“But…but how?” Josie stammered. “How could somebody get through security with a bomb?”
Detective Pullman shook his head. “We don’t know. We’re not yet certain that it is an explosive device. It has all the hallmarks of a homemade bomb, but it could be a hoax.”
“What could be a hoax?” Blade asked, entering the kitchen, quickly followed by Archie.
Detective Sykes jumped up from her chair. “Hey, Archie,” she said brightly. “I think it’s time to go wake up your granddad. He said he’d like to make pancakes for you this morning.” She took his hand. “I’ll walk you upstairs.”
Archie looked indignant at this comment. “I can walk upstairs by myself. I’m six years old now.”
The detective smiled and led him toward the door. “Well, maybe you can walk me up the stairs,” she said. “I’m a whole thirty years older than you, so I might need some help.”
“Okay, sure,” Archie said with a shrug of his slim shoulders. “I’m very good at helping old people.”
Josie heard Detective Sykes laugh as they started up the stairs, and Blade waited until they were out of earshot before speaking.
“What happened?” he asked, placing a hand on Josie’s shoulder. His touch was gentle.
“Officers found what looks like a bomb strapped beneath my chair,” she replied. “The building is on lockdown.” She put her head in her hands, leaning with her elbows on the table. “I could’ve been sitting in that chair in an hour.” Her eyes flashed up at the clock on the wall, and she grabbed her cell. “I should call Norman.”
“Don’t worry,” Detective Pullman said. “Officers are already on their way to his home to explain the situation.”
Josie imagined Norman sitting in his house, alone and scared, all day. If that bomb had gone off today, he would have been in the blast zone, too. She was fortunate to be surrounded by her family and two Wichita detectives giving her comfort and reassurance. Norman had no company inside his home, and his loneliness was apparent every time she paid a visit. He just wanted the trial to be over, but it had stalled as soon as it had begun. She knew that this delay would hit him hard.
“I’d like to go and see Norman today,” she said. “He’ll be running low on groceries, so I should take him some supplies.”
Detective Pullman looked apprehensive. “In light of the situation, I think it would be better to stay at the safe house today.”
Josie wouldn’t accept this. “I’m an attorney, and Norman is my client. It’s important that I make sure he knows exactly what’s going on and is advised accordingly.” She lifted her chin. “I will not become a prisoner in this house because of a coward who hides behind bombs and guns.”
She saw Blade smile widely. “Good for you. I’ll come along, too.”
“I figured you would.”
Their eyes lingered on each other just a little too long, and Josie felt a spark of old attraction catch. She and Blade used to have no secrets and were as close as two people could possibly be. She saw flashes of the man he used to be, yet he was very different now. Even though he seemed to have accepted the loss of his leg with grace and humility, he was touchy whenever she asked questions or offered assistance. She had reached a point of exasperation. Blade had run ten miles every evening since his arrival in Sedgwick, but he hadn’t once discussed the Invictus Games in depth with her. It was as though he didn’t want to let her into that part of his life. Maybe it was a deliberate ploy on his part. After all, they disagreed on so many things already. It made sense to keep their relationship simple.
“We can’t afford to be too complacent,” Detective Pullman said. “Before you go anywhere, our SUV must be thoroughly checked for devices.” He rose from his chair. “I’ll go check on it right now.”
The detective exited the kitchen via the door that led into the garage, and Josie was suddenly aware of the absolute silence between her and Blade, broken only by the tick of the clock on the wall. She decided to bite the bullet and try to build a bridge between them.
“Blade,” she said. “Can I ask you something?”
He looked apprehensive. “Sure.”
“How does it feel to have lost a limb?”
He seemed taken aback at the bluntness of the question, but Josie liked to straight-talk. It was part of her job, a long-established habit that she couldn’t break.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to pry. The conversation we had about Archie yesterday made me realize that we hardly know each other anymore.”
When Blade didn’t respond, she started to rise from her chair. “Forget I said anything.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I want you to feel comfortable enough to ask me anything.” He laughed. “But after what happened at the courthouse this morning, I figured you wanted to ask me something about bombs.”
She sat back down. “I can’t change my situation, so I don’t see any point in scaring myself with details about the damage bombs can inflict.” She glanced down at his leg. “You don’t talk about yourself or the past. It’s pretty obvious that we’re very different people, with totally different parenting styles.” She thought of Archie struggling to swim in a pool, his toes unable to reach the bottom, and she shuddered. “So I figured I should get to know the person you are now a little better.”
“Losing a limb is different for everyone,” he said. “But for me, it’s been both the best and worst experience of my life.” He looked out the window, staring into the distance. “Right after the amputation, the residual limb hurt like crazy, and I was angry all the time.” He stole a glance at her face. “But you know that already, because you were there.”
She nodded. “I was wondering how it feels now. Does it still hurt?”
He visibly relaxed. “The leg gets sore every now and again, but it’s not too bad. What really bothers me is when I get phantom limb pain. An amputee can often feel sensations in a limb that’s no longer there, and occasionally I get itches or aches where my leg used to be. It sounds crazy, but it happens.”
“I watched you run down the street last night,” she said. “You move so fast. How does it feel to run on a blade?”
His voice took on a faraway tone. “Imagine being locked in a tiny prison for five years and then having the door opened.” He took a slow, deep breath. “It feels like freedom. When I run, I’m whole again.”
She visualized him jogging, lithe and fluid. His movements were so elegant and graceful, and she found herself captivated when she caught sight of him running as she stood at her bedroom window.
“You make it look so easy,” she said.
“It took a lot of practice to get my balance and coordination right. I crashed to the ground more times than I care to admit, but once I mastered the technique, it was surprisingly simple.” He fell silent for a moment. “People look at me differently when I run. They can see I’m an athlete, and they don’t pity me.”
She was surprised. “Does anybody pity you?”
“Oh, sure they do,” he replied. “There are some people in my hometown who treat me like an invalid. My elderly neighbor once offered to walk me across the street, and the bag boys at the grocery store always ask if I need help to my car.” He shrugged. “I can’t change how other people see me, and I know they’re acting out of kindness, but it’s infuriating sometimes.”
Something in his voice concerned her. “Do you think I pity you?” she asked.
He looked her straight in the eye. “I don’t know. Do you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You sure about that?”
She cocked her head to the side, uncertain of what he was getting at. “Yes.”
“You’ve offered to help me out of a chair, carry my bags and walk me upstairs. You’ve also told me how important it is to protect my good leg,” he said, counting the incidents off on his fingers. “That sure feels like pity to me.”
“That’s different,” Josie protested. “I didn’t do those things because I pity you. I just wanted to support you.”
“But you don’t understand how it makes me feel, Josie,” Blade said, leaning in close. “I get why you want to help me, but it just reinforces the idea that I’m weaker than others. Even though most people assume they don’t judge me, there are times when everybody treats me differently, including you. I know that I’m strong and capable, but I have a hard time convincing others of the same thing.”
Josie’s face burned with indignation. Was she really as inconsiderate as he was alleging? Or was Blade being hypersensitive? After all, offering to help somebody out of a chair was pretty inoffensive, wasn’t it?
“So when people ask me how it feels to lose a limb,” Blade said, rising and walking to the coffeepot, “it’s an uncomfortable question to answer, because sometimes I have to call them out on their prejudices.”
“I think that’s a little unfair, Blade. I don’t see you as disabled.”
Blade filled his mug. “Okay.”
The way he said this one word infuriated her, as if he was patronizing her.
“This is ridiculous,” she said. “I’ve allowed you to act as my bodyguard. I see you as strong and capable.”
“Josie,” Blade said, leaning against the counter, arms folded. “I know you’re a good person and you mean well, but you have to trust me on this. You definitely don’t treat me the same way you treat everybody else. I’ve battled against prejudice for seven years, and I can spot it a mile off.”
Josie’s face burned hotter, and a defensive streak rushed through her. Blade was calling her out as narrow-minded, and he was wrong.
“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings by offering assistance when I thought you needed it,” she said, keeping her voice flat and smooth as if she were in court. “I’ll try to change if it helps.”
“It would.”
“Okay,” she said with a vigorous nod. She was bristling with annoyance. “I’m glad we got that cleared up.”
At that moment, Detective Pullman reentered the kitchen, rubbing his hands on an oily rag. Josie was so grateful for the distraction, preventing the need to continue her awkward and strained conversation with Blade.
“We’re all clear. I went over that car with a fine-tooth comb,” the detective said, sitting at the table. “I also received confirmation from the bomb squad that the device beneath your chair was a fake. Its purpose was to create fear rather than to harm you. This guy is toying with us.”
“Well, he won’t stop me from getting on with things today,” Josie said, rising to busy herself, opening cupboards to pull out boxes and cans that she could take to Norman’s house. “I’d like to leave soon.”
She felt Blade’s hand on her back and straightened up.
“Thanks for the chat,” he said. “It helped a lot.”
“Great,” she said tersely, twisting her body away from his. “I’m glad.”
She continued to rifle through the cupboards, trying to avoid his gaze. Their discussion might have helped Blade, but it had done no such thing for her. If anything, the yawning abyss that existed between them had grown even wider. She was already losing the affections of her son to his rough-and-tumble father, and now that same man was accusing her of being insensitive about his disability.
With the continual threats and danger already weighing heavily on her shoulders, Josie didn’t know if she had the strength to accept this new burden.
She wondered if she was about to reach her breaking point.
* * *
Blade narrowed his eyes in the dark, musty living room of Norman Francis. With the drapes closed, the only light entering the room was from a bulb overhead. The dinginess was depressing, and he found himself full of sympathy for this reclusive man who was confined to his home twenty-four hours a day. At least the room was warm, heated by an open fire in the hearth.
“I brought you some groceries,” Josie said, placing a bag on the floor between two threadbare sofas. “It’s not much, but it’ll see you through the week.”
“Thank you,” Norman said, bending down to take the bag in his left hand.
Josie sprang forward. “Let me help you with that,” she said. Then she stood up straight, glancing sideways at Blade. “Sorry—I’m sure you’ve got it covered.”
“You look tired, Josie,” Norman said. “Are you okay?”
Josie waved the question away with a flick of her wrist. “I’m just fine. I’m not sleeping well, but that’s understandable, right? I’m sure things will improve as I settle into the trial.”
“Why don’t you take a seat and relax,” Norman said, heading for the kitchen with the groceries. “I’ll make some hot, sweet tea. I think it’s just what we all need after the shock of this morning’s bomb scare.”
Blade sank into a chair next to a table on which stood a number of exquisitely carved wooden figurines. He noticed Josie choose the chair that was the farthest possible distance from his. She looked uncomfortable in his presence, and he guessed that their earlier discussion was the cause. But he had only spoken the words that needed to be said. If he and Josie were to have any kind of civil relationship, he had to be straight with her.
“This is really beautiful,” he said, picking up a figurine and focusing his attention on it. It was a horse with a rider on top, all carved from one single piece of wood. “Look at the detail. It’s incredible.”
“Norman usually sells them at craft fairs and shows,” Josie said. “But he hasn’t been able to attend them since being under house arrest, so he lives on almost nothing.”
Blade cast his eyes around the room. “He definitely doesn’t seem like a man with a lot of money to splash around.” His gaze came to rest on an open Bible on a fireside table. “But I guess he manages just fine.”
He watched Josie hook her hair behind her ears self-consciously. The awkwardness between them seemed to have grown to huge proportions. Not only had they clashed on the best way to parent their child, but also he had now challenged the way she treated his disability. It was hard to believe that they had once loved each other deeply. His physical attraction to her was still strong, but it would never be enough to sustain a happy relationship. He knew that.
“It’s nice to have company,” Norman said, entering the room, balancing a tray on one hand. Blade noticed Josie automatically shift in her chair as if wanting to take the tray from Norman’s grasp, but she stopped herself and watched him slide it onto the coffee table.
“Could one of you take a cup to the detective sitting in the car outside?” he asked. “Are you sure she doesn’t want to come in?”
“She says she’s happier in the car with her travel mug of coffee,” Josie said. “There are some workmen digging up the street, and there’s a lot of activity making her uneasy.”
Norman’s eyes flicked nervously to the window. “I see. I try not to take much notice of what goes on outside.”
“How are you holding up, Norm?” Josie asked. “I keep telling you that you look too thin. Why don’t you sit down?”
Norman remained standing, his anxiety evident in his posture. “I haven’t been eating much lately. I don’t do enough activity to work up an appetite. I mostly spend my days carving and watching TV.” He looked at the drape-covered window, which overlooked his backyard. “My fence blew down last week, so I had to go outside and secure it, but Janice saw me and yelled something. I didn’t catch the words, but she was mad, so I came back inside and left the fence on the lawn.”
Josie sighed. “Don’t let her bully you, Norman. She’s not supposed to have any contact with you until the trial is over. We could file a complaint.”
“No, don’t do that,” Norman said, a panicked look falling across his face. “It’ll probably just make her worse. She seems to really hate me.”
Josie leaned forward in her chair. “I know we’ve discussed this a thousand times before, but have you thought of any reason why Janice would lie about seeing you lead Lisa by the hand into your home?”
Norman shook his head while bending to pour three cups of tea. “I’ve been over it time and time again in my head, and I just can’t come up with an answer. I can only assume that she’s mistaken. Even Janice wouldn’t lie about something so terrible.”
Josie smiled. “That’s very generous of you, Norman, but the only conclusion I can come to regarding Janice’s witness statement is that she’s deliberately lying. She never saw you take Lisa inside your home because it simply didn’t happen.”
Blade took the cup that Norman offered him. “Have you always had a difficult relationship with your neighbor, Norman?”
“I’m afraid so,” the older man said, taking a seat next to Blade. “Her dogs bark all through the night, keeping me awake. I asked her to do something about it a few times, and she took offense. Her yard is real small, so I offered mine as a place where she could exercise the dogs, but she acted like she didn’t want to come anywhere near my house. She called me ‘creepy.’”
Josie let out a short, exasperated puff of breath as if she’d grown incensed by this type of bullying behavior.
Norman took a sip of tea. “I grew up being called names like ‘creepy’ and ‘weird’ by kids in school, so I’m kinda used to it, although it never stops hurting.” He turned to Blade. “I have a mild form of cerebral palsy, which you can probably see from my movements. When I was in fifth grade, I decided I’d try to hide my disability by wearing clothes that cover most of my body.” He gave a strangled laugh. “But the large sweaters and pants I wore just gave people something else to laugh at.”
“Does Janice know that you were born with cerebral palsy?” Blade asked.
“No,” Norman said firmly. “None of my neighbors are aware of my condition, and I don’t want them to know. I don’t want their pity.”
Blade couldn’t help his eyes flicking to Josie. She kept her gaze downcast, and her color reddened. She said nothing.
“Don’t you think it would help your relationship with your neighbors if you were open and honest with them?” Blade asked. “People might surprise you by being very understanding.”
“I’ve been trying to hide my cerebral palsy for most of my life,” Norman replied. “I don’t expect you know how that feels, but it’s not an easy habit to break.”
“Actually,” Blade said, pulling up the leg of his jeans, “I understand perfectly. I lost my lower leg seven years ago, and I’ve been attempting to walk normally ever since. When you have a disability, sometimes all you want to do is look like a regular Joe.”
Norman stared openmouthed at the prosthetic leg for a few seconds. “Well, I’d never have guessed,” he said finally. “You do a pretty good job of passing for able-bodied.”
Blade smiled knowingly. “When I got my first prosthesis, all I wanted to do was pass as able-bodied. I wore long pants all the time, even in one-hundred-degree heat. I didn’t want anybody to see that I was disabled, so I practiced walking normally for hours and hours until my limb bled. I just didn’t want to be different.”
Norman picked up one of his carved figurines and caressed it in his hands. “You’re fortunate that you’re able to compensate for your disability so well. Mine is much more noticeable.” He held the figurine in midair and it jerked slightly. “As you can see, I have very poor coordination in the muscles of my right arm and right leg. Even though my condition is mild compared to others’, it’s almost impossible for me to look like a regular person.”
“Then why try?” Blade asked. “I stopped trying years ago. These days I wear shorts, I go swimming and I never hide my prosthesis or my residual limb. Do people stare? Yes, of course they do, but I don’t care. I am who I am.” He noticed Josie concentrating on his face, listening closely. “It’s liberating to face the world without a mask.”
Norman shook his head. “You’re a much younger and braver man than I am, Mr. Harding. I’m almost seventy years old. I couldn’t face the world without my overcoat.”
Josie cleared her throat. “Norman won’t even let me refer to his condition in the trial. I think it’s highly relevant and will allow the jury to understand his character more fully.”
“I already told you, Josie,” Norman said, his voice unwavering. “I don’t want anybody’s pity.”
“But I wish you’d at least consider it,” she said. “The jury sees you sitting in the courtroom swamped by a huge coat, and they assume you have something to hide. They won’t get a chance to see the real you.”
“That suits me just fine,” he said. “I’d rather they didn’t see the real me. If people knew about my cerebral palsy, they’d probably treat me even worse than they do now. They’d either pity me or mock me, and I’m not sure which one is worse.”
“Think about the alternative,” Blade said. “Which is them seeing you as a child abuser.”
“I know it may seem strange to you, but I’d rather suffer the consequences than be judged as weak and pitiful.”
Blade felt a kinship with Norman. “The opinions of others don’t matter. By trying to hide yourself away, you’re giving them too much power over your happiness. Trust me, I know this. I hid away for too long.” His eyes flicked over to the Bible and saw the pages open to the book of Job. “Job was afraid of the opinions of others, too. He said, ‘I feared the great multitude. And the contempt of families terrified me. And I kept silent and stayed indoors.’ But like you, Job had done nothing wrong and had no reason to be ashamed.”
A tremor gripped Norman’s hand, and he held both palms tightly together as if in prayer. He remained silent for some time, head bowed.
“You know your Bible well,” he said, looking up. “The book of Job is one of my favorites.” He smiled, revealing the fact that a couple of teeth were missing. “And I guess that this particular verse would seem to sum up my situation pretty well.” He raised his eyebrows as if seeing the parallel for the first time. “I do keep silent and stay indoors most of the time.” He pointed to the electronic tag secured around his leg. “Even before I had this ankle bracelet.”
“So why not throw off the shackles and allow others to see your true self?” Blade asked. “Why don’t you allow Josie to reveal your condition to the jury?”
Norman was unmoved. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’m not prepared to do that. You’re asking too much of me.”
Blade had expected this. The first time he had worn shorts with his prosthesis, he had been sick with nerves, worried about the stares of others.
“Okay,” Blade said. “But promise me that you’ll at least pray about it.”
Norman’s eyes traveled to the well-worn Bible on the table, and he seemed deep in thought before slowly nodding. “I’ll do that.”
Finally Blade was making progress, so he pushed a little further. “And you’ll consider changing your mind?”
“I said I’ll pray about it,” Norman repeated. “God will lead me from there.” He picked up his tea. “But can we please change the subject now?” He looked directly at Josie. “I carved a bird for Archie. It’s a scale model of a parakeet.” He reached beneath the couch and pulled out a box full of Bubble Wrap. “Now, where did I put it?” He rummaged around inside. “I copied it from a book.”
As Norman searched for the carving, Blade tried to catch Josie’s eye, but she avoided his gaze, staring into the fire, lost in thought. He wondered what was going through her mind. Was she still angry with him regarding his earlier accusations? The look on her face told him nothing.
He wasn’t sure that it mattered, anyway. He hadn’t yet found a way to navigate the gulf between them. And he didn’t know if he ever would.
* * *
Josie waved to Norman as he stood at the window, watching his visitors get into their SUV. She knew that her visits buoyed Norman, and she was glad to be able to help, but this particular visit had affected her profoundly. Norman’s experience of living with a disability seemed to echo Blade’s, and it forced her to reevaluate whether Blade had been correct to call her out on her failings. While in Norman’s home, she had wanted to help him with the groceries, to take the tray of tea from his hand and to ensure that he didn’t strain himself. It was exactly how she treated Blade. And she had begun to see things through his eyes.
“Thanks for what you did back there,” she said to Blade. “I’ve never gotten that far in persuading Norman to allow the jury to know about his condition. I’ve been working on him for over a year, but it took you only ten minutes to get him to open up a little.”
“I think he just needed to hear that he’s not the only one to struggle with an impairment,” Blade said. “He’s tried to cope on his own for so long, he’s forgotten how many other disabled people are out there, living regular lives.”
She fell silent, realizing that Blade and Norman’s shared experience of disability gave them common ground—one she couldn’t be part of. And one she simply didn’t understand, no matter how hard she tried.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“About what?”
“About my behavior toward you.” Josie was too embarrassed to look at him, so she focused on Norman standing at the window, pulling the drape aside, peering both ways down the street. “I was angry when you challenged me about treating you differently. I just didn’t see it. I thought you were being overly sensitive.”
She glanced up to see Blade smile as Detective Sykes pulled slowly away from the curbside and onto the street. Josie gave Norman one last wave, feeling a little tug on her heart to see his downcast expression as he let the drape fall over the window once again.
“And what changed your mind?” Blade asked.
She finally turned to face him, seeing him give her his full attention, and she felt the pressure of choosing the right words to convey her sincerity.
“No matter how hard I try to imagine it, I’ll never know how you or Norman feels. I’ll never know the hurt caused by a throwaway comment or the humiliation of being helped across the street. I can never know these things because I’m not part of your world, and I can’t walk in your shoes. Seeing you connect with Norman so easily made me realize how little I truly comprehend.” She played with a strand of hair, unused to admitting a personal failing. “I guess that being an attorney has made me arrogant. I assume that I can get inside everybody’s head.” She laughed nervously. “But I can’t get inside yours.”
Blade said nothing, and she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands, waiting for confirmation that her apology had been accepted.
Finally the silence was too much. “Please say something, Blade.”
The next words from his mouth were not ones she had been expecting.
“Watch out!” he yelled to Detective Sykes as the car neared an intersection. “Stop!”
But the detective didn’t react quickly enough to the danger that Blade had seen. Josie had no idea what was happening, but she heard the tires blow beneath the car with a series of huge bangs, and she put her hands over her ears in shock. The SUV began to veer from side to side as their driver struggled to control their path. The vehicle plowed into a line of traffic cones that had cordoned off a hole in the ground, where workmen were laying cables.
Josie felt Blade pull her close and hold her tight as the men scattered in all directions, and the car plunged headlong into the ditch with a sickening crunch.