Love and Legs

The Autumn air was crisp and leaves blew around my feet. I had been coming to this spot at a ranch in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains for twelve years now. Since eighteen my whole life had been about writing. I took to it my senior year of high school and pursued the pages as an outlet for my problems and dreams. Then I started to write fiction and my career took off. The beautiful river that flowed through the ranch property made for a great remedy for writer's block and a good way to clear my head. It's funny, for so long my escape has been my books. Now my own book was coming to and end.

I snap out of my head and back to reality. I'm no longer at the ranch, I'm at the local clinic two hours away from the serenity of my river, in the busy city of Lake Tahoe, CA.

Cancer. A word no one ever wants to hear.

"You have cancer." Dr. Rambi said as he showed me my screens and lab work, all proving why I have been feeling like I've been stabbed in the back of the calf with a hot poker for months. I heard the words but couldn't comprehend.

"It was just leg pain." I said in confusion. "Just leg pain and some swelling. I must have twisted wrong, pulled something."

"I know this is very difficult to comprehend, but we have counselors that can help you. they can help you understand the gravity of the situation then we can move on to treatment plans." Dr. Rambi replied, as he held out a pamphlet. I just shook my head in reply and grabbed the booklet with smiling faces ready to hear your call on it. "Call them. I want you back in two weeks to discuss our plans."

My best friend, Alex, waited for me in the waiting room of the clinic. "Hey! How did it go? It's a pulled muscle isn't? I knew it, Jo. You shouldn't have tried rollerblading. Stick to writing." he said matter-of-fact.

"It's cancer." I said. "The swelling was a tumor. It's pressing on a nerve in the back of my calf." I was so spaced out and in my own head I'm sure I looked as confused as I felt. Alex just stood there, dumbfounded. I started to walk out of the clinic door and to the parking lot. I walked with the cane Alex had gotten me when I first developed my limp. Finally joining me in my crippled saunter, "Cancer? No that's like a thing older people get. You're thirty, an accomplished writer..." he trailed off.."my best friend..." he looked down at his feet. "Okay. So what did they say about it? Anything else? Is it spreading? Can they cut it out? You know chicks with scars are hot." he chuckled to himself lightly.

Alex always had a way of bringing humor to the worst situations. It was his gift, cheering people up. He had been my only true friend and I his. We had been through it all, from bullying in high school, break ups, all the way to moving, watching my career take off and helping him get into rehab. He had 5 years clean of heroin in January. No matter what, we were there for each other. No matter what, Alex was there for a laugh and a cheerful outlook on the situation and usually I laugh and say he's right, and I would turn our situations into fantasy stories with worse problems and easy solutions where the hero always won. Not this time. This time my own story saw no way of a happy ending. This is one battle a hero, no matter how golden, could beat. Cancer was cancer and although it did happen to a few lucky ones, cancer hardly ever lost.

"It's cancer, Alex. Not some torn tendon they can go and repair. This is big leagues. Cells and whatnot. You can't stop biology. Not at a microscopic level. Please take me home. I have to think."

It was two weeks later and we had just left my doctor's appointment. "We'll beat the shit out of this." he said as he pulled into the driveway of my apartment. "What do we need to do? Radiation? Chemo? What did the doc say? You haven't spoken a word since we left that office. I knew I should have went in with you. I can't help you if I..." I cut him off. "Stop! The treatment he wants to do isn't gonna happen, okay?!" I began to tear up and my voice cracked. "It's getting harder to walk and the only good news about anything is that the cancer is contained to my leg."

"That's great!" Alex said relived. "They will cut it out and bada bing bada boom! Done with it!"

"Cut it out. Ha!" I laughed under my breath, full on tears streaming down my face now. I looked out the window of Alex's '69 Camaro, classic American muscle. I watched the rain droplets race each other down my window. Always rooting for the underdog, knowing the same fate was destined for both, a big puddle on the ground. Watching the rain fall down literally and figuratively on my life. "They said the only way to give me a significant survival rate is to cut the leg off. Off, Alex. As in one legged wonder. A cripple."

I got out of the car and up to my apartment as fast as my limp would let me.

It had been another week and yet another doctor's appointment. Alex drove me since with my leg I couldn't drive and I had no one else. I guess I would have to get used to both. No one wants a friend with one leg and is dependent on everyone.

This appointment was different. We scheduled the surgery, January 3rd. One week from today. Funny, my life seemed measured in weeks and appointments. That would be the day my life is ripped apart. That would be the day Jo Rae Lynch died. As far as I could see it, might as well dig the grave and slap the date on the gravestone.

Alex walked me up to my door as it was getting even harder to walk. "So," he said. "Writing anything good?" he unlocked the door and I hobbled to the couch and slumped down, squinting in pain as my rotting leg landed on the cushions. I halfheartedly waved towards my desk. "I haven't wrote since the diagnoses."

"What?" he said. "Why? You have have a gift."

"A gift, Alex? A week from now I'll be nothing more than a dependent. No gift ever saved me."

"A cancer free dependent." he said quietly. "I'm just so happy and thankful you'll be here still."

I looked at him, dragged my bum leg and got to my feet. I pointed my finger into his chest. "You don't get it do you? you think everything is a joke. I wish I would just die. I wish God would just take me now so I could save the embarrassment. What do I have to live for anyway?"

Defensively he replied. "Your career. Your life." he got even quieter, you could hear the hurt and anger in his voice, "You have me." Sensing his pain but not caring I said "Oh yeah. Great, Alex. That's right. My wonderful career writing crappy little stories and my life?" I laughed, "My little apartment, no family that gives a damn, and no friends except an ex junkie from my high school that hasn't done anything but be like an obsessed puppy dog."

My voice getting louder and angrier. "Oh! And heroin! You've done plenty of that! Can't forget how many times I saved you from overdosing on my bathroom floor!"

"Screw you." he said. almost as a whisper. His abrupt curse shook me back to my senses. What was I doing? I was glad to have helped him. Thankful he was alive and 5 years clean was a magnificent feat. Even high on heroin he never lashed out. Never at me. "Alex," I stammered. "I..I'm... I'm so sorry..."

Tears fell from his eyes. " Keep your freaking apologies!" he yelled.

He stormed passed me and out the door. I heard him peel out and drive off. I made my way back to the couch and cried myself to sleep. I had lost everything in one day.

I hadn't heard from Alex since our fight. I hurt him bad and I deserved all I got but as I rode in the Uber driver's car to the hospital for surgery, a small selfish part of me felt pain he wasn't here.

I check in for surgery and as they were about to send me to pre-op a nurse comes in with a gift. "This came for you today, love. It's post marked for a couple weeks ago though. I wanted to show you before surgery. Maybe it will give encouragement." I smile and thank her.

I opened the rather big box. It was a prosthetic leg. I had looked online for a price check awhile ago, they weren't cheap and this one was top of the line. Opening the small card on the outside, I read it and my heart skipped a beat. It was from Alex. Butterflies filling my stomach, I read,

"Hey my Jo Jo, need a leg up? Hahaha get it? I know you haven't a need for this yet but I wanted it here for whenever your surgery is. I had it delivered to the hospital so they could help you with it. I know life is tough but remember what you told me when I went to rehab? You said life was like a book. Sometimes we think a book is ending when really it's just the beginning of a new chapter, and when it is the end of the book, we have to remember we have the power to start over. To write a sequel. Well Jo, whatever this is for you, chapter, sequel, or whole new book, I just hope I'm still a character. Love always, Alex."

How stupid I felt. I pushed the one person who has always loved me. Really loved me. I wanted nothing more than to find him and talk to him but the nurse took my card and gift away and I was off to pre-op and surgery.

I woke up about four hours after surgery. It went well. Better in fact, the hadn't had to go as high up as they thought so I had a little more leg left than was expected.

"Nurse?" I asked. "Has anyone called for me or stopped by?"

"No" she said "I'm sorry."

My heart dropped but I looked towards my new leg on the chair across the room, I had a new meaning and a new outlook. I had to get better. I had to find Alex.

I worked with therapy for about a month after I got the OK to use my leg. I tried calling Alex many times but especially on his 5 year mark. No answer. That was about 6 weeks ago. It was February now. Valentine's Day to be exact and I had gotten great news. I was cleared from therapy to walk. I was going home. I called for an Uber and was discharged from the hospital. My driver took me to my apartment but I asked him to wait. I took my stuff to the door and went back to the car. "304 Queen drive, please."

I needed to see Alex.

We arrived to Alex's house and I could see something was wrong. His Camaro was carelessly parked in the driveway and front door was open a crack.

I cautiously peaked in, "Alex?" I heard rustling in the bathroom.

"Oh no" I thought. "He's relapsing!" Alex!" I yelled. " Alex it's Jo!"

I found him on the side of his bathtub sitting with a rubber tie on his arm and a needle hovering over his vein.

"Alex please! I was wrong! I'm sorry! I deserve everything I get but you are a pure soul.. don't do this to yourself."

He looked up, "You...you're..using your leg." he said, his voice shaking.

He dropped the needle. "I...I .haven't used... I was going too. I want too but...you're a stronger drug than heroin."

I walked to him, proudly on my new leg. I reached down and helped him up. I lifted my new leg and step on the syringe, breaking it, spilling the drug on the floor. My hands found the rubber tie on his arm and untied it, releasing the constricted veins. I put my arms around his neck and his arms find my waist.

"I think I'm gonna stop writing fiction. At least for one book. I'm thinking of turning over a new leaf. How about a story about hope, life, reality? That's the beauty of writing, right? You can always write something new?"

He smiled his soft smile, "Can I still be one of the characters? Even a small one."

I leaned up to reach his lips with mine. Smiling I said, "A small one? Silly boy. Hero's are always the main character."

Our lips met again, just two broken souls, with a whole new beginning in front us.