When
Kenny was 6 years old his parents used to make him walk to and from school. They
said it was to help him establish trust in their eyes. Kenny knew it was
because he was fat and they thought it would help him lose weight.
A
one way trip was about a mile long. Overall, it was fine and Kenny didn’t mind
it, even if he did mind his parent’s hidden agenda. At the close of the journey
to school, every morning Kenny would traverse the baseball diamond and
surrounding field. And every morning the dew from the grass would coat his
discount store sneakers in a thick layer of moisture. Because the baseball
field was on school property, naturally as Kenny neared this space many school
age children could be seen on foot converging towards the building.
One
day in particular had stood out in Kenny’s mind for years. A friend, Adrian
hustled up to Kenny’s side as he strolled through the dewy grass. “Kenny, we
need another kid for baseball today after school you in?”
Kenny’s
delight at the thought of taking in an activity with friends overruled his
critical thinking skills for a moment. “Oh heck ya man!”
“Great,
we need a pitcher. You can use my glove.” Adrian smiled and trotted off ahead,
Kenny could hear him telling some of the other kids heading towards the school,
“Kenny’s gonna pitch for us today…”
*
* *
“I
never went to the game,” Kenny shook his head. The memory was there with him,
as though it were still happening. A few key moments, on repeat in his brain
for 30 some years of his life.
“So
what happened at the game?” the man on the other side of Kenny’s story was a
stern, but wise looking chap dressed in a white lab coat. He had circular
glasses and distinguished grey hair combed over to one side.
“That’s
just it Doctor Blevins, I never went.”
“Why
not?”
“I couldn’t
just come out and tell those kids I had a disability, they would’ve roasted me.”
Blevins
removed a stethoscope from Kenny’s bare chest. “So what did you do?”
“I
lied”, Kenny admitted, “I told them I forgot. They never invited me to another
game again. And I went on never telling anyone about my disability. Doc, I hope
you understand what this prosthetic means to me. This is not just a chance to
at increased efficacy. This is a chance to become whole, to become normal.”
“Alright
Kenny, first things first, you’re physically in great condition. Despite the
story you just told me, that childhood weight obviously dropped off at some
point. Regarding the surgery you are cleared. But I want you to understand something…”
Kenny
was putting his shirt back on but paused to hear Dr. Blevins.
“…Getting
this surgery, receiving this prosthetic isn’t going to make you normal.”
Shirt
now on, confusion flashed in Kenny’s eyes, even as the doctor began to
elaborate.
“This
prosthetic is a trade off. You will gain functionality in your hand. So much so
it will be above and beyond that of an average person. However, you will also
gain the unwanted attention of many who cannot afford the investment of an Astir
Industries product.”
“C’mon
doc, it’s like driving a Mercedes. It’s a status symbol.”
“Perhaps,
but unlike your current physical condition, you cannot hide this product in a
garage, or lie to those around you about its existence. It will be in plain
sight, 24 hours a day, yada yada yada.”
“Lie
about it?” Kenny laughed loudly as he hopped from the examination table. “Dr.
Blevins I’m going to proudly show it to the world.”
Dr.
Blevins nodded. “Please see Marjorie on your way out about scheduling a surgery
date.”
*
* *
On
the way home Kenny rode the subway alone, smiling stupidly at the appointment
reminder he had received from the Blevin’s assistant. Two weeks.
In
two weeks he would be happy. In 14 days he would be a man. In 336 hours he
would be strong. In 20,160 minutes he would be independent.
When
Kenny wasn’t staring at the appointment card he was fumbling through the pamphlets
he was given. One of which was beige and green tri-fold that was titled ‘Astir Industries: Life perfected’ and a
second black and white booklet had a cover that read ‘Upgrade: Dealing with the Physical and Psychological Changes that
perfection brings’.
Those
sharing the car with Kenny all eyeballed the literature. With silent judgment,
they scanned Kenny. They saw him in his drab jeans, and well worn t-shirt. To
them, he cast a distinctly sub-average visage. Collectively, their eyes seemed
to say; what’s so special about him.
One
woman, a white-haired beast in a wheelchair, whispered at Kenny, “Fuckin’
elitist.” Kenny was so caught up in himself he didn’t notice. He just continued
to smile that stupid smile.
*
* *
Kenny
arrived home, his wife of 12 years greeted him. He was ecstatic when he told
her the news. She, less so.
“You
were approved? I didn’t think they’d clear you.”
“What
is that supposed to mean Claire?”
“I
just thought the evaluation…so few actually make it.”
“Nah,
Dr. Blevins said that’s a thing of the past now Astir wants to be freer to open
up upgrades to the general populace.”
“Provided
they can pay for it?” Claire responded.
“Are
you mad?” Before Claire could answer, Kenny blurted an accusation, “No you’re
jealous! Oh my God!” Kenny wanted to laugh, but he suddenly felt so sad. He had
come home to share his great news, and had been met with defiance.
“Jealous!
No, my no. I am happy for you but…”
“But
what?” Kenny heard his voice rising, but didn’t fight it. He was hurt and
wanted to be heard, and also he wanted to hear what was on Claire’s mind. What
she really thought.
“It’s
so much money.”
“You’re
kidding me? That’s what you are worried about? Baby, I have scrimped and saved--”
“We
have saved.” Claire tried to interject, but her protest was overtaken by Kenny’s
sheer volume.
Kenny
continued to yell, “--and gone without for years in the hopes that I would be
able to do this one day.”
“What
if we have an emergency? What if we need our nest egg?”
Kenny
sighed, but continued his tirade, this time adopting a different approach, “You
don’t understand what it’s like to live like this.”
“What
if I want more than this? Look around you! Do you think this rinky-dink
apartment and off the rack clothes are what I’ve dreamt about all these years?
Why do you get what I want and I get nothing?”
Kenny
paused as tears welled in Claire’s eyes, but only for a moment. “Because what
you want is material, and what I want is so much more than that.”
Claire
stormed off, taking refuge in their tiny bathroom.
The
couple didn’t speak until late that night. They angled themselves around the
small apartment, for fear they’d both turn its coziness into a setting for
close quarters combat.
At
bedtime they both blurted out the same thing, just a beat or two from being
completely in unison: “I’m sorry.”
“Go
ahead,” Kenny offered, “I was so rough on you today. You go first.”
“OK
I have to admit, I never thought they’d approve you. That’s why I agreed to you
having the surgery.”
Kenny
nodded; he knew it deep down but hated to hear her say it, at the same time he
needed to hear her say it aloud. “And I am being selfish with our money.”
Kenny
tried to continue but was cut off when Claire pressed a finger over his lips. “But
I know how much this means to you, even if I don’t understand all of what it
means to you. Just promise me you won’t freak out. Ya know, afterwards.”
“I
promise.” Kenny looked at Claire, her warm face, gentle eyes and inviting lips.
He could tell she’d been crying for the better part of the afternoon. “I’m so
sorry I yelled at you. I love you. ” He kissed her more times than they could
count.
