Jake was sitting on his bed with his laptop in front of him on an adjustable tray so that he could modify the angle of the computer however necessary. He was working on an assignment for the engineering degree had had recently started. To his own surprise he found that he enjoyed studying. School had been a bad experience that he didn't care to remember, but now he was studying weapons design and robotics and found that it was actually fun and easy for him.
Jake shifted himself into a different position. However he sat or lay today, he just couldn't get comfortable. Pain-wise it had been a bad day. His back had been sore yesterday already so he had opted to sleep on his back for a change. It hadn't helped and this morning when he had woken up the pain had been worse. He checked the log he kept of the pain medication he had taken over the last months. March had actually been a good month, certainly better than February. On many days he had only taken a comparatively mild oral painkiller and anti-inflammatory like diclofenac, only on three occasions had he taken something stronger and until today he hadn't had the need for an injection. He checked the time, it was a quarter past five.
He put the computer aside and slid off the bed into his chair. He moved slower and more deliberate than was normal for him now, trying to avoid any sudden movements that may send his muscles into spasm or pinch a nerve. He went to the kitchen and put one of the ready-made meals he had delivered weekly into the microwave. He believed in good food and balanced nutrition, so the diet program and the added supplements he had chosen had become one of his largest monthly expenses, but it was worth it.
He had been to the gym for his daily swim, but he had skipped the weights today to not add additional strain to his back. He figured that had been the cause of the problem. He had overdone the weights two days ago and now he needed to just take it easy for a bit.
He took the food and a bottle of water back to the bedroom. He went to the bathroom and catheterized himself then changed into the leggings he wore to sleep in. He left the T-shirt on he was wearing, one of his Marine Corps shirts with the crest on the front.
Before he got back onto his bed he made sure he had everything he needed within reach so he wouldn't have to get up again for the rest of the day. He moved over, sitting up against the headboard and pulled the duvet over his legs then he injected a dose of meperidine into his deltoid and noted it in his log. One injection this month compared to four in February was definitely an improvement as well.
He ate his food then put the tray with the empty container on the far side of the bed. The injection hadn't taken effect yet and he bent forward stretching, trying to ease the stabbing pain in his back. On days like this he wished he had a bar suspended over his bed like he had had in hospital on which he could have pulled himself up to take the pressure of his spine entirely.
His cell phone rang. Jake checked the display, it was JJ. They hadn't spoken in a while. Jake answered. "Hi JJ." He knew JJ would hear the strain in his voice and see it on his face.
"Hi Jake, bad day?"
"Yes." Jake sighed.
"Physically or emotionally?"
"Physical, but it's the first really bad one this month so overall I'm still getting better."
"I'm glad to hear. Did you take anything?"
"Yeah, I just gave in and injected meperidine."
"And how are you doing otherwise?"
"Actually holding up pretty well. The studying helps. It's more interesting and rewarding than I thought."
"Do you have a study group to meet with now?"
"Yes, but so far we've only met once online. So nobody knows yet…"
"Are you planning to meet in person?"
"Next Wednesday actually. It's kind of a social meeting to get to know each other."
"You gonna tell them before?"
"No, I don't think I will."
"Are you scared of the meeting?"
"I think scared it too strong a word, more like apprehensive."
"Well, let me know how it goes."
"Any words of advice?"
"If you had to characterize yourself in three words, what would they be?"
"Smart, fit, paralyzed."
"And what is number four?"
"Handsome" Jake chuckled.
"Okay, now substitute paralyzed for handsome. That's my advice—don't identify yourself with your disability. When you go and meet with your study group, that's who you are: Jake Sully, smart, fit and handsome. The fact that you are in a wheelchair is just secondary, like the clothes you wear. And I know it may not feel like that for you on the inside, but if you can portray it on the outside then people will find it easier to relate to you and you in turn will find it easier to relate to them. But if they are uncomfortable, don't just ignore it either. Maybe just give them the facts upfront."
"Okay. I'll give it a try."
"You sound a bit better now. Has the painkiller kicked in?"
"Yes."
"Okay, get some sleep then."
"I will, in a while."
"Call me after the meeting with your study group."
"Will do. Cheers JJ and thanks for the call."
Jake put the phone away and got the laptop back. He checked his email. In January when he had opened his email again for the first time since his injury he had simply deleted his entire mailbox. All the unread mail he had received as well as all the messages he had kept. Then he had felt the need to erase his past with this symbolical act. He hadn't even checked who the messages had been from. Today he had only one new message. It was from Si, one of his former recon squad mates, the one that he had been closest to. As far as he knew they were still deployed in Venezuela, but he didn't really want to know. He felt like he had let his squad down. That and all the other painful memories and emotions attached to his last mission made him hesitant to open the message. He saw that it had an attachment. Curiosity won out and he opened the mail.
Hi Jake,
we hear very little news about you, only that you are
out of hospital and out of the Marine Corps as well. That
stinks, why couldn't they keep you on and find you
a nice cozy desk job somewhere if necessary?
How are you holding up and how are you spending your time anyway?
Nothing much I can tell you about the job, except that
we're all still in one piece and still deployed in V where
nothing much is happening, so in other words – it's boring with a capital B.
Jeff and Al send their regards, too.
Jeff found this clip on his phone the other day. We thought you might like it.
Take care and drop us a line when you feel like it.
Si
Jake opened the attachment. It was a video clip of himself and Si playing indoor beach volleyball against two other Marines whose names he couldn't remember. He watched himself play—running on the loose sand, jumping for blocks, diving for the ball, serving, setting and attacking and all the while he and Si were cheering each other on and in the background he heard Jeff and Alan's commentary from the sideline.
As he watched, Jake remembered the feeling of the soft, warm sand beneath his bare feet, felt himself jumping up in the air for the particularly well placed spike that had won them the match. Jake swallowed hard and his eyes were starting to brim and, like so often in the last couple of months, tears were making tracks down his face. He replayed the clip and watched it again. The feeling of constriction in his chest increased and eventually, when Jake couldn't contain it any longer he let out a long, anguished wail. He sobbed and cried and kept replaying the video until the tears finally dried up and he could watch it with a certain amount of detachment—it was like he was watching someone else. This was another Jake, like another twin brother who was elsewhere; hidden behind a wall of grief and pain, some other twin he had lost contact with.
He hit reply, but he couldn't find the words to write back to Si. He discarded the answer, closed the email and shut down the laptop. Then he darkened the room and rolled over onto his stomach, but sleep wouldn't come.