Machine Man (serial)

I dipped in and out of consciousness like I was floating down a warm, swift-flowing river. Lola and Angelica took me out of my legs and I became aware of this from a distance, as if receiving telegrams.

“I warned you,” said Angelica.

“I know,” said Lola.

“This is exactly like that transtibial.”

“It’s not.”

“How is it not?”

“He loves me. You don’t know what he’s done, Angelica. He risked his life.”

“You’re the first person to treat him like a human since he lost a limb. Of course he loves you. They all love you, at first.”

“Please. Let’s not get into this.”

I opened my eyes, because there was a strange tugging sensation on my arm. Angelica was sewing up my skin with surgical thread. That answered that question.

Lola stroked my hair. “It’s okay, Charlie.” I was lying in her lap. “She’s fixing you.”

I closed my eyes.

“What’s wrong with this guy,” Angelica said, “I doubt I can fix.”

“Stop it.”

“The only reason he’s not in a psychiatric ward is the company stepped in. He’s a self-injurer.”

“It’s not like that. You don’t understand Charlie.”

“Do you? I mean it, Lola. These guys, these damaged guys, none of them turn out like you think. This thing you have, this weird attraction for men without all their parts, it’s not good for you.”

“You,” said Lola, “like guys with good arms. Right? Well, you’re attracted to clumps of muscle fiber. Isn’t that weird? Liking a guy because of his bone structure, the color of his eyes: aren’t those weird things? I love Charlie. I love him. And maybe that’s weird. But it’s all weird. That’s what I think, Angelica. This whole process, trying to find a person who fits you, who makes you feel right, it’s weird. Why does it work sometimes? Why not other times? What makes a guy want to spend time with me? Why does how he smells, the sound of his voice, the shape of his face, make any difference to how I feel about him? I don’t know. I don’t know how this works. I just know that sometimes it does. And when that happens, weird doesn’t matter. All that matters is that it works.”

A thin pain penetrated my bubble world. I said: Urk.

“Be careful with him.”

“It’s a scratch,” said Angelica. “The bullet barely nicked him.” But she sounded mollified. “I’m being gentle.”

“Thank you,” said Lola.

108.