It was barely eight when he was harnessed and roped in. He liked this time of day when the shadows moved across the rocks like a sundial. His climb would be moderate in difficulty, but the steep, pocketed volcanic rock would be a good first real-world test of the new foot he was developing specifically for climbing.
His newest design was narrow, with a sole that contracted and pressed outward to save energy. The elastic cord on the back allowed the ankle joint to extend when force was applied, then snapped back into position when the foot was lifted.
It’d been a game of trial and error to get it right, which is why he’d test it himself before he had anyone else try it.
When he reached a height of about fifteen feet, he clipped in and stretched for the next hold. One of the main challenges in sports was the lack of sensory feedback coming from the bottom of both feet. He felt the pressure at the sight of his amputation, but he couldn’t feel the rock under his right foot like he could his left.
Like he could feel Paige’s body under his hands. Her warm lips under his. Shit. He used his legs to push himself up to the next handhold. What was so different about Paige that he couldn’t resist her, that he felt so out of control around her and couldn’t stop thinking about her? She was soft and generous, strong and cautious. He was drawn to her in a way he didn’t even understand. But there was a connection there and he was sure she felt it.
The climb grew more challenging, and he forced himself to focus on the rock face so he didn’t get careless. He’d been pushing himself hard for forty-five minutes, his arms and shoulders were on fire, reminding him to use his legs more.
He paused before a particularly difficult overhang to catch his breath and drink some water. Sweat dripped from his face and neck, the bandana around his forehead long since soaked as the late-morning sun baked him like it baked the dark gray rock he clung to.
He pushed on, estimating thirty minutes to the top, then a fast rappel down. He thought of taking Casey climbing. Not here, but maybe at Evolution. She had an adventurous little spirit, and it would give her an activity in which she’d hopefully start seeing her prosthesis as an advantage. Maybe he’d wait until he’d made her a new one. He sighed, smiled, and gave in to the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about either of them. There were way worse things to think about.
Tired and sore, he stopped by the store two hours later on his way home. He needed essentials: bread, milk, toilet paper, and a new cell charger. He was halfway to electronics when his phone rang.
“What’s up, tiny brother?”
It was Stephen. They’d always called him that instead of little brother just because it pissed him off. “Not much. What’s up with you?”
“Same. At Mom’s for Sunday lunch. Hang on, Matt’s here. We’ll step outside and I’ll put you on speaker.”
The background noise lowered by a few hundred decibels. “Hey, man,” Matt said. “Question. Did you have Mr. Nelson for biology in high school?”
“I don’t remember. Doesn’t sound familiar,” JT said. “Why?”
“Because Annie starts high school in a few weeks,” Stephen explained. “Matt’s running background checks on every teacher.”
“I am not. I’m just curious,” Matt grumbled.
“Right, well, Mitchell will be in kindergarten and I pray the school is prepared for this. Not since you ran the halls of Saint Sebastian has there been more energy waiting to explode.”
JT laughed. He liked picturing his brother getting run down by a preschooler. Kindergarten also made him think of Casey, and he wondered what kind of school she’d be going to. “I wasn’t that bad. And how would you know, anyway? You were at the high school.”
“Word gets around,” Stephen said.
“Lucky for you. Kindergarten is innocent,” Matt grumbled again. “The thought of Annie walking the halls with eighteen-year-old men makes me want to hit something.”
“That’s obvious.” Stephen was clearly amused.
They talked a bit more, catching up on all the kids first, then his siblings. JT listened and laughed at the growing sound of chaos as more family members poured outside and chimed in on their conversation. He missed his family. The anger and helplessness after losing his leg had driven him to put space between them, but the gap that remained was his own guilt. Knowing in his heart that he wasn’t the man his brothers were, and the disappointment in his entire family’s eyes if they knew the truth.
He found the charger he needed and picked up some batteries, then found himself on the toy aisle. Lots of action figures. Without thinking, he got to the end and turned up another aisle instead of heading to the checkout.
“What do five-year-old girls like?” he blurted.
“What?” his brothers asked in unison.
“If I was going to buy a present for a five-year-old girl, what would I get?”
“Why would you be doing that?” Matt asked.