Limbs Akimbo
Charlie Hughes squinted in the May sunshine and felt the sweat drip down the back of his neck underneath his collared shirt. The crowd stared at him as he sat on the stage in his wheelchair. He was hyper-aware of every cough and movement around him. It was hot up on that platform and Charlie felt the eyes of his community on him, his elementary school teachers, neighbors, former high school classmates. They were all watching him as he sat above them. The mayor’s voice droned in his ears.
“Charlie Hughes is one of Brownsville’s finest young men. He was one of our high school’s best baseball players and now he has just returned from serving our country in Iraq,” the mayor said into the microphone, wiping his glistening brow. “Today, we honor Charlie for his bravery in the line of duty and welcome him back warmly into our community.”
There was applause from the crowd at the mayor’s words. Charlie swallowed hard as he looked towards the mayor.
“Now, we give this medal of our appreciation to Charlie for serving our community and our country as well as he did, suffering injuries as he attempted to save a fellow soldier during an attack,” he said, lifting the medal from the podium as he turned to Charlie. “We are happy to present this to you, son.”
Charlie gripped the tired of his wheelchair as he wheeled himself over to the podium. He leaned forward, arms resting on his lap, as the mayor pinned the medal to his collared shirt. The crowd once again began to clap and Charlie stiffened at the sound. The mayor began to speak again and Charlie zoned out. He didn’t like being around people since he had returned home from Iraq. They all stared at him when he went to the store with his mom. People he used to know tried to talk to him but he couldn’t pay attention to what they were saying when they were just staring at his legs; rather, the space where his legs used to be. When he was first escorted off the plane, his mom started crying as soon as she saw him. His dad placed his hand on his shoulder and didn’t look directly at him. He came home missing more than his legs. The ceremony over, Charlie wheeled himself down the handicapped ramp and onto the ground. He made small talk with the people who gathered around him when all he wanted to do was leave.
“Charlie, you must be so proud of everything you did over there,” said Mrs. Miller, his 6th grade teacher. She held her small handbag tightly.
“I didn’t really do anything,” said Charlie, hands on the armrests of his chair. “No one needs to be making such a big deal about everything.”
“Why yes we do, young man!” Her eyed widened at what she assumed was his modesty. “You’re a hero so start acting like one.”
She kissed him on the cheek like his grandmother did and walked away. Charlie searched the crowd for his parents and saw them talking to some neighbors. He wheeled over to them and waited near them as they talked. He missed the days when he could grab his keys out of his back pocket, get in his beat up car, and drive away. He could go anywhere he pleased then. Now he had to wait until his parents were ready until he could go anywhere, even the bathroom. It was humiliating. He coughed in his mother’s direction.
“Can we go now?” Charlie asked, anxious at all the people waiting for their chance to be insincere with him.
“Already? It’s just begun,” his mother replied, horrified at her ungrateful son. “Give it a little while, honey.”
Charlie sighed and wheeled away from his parents, towards a quiet area of the park near some flowers. He stopped there and pulled his lighter and pack of Marlboros out of his shirt pocket. He wasn’t supposed to be smoking but he really didn’t give a shit at this point. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. He hated all of this hoopla over him. No one at home knew what had happened out there and he hoped they never would. Heroes didn’t push their fellow soldier into the line of fire after all. Charlie lost his legs but Zack had lost his life. He blew out a smoke ring when he heard his name being called.
“Charlie, are you ready to go?” He heard his mother yelling to him and he threw aside his cigarette and headed towards his parents’ car. His chest tightened as he saw a little boy eating a slice of his celebratory cake. He had killed someone and now there was cake. He wheeled faster to the car.
