Pool_1

>> Terms Fulfilled <<

Work had called and Macaluso had promised Shannon to finish his story. But you know how busy folks are. It would have to wait. It wasn't the kind of telling that would wedge in between back to back chores and appointments. Speaking of which... "Dr. Macaluso, I don't know what I'm going to do," she began. Elaine was a long time polio patient who came to the states at age ten, now being in her early thirties. The doctor had reconstructed her spine a long time ago with metal implants, straightened her withered flail legs, stabilizing certain joints so that, even absent muscle power, they could self lock and assist standing. In combination, these things enabled her braced crutch walking which allowed her to attain, then sustain, an independent life style. Her arms, powerful like a strong man's legs, were everything to her. Elaine could throw a folded wheelchair as if it were a discus. Holding forth her potent arm, "Look at this piece of shit," she was exasperated. The doctor accepted an unwieldy contraption which she thrust forward, he, almost falling over from the unanticipated weight. "Yow. What is this?" "You don't know?" "No. Give me a hint." "Those are my new braces which you prescribed!" The doctor was struck dumb. He picked through the device which seemed to be an aborted wind mill. His mind was racing through every nuance of his actual language in prescribing her braces. Is there any way at all that this thing could result? No. No way. But there it was. "Jimmy did this?"