A Spaceman

Chapter 7--Grounded

I push my body through the pool, the water is cold on my hot skin and my arms burn. I quit counting laps a while ago. A long while ago by the feel of my arms. I just want to move. To be free, to have my brain go quiet as I can't breath my muscles ache so badly. But it's not happening.

Because I can't run. I'll never run again.

I pull myself up on the side, breathing heavily and thinking about the fact that I am probably sweating but there's no difference between my sweat and the water. No value difference, I'm wet either way.

I rest my chin against the cement of the pool edge and watch the other hospital patients. Some on crutches, some in wheel chairs. Some using walkers. I'm at the civilian hospital now, in the Capital. That made it easier for my mother to visit every single day like she thinks she needs to. Also I agreed because I'm medically discharged, so it only made sense to transfer to the hospital where I'll be getting the continuing care for the legless. It's comments like that that extended my stay because my mother made them put me on a suicide watch after I kept making stupid ass comments like that.

I'm not suicidal, though. That would be pointless. I wouldn't walk again if I die either. I won't be anything. I'm pretty depressed, though. The Space Forces are giving me a substantial stipend to live off of, since they took away my life they thought that was fair. And they set me up with someplace to live, a flat that I haven't been to because I don't care. 

I don't want to live in the city. I've never wanted to, it's full of smoke and people and sadness and it's too crowded. I've always wanted to live out there in the country where there's open space and the stars and everything. Ever since my mum took us kids out to the countryside, once. I think we stole the train tickets honestly, or jumped on somebody else's pass I don't know. but I think we did. and anyway we just rode the train as high up in the mountains as it went. and we sat there and we looked at the stars. 

Then of course we had to go home because our mum had to work. and I haven't been out to the forest like that since. Not just to exist. we get sent to do combat training, now and again. And some of the bases are more remote. But you're still on a base full of people. No I'd like to get away.

Except I can't now.

Because I don't have any legs, apparently I need to keep going back to the doctor. And I can't always wear artificial legs and I'm prone to infection and they're worried about my nubs of bone dying slowly and them needing to take more leg. And the artificial legs I do have won't go over rough terrain anyway and they need adjustment and tools and all manner of things and the remainders of my legs need salve and things.

I don't even know what I'll do with myself when I'm discharged. I don't have a job, I don't know how to get a job. I don't even know what jobs are or what I'd qualify for or what I can do since I have no legs. My back up careers of wild life technician or dog walker or raptor hunter or any of the non-military alternate careers I had picked out all involve wait for it...legs.

I sigh, still half in and half out of the water. It's only like this that I can pretend that I'm whole.

I lean there and watch people come in to the fitness room of the hospital. I call it a fitness room, it's really a rehabilitation place, only ex-military like me try to use it for actual fitness. Which doesn't work very well because we are ex military because some part of us got blown or cut off. so there's usually about half a man to keep fit.

A group of children come in with their nurses. Cancer ward, they all have pathetic little bald heads and pallid skin. the nurses lead them over to the hot tub. I wave at them, and they just stare at me. I sigh. I like kids, I like talking to them. Before, when I had legs, I was in this program thing where we'd go visit all the little Project 10s. They were always so thrilled when they saw the stars on your lapel and the slick sleeves, then the prop and wings and little spaceship insignia on the chest, an actual pilot, an actual Spaceman. They'd been so thrilled. I think it was my favorite part of being a pilot, the way their little eyes would light up when they saw me come in. so tall and strong, I could lift two of them on back. they loved it, especially the little ones, ask me all sorts of questions. I'd just sit and talk with them for hours. Half of them didn't have dads or mums or if they had they'd died, so I was the most they had of a grown up to sit and talk with them.