Copperback (19 page)

I
wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him he didn’t need to. I wanted him
no matter what. If I had to wait on him for the rest of my life, I was prepared
to do it. I understood that he wanted to be strong for me, but it wasn’t
necessary. At the same time, though, I didn’t want to deny his request.

“What
do I need to do?”

“You
need to stay close, like the last time. I’m going to get real hot, and I assume
it’s not going to be pleasant for you. If I hurt, I don’t want you to stop. I
will pull away if I can’t take anymore. Can you do that for me?”

I
nodded. I was afraid that it would be like the last time. They say if it hurts,
then you know it’s healing, but accelerated – I couldn’t handle another bout of
screaming. I moved next to him, in the same spot as before, putting my head
against his shoulder and my hand on his chest. I could feel his arm behind me, and
he brought his other hand up to hold my face, stroking his thumb across my
cheek. He was so close again, and his sweet breath was already taking effect. I
tried to move closer, but his hand held firm, preventing me.

“Don’t
kiss me yet. Let me do that after.”

“Okay,”
I said dreamily. I had become so relaxed, I felt like falling asleep. I forced
myself to keep my eyes open. “How long should this take?”

“Anytime
now. Just promise you won’t stop.”

“I
promise.”

I
could feel his skin getting warm through the shirt. At first, it was a comfortable
heat – no more than being outside in the August sun. It felt so inviting. He
grinned at me, still holding my face close; his warm touch was so pleasant, I
was content with staying like this for the rest of the night.

Within
seconds, the soothing heat had become unbearable. He kept his hand in place,
but it was no longer comforting, as my face was becoming sticky with sweat. I
could feel his body under me begin to tense, and his face had twisted into a
pained look as he took in deeper breaths.

I
could barely hold onto him. The heat of his skin had grown so intense, it
seemed his shirt would soon catch on fire and disintegrate under my hand. His
palm felt as though it was scorching my skin as his fingers curled, preventing
them from tearing at my face.

Only
a few minutes had passed, but I could see he couldn’t go on for much longer. His
eyes were locked on mine as he struggled against the pain. Every vein in his
neck and face was bulging as he struggled to maintain control. I started to cry,
seeing him like this. I would rather him sit and wait than do this just so he
could feel like he was doing something right. I didn’t want to watch him suffer,
and finally closed my eyes.

He
must have known I couldn’t watch him do this to himself. He pulled his hand
away, and I could hear him holler at the ceiling, away from my ear. He was
hissing air between his gritted teeth. I opened my eyes again to see his head tilted
back, waiting for the pain to stop. It didn’t take nearly as long this time
around before he was able to relax. I kept my head down, in case the episode
started back up again, while I ran my hand up to his neck. The heat was fading,
but his shirt had been soaked through, and sweat was dripping off his face. I
waited for him to slow his breathing before talking again. I wanted him to take
all the time he needed. Based on past experience, it took a lot out of him to
accomplish what he had just done.

“Did
it work? Are you okay now?”

He
pulled his arm from around me and held out the hand that had been damaged by
the broken glass. I unwound the bandage to find that there was nothing left but
the small amount of blood that had collected, like it had never happened. The
jagged edges had faded away, and not even the hint of a scar was left. As happy
as I was to see him healed, he didn’t seem to share my joy.

“And
your leg?”

“I’m
– I’m not sure,” he said breathlessly. “It still hurts. Not as bad, though.”

I
hadn’t even looked to see if there was any difference. I was too stunned by the
healing of his hand to look at anything else. Glancing down, there was very
little change. The bruising had diminished, but there was no way to tell if
there was any other improvement. I could feel him lean his head down to look, as
well. I could see the disappointment on his face when I turned to him.

“I’m
sorry I couldn’t – I don’t like seeing you hurt, but I’ll do it again – if you
need me to?”

“It’s
okay. I don’t think I can do that again for a while. At least it wasn’t a waste
of time.”

He
turned back to his leg. I had to look again to see what he was referring to.
Beyond his leg, he was moving his foot around and curling his toes, like there
had never been an issue. It was amazing to see that, even after everything he
had suffered, he would be able to get up and walk one day. It just wasn’t going
to be today.

“Does
it hurt to do that?” I asked, remembering back to all his failed attempts that
nearly made him pass out.

“A
little – I think I want to try something. You have to move out of the way,
though.”

He
didn’t have to tell me what he was planning on doing. He was bound and
determined to stand, and I didn’t want to get in the way of that. I didn’t have
the heart to tell him that laying down and standing were going to be two
different things. I moved out of the way to let him slide his legs off the side
of the bed. He moved quickly, considering what he had just been through. I
wasn’t sure if it was the excitement of being able to get out of bed, or the burst
of energy he had referred to, from the excess of carbon dioxide. I had never seen
him so enthusiastic before.

“Just
take it easy. Try standing on your good leg first, before putting any weight on
the other one – as a precaution.”

He
nodded, and I held out my hands just in case he lost his balance. Job pulled himself
up on one leg; he didn’t need my help. His steadiness was perfect, just like
everything else about him. He didn’t teeter, the way most of us would have. He
looked like he could do it all day. Seeing him standing there, I hadn’t
realized he was so tall. It wasn’t giant tall, but he had to have been at least
six three or six four. I had guessed he was about that height when I got the
jeans, I just didn’t know what it looked like in person.

He
stepped down lightly at first, shifting more weight to his bad leg, but before
he could stop, I could see it was too much. He lost his balance and nearly
collapsed into my arms, holding on for support. I could hear him grunting and
gasping. Watching him push himself so hard was ripping my heart out. He leaned
into me, nearly knocking me over in the process. Any more, and we both would
have ended up in a pile on the floor. I had to use all my strength to keep him
from falling over. I gave him a minute, until he was finally able to steady
himself again.

“I
guess I’m stuck here for now. I wanted this to be special.”

I
could hear the disappointment in his voice, and see it in his eyes. As far as
he had come, he was still looking at this as a failure. I wasn’t sure if there
was anything I could do to help. The idea struck me suddenly. Without saying a
word, I let go of him and ran to the back of the basement, near the laundry, in
hopes of finding something that would assist him.

Behind
the boxes shoved in the back, I found them– just as ugly as the day Chase
painted them in the high school colors of red and white. Dragging out the
crutches, I couldn’t be sure if they would work for him, due to the height
difference. I studied them closer and saw they could be extended up to three
more notches. After some effort, I was able to slide them out – chipping off a
copious amount of dried paint in the process – and brought them back to Job,
still poised on one leg.

“What
are those?” He was looking at them as though I had brought him some crazy contraption.

“They
are crutches, and they are going to help you stay out of bed. I just need to
show you how to use them.”

Getting
him to understand how to hold them was easy. Getting him to move forward took a
little effort on both our parts. I had never used crutches in my life, and wasn’t
sure what to do. He learned how to put them in front of him pretty quickly, but
was getting confused about the proper way to keep one leg up and swing forward
with the other one. The space was small, and there was only enough room to try
twice before having to turn around again. However, after a few near accidents –
and some pain – he had figured them out, and already looked like a pro. I was
waiting for him to start walking around with them like stilts – a trick Chase
had learned after a few weeks.

“Is
that better?” I asked

“Yeah
– it’ll work for now. I think you’ve been waiting for something.” He leaned
down close, so he was at my height.

Job
tugged at my shirt with his fingers, getting me to come in closer. I didn’t
hesitate at first. I had been waiting, and had done everything he asked. Wrapping
my arms around his broad shoulders, ready to lean in, I could still feel the
sweat on his shirt and the back of his neck. This time he was going to do what
I asked; our lips just inches apart, I backed away, smiling a devilish grin. He
looked at me, amazed I had stopped him.

“I
have a surprise for you, first, but you have to come with me.”

He
stood there, astonished, lips moving without making any sound, as though he was
trying to ask questions. I shushed him with my finger and walked away to the
stairs. He seemed to be hesitant about leaving the room, but followed. I seized
one of the crutches from under him, knowing the dangers of using them on a
staircase – another thing Chase had learned after his first week.

“Just
hold onto the rail on your way up.”

I
turned around and walked up, hoping he would follow. I was taking a risk
bringing him, but I wanted him to be able to have the freedom I took for
granted. I raced upstairs in front of him, checking that all the blinds had
been shut in the living room and kitchen. I ran back just as he made it to the
top, and handed his other crutch back to him.

He
looked curious, since he had never seen anything of my house other than the basement.
His eyes searched everywhere, memorizing the kitchen. I walked with him through
to the living room, where he saw the makeshift bed I had created. He looked
confused.

“It
was just till I could have my pillows back. Besides, I couldn’t hear you from my
room if you needed anything.”

He
smiled at my thoughtfulness and went back to searching the house, learning everything
about it. I walked him down the hall. Eyes questing, he saw my room near the
end. He stopped short – eyes wide – afraid to go any further.

“I
– I don’t think I’m – I’m ready for – that.” His nerves were apparent, and he backed
up, trying to escape the hallway.

“I’m
not taking you there – here.” I swung the bathroom door open and turned on the
light, showing him inside. He studied it, wondering why I wanted him to see it.

“I
figured you could use a shower. I’m not saying you stink, because you don’t.
You’ve been in the same shorts for almost two weeks, and I bought you some new
clothes while I was out. I’m not sure what will fit, but we can try. Clean
towels are hanging up, and soap and shampoo is in the shower.”

He
cautiously made his way into the bathroom, looking around. He blinked hard at
the brightness of the room. The white-on-white décor was a bit too much for his
eyes to take. I reached in to turn on the vanity light before turning off the
main light, dimming the room.

“I
hate to ask this, but – which one is the shower?” He was smiling, but behind
the smile, he was confused. He had never seen a real bathroom before. Whatever
they used where he came from must have looked different from what we had. I
pointed out the items in the bathroom, describing each one, and finished with the
tub. Opening the curtain, I showed him how to turn on the hot and cold water
and get the shower head to spray.

“Just
make sure you take off your clothes before you get in, and don’t forget to close
the curtain, or water will get on the floor. Do you think you need any help?”

I
was hoping he would say no. I didn’t want to have to deal with the awkwardness.

“I
think I’ll be ok.” He didn’t sound too sure.

“If
you need me, just yell. I’m going to run out to get you something to wear real
quick. I’ll be right back.”

I
left him alone, closing the door behind him. I stood in the hall, listening
close to make sure he was doing okay. I could hear the water turn on and the
curtain rings clicking across the rod as he closed it. He would be fine for a
little while, and it gave me a chance to get him the new clothes.

I
ran outside. The rain had turned into a downpour, soaking me before I could
even reach the trunk and unlock it. I used the trunk lid as cover, scrambling
to find an outfit for him, taking out whatever I saw first. Balling the clothes
up, I held them close, making an effort to keep them dry as I raced back into
the house.

I
was drenched by the cold rain. As refreshing as it felt to rinse off the salty
sweat, though, I would still need a change of clothes. I walked by the bathroom,
and heard the water still running – I had time to change. Pulling out a
different button down blouse – identical to the one I was wearing, but in baby
blue – and a new tank in the same hue, I stripped out of my wet clothes and
into the fresh ones.