Chapter 3: Higher, Further, Flamingo

"Tomorrow's Flamingo Day, and I think we should record some clips of it for some Amputeam Instagram stories," Josiah said.

"Flamingo Day?" Bucky and Josiah had been on the team for the same length of time, yet he'd never heard of such a day.

"We're gonna see who can stand on one foot the longest."

"Oh, I see. I'm assuming Lemar and I aren't in the running?"

"You can participate if you want, but I'm afraid you'd probably embarrass yourself," Josiah said matter-of-factly. "We monopeds have a bit more practice."

"I think I'll leave you guys to it. I'll film."

"Perfect."

"But I think we should hype it up."

"Hype it up how?"

"Let's make a game of it. Throw up an ask box and ask people who they think is going to win."

"Is there a reward?"

"Nah, it's just for the hell of it."

"Do you think people will do it just for the hell of it?"

"Only one way to find out."

~0~

Steve met Monica, Maria, and Steve Danvers in the park in Queens one Friday in April. He'd been invited to celebrate what would have been Carol's twenty-third birthday. Parker and Bucky had been invited too, but the former was still at MIT and the latter had some super important soccer thing going on all afternoon. He'd told Steve it was called "Flamingo Day," but Steve still couldn't tell if he'd misheard him or not.

He expected a somewhat somber environment, but when he sat down at the picnic table in the opposite corner as Monica, he saw only smiles. "Hey Steve," Steve greeted. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for having me. I can imagine today is probably harder than most, especially for you all."

"We're trying to make the best of it," Maria said with a shrug. Steve could see the heartache behind her eyes.

"How have you been these past few months?" he asked the group, though he was mostly curious about Monica.

"Pretty good, all things considered," Monica replied. "You? How are things post-transplant?"

"Better than I ever imagined they could be."

They were happy for him, he could tell. But he could also see jealousy, the barest hint of it. In a perfect world, Carol would be post-transplant too, and right here with them. Instead, Steve only served as a reminder of what she would never have.

"How did she like to spend her birthdays?" he asked. The question had gnawed at him since the first birthday without her, but he'd never gotten around to asking someone who might know until now.

Steve laughed. "From age five to twelve it was always go-karting or laser tag. Whichever of those two I didn't do for my birthday two months before, because she could never do the same thing as me. That would be copycatting."

Everyone at the table erupted into laughter. Maria continued, "For her sixteenth…just a few months before she got sick…I convinced her to do karaoke with me."

"Could she sing?"

"Hell no. Carol had many talents, but that was not one of them."

Over on the playground, an overly rambunctious game of tag resulted in a kid running face-first into a pole. Fortunately, he got right back up and could at least walk straight, though the tears began not long after and his mom took him to sit down. At the commotion, Maria turned around, and beside the strap of her tank top Steve could clearly make out a bold tattoo that read, "Higher, Further, Faster."

"What does your tattoo mean?" he asked.

Her grin was somehow both mischievous and melancholy all at the same time. "It's something Carol and I used to say."

"About what?"

"Track and field."

Once again, Steve was gutted by the fact that he'd only gotten to know Carol over eight months. That wasn't enough time to learn everything important about somebody. Not once had she mentioned track and field. "Was that something you guys did together?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," Maria said fondly. "High jump, long jump, and sprints. Those were her specialties."

"Higher, further, faster," Steve echoed.

"Exactly. Always shooting for more, even when she was already the best athlete on our team. She was coach Lawson's prized pupil."

"She's been able to outrun me since she was twelve," Steve sighed. "God, I was such a sore loser every time she beat me."

Monica snickered. "Yes, you were."

"She used to beg me to switch siblings with her," Maria said.

"Everyone knows that little sisters are better than big brothers," Monica teased. Steve Danvers swatted her upside the head.

"Where do only children fall on this spectrum?" Steve asked.

"You're in your own category," Maria huffed. "You've never known the frustration of having to share everything, or worrying about your leftovers getting eaten, or fighting over who gets which side of the double bed in hotel rooms."

"Or only getting hand-me-down clothes," Monica added.

"Or being referred to as, 'Carol's brother,' even though you're older than her," Steve said.

"Point taken."

"I agree little sisters are better," Steve said. "Even though I've never had a big brother, only been one, I can't imagine anything better than a little sister."

Monica elbowed Maria. "See? He agrees."

"He agrees with me. I said it first. Don't be a brat."

He watched Steve carefully during the Rambeaus' little scuffle. The expression of, "I used to be like that with my sister, and I miss it" was plain as day on his face. "Tell me more about your track and field days," he cut in. "Do you have any pictures?"

"I have a whole album," Maria announced proudly. "Carol's action shots always turned out way better than mine. I'm one of those people with horrible focus face, but she somehow managed to look gorgeous even while flinging herself around."

"You always look constipated," Monica said.

"Shut up, so do you."

"That's only because I am sometimes," she countered. Steve could relate to that one hundred percent. Maria stood up and moved over to sit beside Steve. She began scrolling through pictures from track meets. Steve immediately noticed she and Carol stood side by side in every team photo. The only ones where they were apart were those taken mid-event. He'd seen some impressive action shots of Bucky before, but nothing quite compared to seeing Carol flung backwards over a pole five feet above the ground. Vaguely, he understood what high jump was, but he'd never really seen it before. It looked hard.

"Wow. That's amazing. Do you still jump?" he asked Maria.

She shook her head. "After Carol died, my higher, further, faster kinda nosedived into lower, shorter, slower. It just lost its magic."

"Understandable." He tried to imagine watching soccer without Bucky, and it sounded like a wretched experience.

"Tell him what you took up instead," Monica urged.

"Oh, yeah. I didn't quit sports entirely, just changed gears. Senior year I played volleyball instead."

"That's great."

"Monica runs, though. But she does distance. And she's too scared to try high jump."

"I don't want to bash my face in."

"That's what the mat is for."

She crossed her arms. "I could still break my neck."

"I know; it's a legitimate fear. I'm just glad you're doing something you love."

"Thank you."

Steve couldn't help but chuckle. He was so glad he'd found these amazing people. Not only did they bring him closer to Carol and show his aspects of her life that he'd never had the opportunity to see, they reminded him a lot of his own friends in their genuine appreciation of each other masked by a thick layer of lighthearted teasing. Steve considered them part of the 'Avengers' as much as he did Carol.

~0~

Bucky ended up spending an entire half an hour on Friday tallying all the responses to their Flamingo Day not-actually-a-betting-pool, because there were actually a lot of people willing to do it just for the hell of it. John Walker was the clear frontrunner, with Pinky coming in second. He figured it was more of a popularity contest than an actual assessment of their balance, but the following had spoken. John was elated to hear this news, but it provided every other player that much more motivation to outlast him. First things first: Bucky and Josiah filmed a brief video introducing Flamingo Day for anyone who missed the brief text explanation that had accompanied the ask box yesterday.

"Good morning!" Josiah said gleefully. Unless he was using his crutches, he always held the camera when they filmed anything selfie-style so Bucky could have a hand free. Bucky flashed a smile. "Amputeam here, and today is a very special training day for us."

Bucky took over from there. "It's Flamingo Day. Which means, Lemar and I get to sit back and chill while all of our crutch-using teammates see who can balance the longest on one flesh-and-blood foot."

Coach Lamberg's voice shouted from across the field, "Legs off, boys! Let's go!"

"That's our cue," Josiah said. "Bucky will be providing the play-by-play, so stay tuned!" Josiah passed his phone to Bucky and he kept the camera running just long enough to catch Josiah shouting, "Walker, you're going down!"

Bucky stopped recording and quickly uploaded the video to their story. He and Lemar took their seats on the sidelines and prepared to enjoy the show. Before they began, Bucky took a picture of the dozen odd prosthetic legs scattered on the turf beside him and posted it with the caption #FlamingoDay. Then he recorded his teammates trekking out to the field to line up as Lamberg explained the rules.

"The world record for standing on one foot is seventy-six hours and forty minutes," he began. "However, I would like to go home at the end of the day, as I'm sure most of you do as well, so after the first ten minutes, I'm going to ask Bucky and Lemar to help me make things interesting." He hefted a large bucket full of tennis balls.

"This'll be fun," Lemar said with a slightly malicious glint in his eye.

"I can't wait," Bucky added. He kept the video going as Coach placed his whistle between his teeth. The shrill sound rang out, and a dozen pairs of crutches hit the ground all at once. Flamingo Day had begun.

It was…underwhelming, actually. These men were so accustomed to balancing on one foot that they wobbled only as much as the average person standing on two feet. "I wish we'd made them dress up in pink, since it's Flamingo Day," Lemar muttered to Bucky.

"That definitely would have made this more entertaining."

Bucky looked longingly at the bucket of tennis balls. He walked up to Coach and asked if he would be willing to record when things 'got interesting' so that Bucky could throw. Lamberg enthusiastically agreed. On his way back to the bench, Bucky checked the time once again. Still six more minutes to go.

"Pinky, was that a wobble I saw?" Robert taunted.

"Nuh-uh!" he insisted.

"Coach, I don't think anybody's gonna drop!" Lemar called. "When can we make things interesting?"

"Ten minutes! It's Flamingo Day tradition."

"Hey Coach! Will we get a turn to throw things at the goalies?" Josiah asked.

"You kick things at us all the time!" Bucky reminded them.

"Yeah, it's literally our job to catch what you throw!" Lemar shouted.

"You're right, you're right."

"Are ten minutes up yet?" Jerome asked.

"Four to go!" Lamberg said.

Bucky began bouncing his knee in anticipation. He had fun every day at soccer practice, but this would definitely be more enjoyable than an average day of drills and workouts. Based on his rapt attention, Lemar probably felt the same. Those last minutes felt like the longest of his life. When Coach finally announced time, Bucky and Lemar both leapt to their feet in an instant and dashed towards the bucket. Bucky handed Coach his phone to record and, alongside Lemar, carried the bucket of tennis balls to a spot several yards away from the center of the line of players.

"Alright," Lamberg announced. "One rule: no crotch shots! Everything else is fair game!"

"You got it, Coach!" Lemar shouted. He grabbed a ball and lobbed it right at Walker's head. It missed, but made Walker flinch just enough that he wobbled a bit. Lemar's next shot hit him in the shoulder and took him down.

"Looking strong, John!" Bucky teased.

"Shut up, Barnes!" He grabbed his crutches and stood up. "Coach, now that I'm out, do I get to throw too?"

Lamberg shrugged. "I don't see why not."

John eagerly joined Bucky and Lemar by the bucket of tennis balls, keeping his balance with one crutch so he could throw with his other arm. Bucky targeted Josiah, naturally. His first throw hit him in the chest, but Josiah didn't so much as wiggle. He just took it.

"You throw like a girl," he remarked.

"Where's the insult in that?" Bucky questioned. "Don't be sexist." He threw another ball which brushed against Josiah's upper arm.

"Fine! You throw like a two-armed person!"

"Now you've crossed the line," Bucky growled. His third shot glanced against Josiah's head.

"Share the love, Bucky," Coach prompted. "This is supposed to be a fair fight!"

He threw one at Pinky, which knocked him down like a bowling pin, then one at Jacques, then Hector and Jerome. None of those three lost their balance. Bucky was impressed. Lemar took down Robert and Jonathan while Walker targeted Dino and Sam. By the time they ran out of tennis balls, only Josiah and Jack were still standing. They looked at each other with grim determination. Josiah cracked his knuckles menacingly.

"Now pistol squat until you drop!" Coach shouted.

"What?!" Josiah and Jack asked incredulously.

"Flamingo Day tradition," Coach explained. "The last two standing have to do pistol squats to break the tie."

Jack crossed his arms. "I don't remember this tradition from previous years."

"It's a new tradition!" Coach smiled and offered them a thumbs-up. "Get going, the Amputeam followers are gonna want to see this."

"But Jack has less residual limb than I do!" Josiah protested. "Isn't that an unfair advantage?"

"Not by my rules. Now get going!"

"Come on, guys!" the rest of the team urged. "We don't have all day."

"You shut up. Nobody's making you do pistol squats," Josiah grumbled.

"Do you want to win or not? Whoever does more before they drop wins."

Josiah and Jack both got going. They turned to face each other and moved with exhausted but determined fervor. Bucky didn't even know who he was rooting for. He didn't want Josiah to get a big head over his victory, but at the same time, he was newer to the team than Jack and it would be nice to see the rookie take the crown.

As both competitors' muscles began to quiver, the other players chose sides and started cheering their favorite on. Jack and Josiah had about equally sized fan bases. Bucky ultimately added his voice to those rooting for Josiah. Both of them got stuck at the bottom of a squat, muscles unable to carry them back to standing, but Coach ruled that Jack's butt hit the ground first. Josiah lay flat on his back, but pumped his fist into the air in victory.

Bucky walked over and offered his arm to help Josiah to his foot, then he handed him his crutches. "Thanks," Josiah said. "How was that?"

"That was awesome. I've always wanted to throw things at you, but this was the first time I've been asked to do so."

"Asshole."

"Tell me you wouldn't jump on an opportunity to throw something at Walker."

"Not right now. I don't think I'll be able to jump for days."

Bucky clapped him on the back. "I'm sure you're exaggerating."

"Hey Coach!" Josiah called. "Do the goalies have a Flamingo Day equivalent?"

"We went over this," Lemar told him. "You already get to throw things at us."

"Yeah, but don't you guys want to face off against each other?"

"Not really. We're not really competitors, we're complements," Bucky explained. Lemar stepped up beside him and laid his stump on the remains of Bucky's left shoulder.

"I'm left, he's right," Lemar added.

"Oh, come on. You guys have never wanted to arm wrestle or something?"

"We can't, you idiot. Remember the World Cup?" Someone had proposed pitting the two goalies against each other in the arm wrestling tournament that had ensued, but they quickly realized that it would be impossible since their arms were opposites.

"What about thumb wrestling?"

"Same problem," Lemar said.

"Oh damn, you're right."

Bucky rolled his eyes. This team might be full of idiots, but they were his idiots. Every day he spent with them, Bucky was again blown away by how amazing it was that he could consider himself a part of this incredible group.

Flamingo Day is not a real thing, as far as I know. I just made it up. But as you can imagine, many lower limb amputees are very good at standing on one foot.