Camy Tang - Sushi for One?

She left her brace and her clothes on the floor. Getting out of the changing room reminded her of her office at work. She backed up, pulled open the door, and then stepped out. Anakin sat in a hallway chair waiting for her, foot jiggling. Another frown when she appeared.

He led her into a small, sterile room crammed with the biggest toilet paper roll she’d ever seen. Except it was made of hard plastic instead of toilet paper. A table was attached to the roll, and he stabbed a black-painted fingernail at it. “Hop up.”

The cold temperature and complex machinery made her shiver. Too much like a hospital. She took small steps to turn around -quite difficult with two extra “legs” – and sat down. “What about my shoes?”

He loosed a frustrated grunt as he turned around and exited. He returned with a plastic bag. “Dump your stuff in here.”

She shed her shoes. “I left my clothes back in the changing room.”

He looked like she’d asked him to give her his firstborn child.

“Fine, I’ll get them.” He pointed at her leg. “Put that in the holster.”

Like a gun about to go off? Sounded like her temper. She lifted her knee gently to drop it into the plastic thingy that looked like a big stalk of celery.

Anakin came around the other side and grabbed her leg.

“Ow! What are you doing?”

“Just positioning it correctly.”

He pulled and pushed. Lex gritted her teeth, wincing with each rough movement. Her knee started to feel warm again, like a fever in the joint. “Watch it! You’re going to injure it more.”

He gave a last tug. “Okay, lie back.”

He left the room – thankfully – but then the table started to move her toward the toilet paper roll.

“CAN YOU HEAR ME?” His voice shot out over the ceiling speaker as loud as a rock concert.

“Turn it down. Are you trying to give me hearing problems too?”

“How’s this.”

It was a statement, not a question, but she answered anyway. “It’s fi – ”

“Okay, now keep perfectly still or else the MRI won’t work.”

Bam! Bam! Bam! At first Lex thought they were gunshots. Then she realized the sound came from the machine.

Wait a minute. How long was this going to take? She didn’t know how long she could stand the firecrackers from the toilet paper roll…

It seemed like forever. Luckily, the machine didn’t snap, crackle, and pop the entire time. Finally, his voice blasted over the loudspeaker, making it vibrate. “Okay, you’re done.”

Praise God.

She got her clothes back on, although pulling up the warm-up pants was like threading a wet noodle into a keyhole.

As she left, the tech handed her the MRI photos.

“Th – ” Thanks for what? The second worst day of her life?

He didn’t notice her hesitation. He just shook his head.

“What is it?”

“You’ll need to verify with your doctor, but it looks like you tore your ACL. You’ll need surgery.”

Even before her dad handed her the plain white envelope, Lex’s heart cracked – a deafening sharp sound like a glacier splitting in two and sliding into the cold Sea of Japan.

You have been accepted into the Wassamattayu sports club for the coed and women’s volleyball teams…

She folded the letter up precisely, sharpening the folds, sliding it back into the envelope. She laid it on the coffee table next to the couch where she lay with her knee propped up.

Darren had called earlier that day to tell her of her acceptance.

“Darren… I tore my ACL last week.” Her voice cracked. Her nails dug into the phone, making her cuticles ache.

“Are you sure?”

“I had an MRI and saw my doctor today. I have surgery scheduled for a couple weeks from now.”

“Lex…” A heavy whoosh over the phone as he sighed. “We have an Injured Reserve list, but it’s usually as long a wait as the wait list.”

Tears stung her eyes. She snapped her jaw shut and bit her tongue.

“I’m sorry, Lex. I’ll put you on the IR list. Maybe in a few years.”

Click.

The severing of all her hopes.

She swallowed as she stared at the envelope. Insult to injury. Insult to ACL injury.

She picked up the envelope and tore it neatly in two. Then again.

And again. Tiny pieces rained into her lap like white tears.

“I can’t do it again, Lex.” Trish’s bloodshot eyes darted toward Lex, then out the living room window. Her shaking hand picked at the fuzz on her sweatshirt.

“Do what again, Trish? I’ve never torn my ACL before.” Lex had hoped Trish’s arrival at her house meant she’d drive Lex back to work, but no way would she get into a car with Trish in her condition. “Did you call in sick to work? I’ve never seen you this hungover since college.”

“I’m not hungover.” Trish answered too quickly, too emphatically. She scrubbed at her cheeks, which only turned them from pale bags to pink bags.

“No, you were just too tired to pick me up for my MRI. Which was at 11:00 a.m.”

“I already said I was sorry.” Trish didn’t sound like it.

“You know what? You can make it up to me if you’ll help me the few days after my surgery.”

“That’s just it, Lex. I can’t do it again. This is just like the last time.”

“What last time? My sprained ankles?”

“No… you know… after the rape.”

Arctic winter flash-froze her heart. Lex had never spoken the word. Trish hadn’t either, until now. The ugly sound settled in the room like dirty snow on a roadway. “I don’t understand.”

“You were so depressed afterward.”

Lex didn’t clearly remember the days, even weeks after the attack. She remembered feeling like weights were on her legs, her arms. She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t speak about it.

Trish kept talking. “I understand the trauma for you and all that, but being with you drained me emotionally.”

Lex remembered Trish with her in those days – Trish as her constant, the only bright star in her blustery night. Trish’s smile, Trish’s touch on her arm, her shoulder, her head – the only touch Lex could tolerate at the time. Outside of her dad and brother, only Trish knew what had happened to her. She hadn’t even told Venus or Jenn, much less Grandma.

Lex swallowed. “I was counting on you to help me through the surgery.”

Trish shook her head, her eyes on the walls, the ceiling, out the window. “Kazuo says I’m giving too much of my time, that you’re being too clingy and demanding.”

“What?”

“I can’t do it again, Lex.”

Lex sat there, breathing hard and fast. And really, what could she say? Oh, okay. I promise not to be a basket case now that I’ve lost my knee and Wassamattayu in the same day.

Trish sighed into the silence, then turned and walked out the front door. She shut it firmly behind her.

Lex stared at it. She realized she hoped it would open again, and she looked away.

Her gaze fell on her bulky leg, braced in a black web of Velcro and metal. The physical pain didn’t come close to the aching in her heart every time she saw it. Her first major surgery.

She’d never thought it could happen to her. A few sprained ankles, a few torn muscles here and there. Nothing serious.

This… This sucked the life out of her soul. She felt hollow and fragile.

She never felt hollow and fragile. She was always strong and healthy.

Maybe she’d never be strong or healthy again.

Lex squeezed her eyes shut as a tear spilled out. She bit her tongue, hard. The pain helped her focus, kept her from exploding into a billion little fragments.