Book Two: Part Four - Binding Evil - Chapter Two
West Park Sport’s & Rehab Clinic
Wednesday – August 22nd – 2:45 p.m.
Stevie walked through the twin front doors that opened electronically. He was stall adapting to his new artificial leg, which was one reason he was using crutches to brace himself until he was strong enough to do away with them.
The two hours of physical therapy were rough hours for him. Stevie was still trying to master a leg without flesh and blood, bone, and muscle. It was a big challenge for a fifteen- year old boy, but he refused to give up. One day, his new leg would just be there, moving without pre-thought without worrying if he would walk five feet and fall down.
He wasn’t going to let the accident get in the way of his future. Besides, he knew if he quit, he would be letting mom down, and tarnishing the memory of his father.
At his age, he couldn’t, and wouldn’t ever do that.
As he made his way to the sidewalk, he could see his mom’s car, with her behind the wheel waiting patiently.
In his first week of rehab, she would always be at the passenger’s side door; helping him in, making certain he was safe. Two weeks ago, he talked to her on the way home about that.
“Mom? Promise not to get mad if I tell you something?”
“I promise. Cross my heart, even. What’s up, bub?”
“I’ve been telling my therapist, Mrs. Peterson, some stuff. You know, like what I do at home, how I’m getting around and stuff.” He looked at her to get acknowledgement.
“Okay, and then,” Baker led for him.
“Well, I was telling her how you help me get around the house sometimes, and how you are always helping me get in and out of the car; and she said I need to start doing that on my own. And you know what, mom?”
“What, Stevie?” Though she believed she already knew.
“She’s right. It’s the only way to help myself get adjusted. So I’m asking, short of me nose-diving head first on my face, or breaking an arm or leg; you have to start letting me get in and out of the car on my own.”
No fuss. No muss. No problem.
Focusing on the here and now, Stevie asked, “Anything exciting happen today?”
“I broke a nail.”
They both broke out laughing as she pulled into a Sonic and ordered a late lunch.
While munching on a foot-long, Baker couldn’t help but marvel over Stevie’s determination to bounce back from such a near-fatal travesty; and so recently; yet every day she watched his progress, and were it not for Mark, and his inbred hindsight; Stevie would probably still be one leg short today.
She thought back to that one day when the specialist, Dr. Marie Lambert, spoke to her in her office.
Dr. Lambert’s Office
Monday – June 11th – 9:45 a.m.
“Lieutenant Baker, I can tell you we have made remarkable advances in medicine and human anatomy. Decades ago it was pretty much a wooden arm or leg with no give, or nothing at all. Then came the flexible flesh-like prosthesis which aided patients to walk much easier, but even that was uncomfortable and burdensome.
In the last eight to ten years, modern science allows us to attach and arm or leg with synthetic nerve endings. These are first attached to the remaining nerve endings in the portion of your son’s remaining thigh. In essence, your son would have the equivalent of a bionic leg. Once the nerve endings are attached to the thigh, they are then reattached to special area component sections in the upper part of his new leg, and then strapped on to insure a snug, but not overly tight fit.
“The component acts like a reader and assesses the neural movement of your son’s thigh and acts accordingly as if it were really his leg.
“Once he has gained full use of it without any awkwardness, general about four to six months; anyone other than those who are close to him would never know his leg isn’t real. As he grows and matures, a replacement leg would be available for him. The components in the computer sensors will act like a springboard when he walks whereby he will not have any awkwardness or limp. He won't be able to run, but he will be able to walk as if he had two normal legs."
“This is all well and good, Dr. Lambert, but I live on a cop’s salary. I don’t have the kind of money I think you’re talking about to chunk down for something like this. Don’t get me wrong, I will do what I can for my son; but you’re talking thousands of dollars here.”
In truth, Lieutenant Baker, with surgery, the bionic leg and therapy, about $200,000.
“But I’m sure the bank in town would graciously give you a loan, especially with your record and background.”
“Maybe. It will be something I will have to look in to.”
“You may want to check quickly, then.”
“Why is that?”
“The nerve endings in your son’s thigh will recede within the next ten to fourteen days and will no longer be available for use for what I described. By this, I mean the nerve endings will die.
“But with the apparatus attached, it will continually send out what we refer to as reminders, or electrical stimuli to keep the nerve endings functioning as he grows.
“In truth, Lieutenant Baker, you really have less than two weeks to make a decision. We can go bionic or with a regular prosthesis.”
Baker realized right then and there it was all or nothing for Stevie. She wanted him to have the best opportunity possible. She thanked Dr. Lambert and left.
Going out to her car, to drive to the bank and see if in fact the bank would give her a loan; her cell phone rang.
“Baker here.”
“Is this Janis Baker?”
“Yes. Who’s calling?”
“My name is Daniel Watson. I’m an insurance agent for All-State.”
“Sorry. I don’t need insurance.”
She was about to close the call.
“No, please, wait one moment. I’m not calling to sell you insurance, Ms. Baker.”
“Then just why are you calling, Mr. Watson?”
“Our office only just received word, yesterday, of your friend’s death,” Daniel wasn’t sure enough to say ex-husband, “and he left behind an insurance policy in three names in the event of his death. One, was a Donald Jensen, of whom I understand is also deceased.
Would that be correct?”
“Yes. Could you please hurry this along?”
“Sorry. The other two beneficiaries are namely you, in the amount of $500,000, and also a Steven Aiden Baker in the amount of 1.5 million dollars. But it also states….”
Baker was stunned. She didn’t catch on to Donald’s last name right away, but then she knew Mark well enough that in matters such as these, he never thought small.
“…. that you will oversee the financial estate of Steven Aiden Baker until he graduates from high school, and or he decides to go to college, which upon graduation, the remaining funds would revert over to him completely and fully.”
“Daniel Watson, correct?
“Let me ask you, Daniel; how long would it take to set up the transfer or wiring of the money into my account?”
“Hardly anytime at all. We can fax the necessary paperwork to you that is required by law, whereby you have to show proof of identification, and say, within thirty days, everything would be in order.”
“Is there a way I can get an advance from my portion, say within the next few days?” She explained why.
Once she was off the phone, she called Dr. Lambert post haste. She had two words for her.
“Do it.”
Not only would Stevie’s financial and educational future be assured, but also his physical well-being.
She was certain from where Mark was at the moment, he heard her simple words.
“Thank you, Mark, for looking out for him.”
Those first few days in the hospital were rough ones for Stevie. He was still healing from the injuries he sustained, and he had no choice but to miss his father’s funeral, and Donald’s as well.
Under the medication given him every night before bedtime would take effect, he and his mom would talk and talk. Stevie, always asking the how and whys of everything. Baker would do her best to give the best answers she could. Those answers that were hard to put into words but had to be said.