things changed. I met some people who played the game for real. They played it once every few months, but when they did, the one who lost had to remove a limb for real. I thought I knew how to play, I had all this experience, and I really didn't loose at first. It was only at my third game that I lost my arm. And you can't cheat, they make sure that when you loose, you really loose. "
"Jake played it too ?", I asked.
"Jake was in a different college, but he played a few times. When he saw what happened to me he stopped. No, Jake may have had the most ironic story of us all. He stopped playing the game, and he was fine, you saw him here and there, he was OK."
My heart started to pound. What was he saying ?
Scott continued: "A few months ago I got an e-mail from Jake, he asked me to come and see him in New York. We met at his mother's apartment, near Central Park. He looked fine, just like he always did, and I had no reason to suspect anything. Now, he asked me not to tell you what he told me, I think he want's to tell you himself, so act surprised when he does.
Jake...how shell I say it, Jake had a small accident. His car was crushed by a truck six months ago. He almost got killed. His leg, the left one, was shattered. He was in the hospital for a few weeks, and went through several operations. The doctors tried very hard to save his leg, but in the end there was no choice, it had to be amputated."
I was stunned. My heart was biting like crazy, and I had tears in my eyes. I was sad, and happy at the same time. My emotions were flowing through me without control. I loved Jake very much and I didn't want anything bad happening to him, but...hey, my most secretive dreams came true, well almost. Should I be in heaven ?
Scott gave me a big warm hug, he saw the tears in my eyes, and than he said: "hey, kid, Jake is fine, he is alive, you should be happy."
Yes, I should.
I wanted Jake to be here. He knew how to make me laugh just by being there, he was the only solid thing in my life. The thought of him almost getting killed drove me crazy.
I couldn't wait to see him. I missed him terribly. And yes, I was happy he stayed alive, and with only one leg. God, what was my life turning into ?
Three days later Jake came back.
I was trying to take a nap in the back yard, when I opened my eyes all of a sudden: and there he was, standing in front of me, tall, blond, as beautiful as he ever was, as strong as I remembered him. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, and he was smiling:
"Hey Jimmy".
He sat next to me, I couldn't tell what I wasn't suppose to know, that one of his legs was artificial.
He gave me a warm hug, and I buried my face in his strong stable chest, trying to stop the flowing tears. Jake kissed me on the head, than on my chick: "Hey kid, I'm back, and I'm staying here, nothing bad will happen, I promise."
My grandfather brought some cold lemonade. He was real happy to see Jake, he always liked him, since the days he used to paint our wooden fence. They talked about many things: Jake's mother, his studies, and so on. Jake didn't mention his leg, and I acted as if I knew nothing. Later we went to the pier and Steve was there, and he and Jake exchanged a few words I couldn't hear. I could tell they were looking at me, and I imagined Steve asked Jake if he already told me. Meanwhile I observed Jake . I noticed how he put most of his weight on his right leg, and yes, there was a small, almost unnoticeable limp. It could be anything, but it could be he had just one leg. I still couldn't grasp it: Jake, only one leg ?
A pair of forearm metal crutches was the first thing I noticed when I entered Jake's house. It was standing in the corner, all shiny and new. Jake noticed I looked at it, he put his arm on my shoulder and said: "Sit down, there's something I want to tell you."
My mouth became dry.
"A few months ago I had an accident..."
He began telling me what I already knew.
He than took the crutches and went to the other room. When he came back he was wearing his navy blue shorts. The left pant was empty, and he was using the crutches. He had a very short stump, completely covered by the shorts. He put his stump on one crutch's handle, leaned on the other one and just stood there, letting me absorb the fact he had only one leg. I walked towards him and he put his arm around me and said: "Come on, let's go to the fields."
Jake was 21 now, I am 18. It created a stir, but we live together in his house, and finally I feel at home. Completely at home. In a few months, Jake will get his settlement from his accident. His solicitor says it will amount to several million dollars. Jake smiles, and says we'll move to California, to a little town by the ocean where he's planning to buy a little house, just for the two of us. I may go to a local college, I may not. It's time to live life honestly. With someone I love. For everything he is.
The future is ours.