A Home Visit

"Danny?"
"Yah, Mom?" I asked, not looking at her as I dribble the basketball down our backyard concrete slab. It wasn't much of a court, but I didn't mind. I was only playing against myself after all.
"You have a visitor."
She told me that at exactly the wrong moment. I missed my basket. "A visitor?"
"A...friend from school?"
I slowly picked up the ball. A friend, from school. I knew why my mom was hesitant. I didn't usually have school friends drop by. So this was new for both of us. The question was, what was Jake doing here at my house? And as a 'friend?' I didn't know that's what we were that.  
"Be right there, Mom." I called back, actually making the basket this time. I scooped up the sunglasses from where I'd dropped them with my shirt and put both back on.

"You look uncomfortable." I said a couple minutes later as I walked into my family's living room. Jake sat on the edge of one of our green couches, his burned arm held tightly against his chest.
He shrugged. "You do too."
"Yah, you're in my house, what are you doing here Jake?" I asked sitting across from him.
"Do you always wear your sunglasses in your house?" he asked in return, staring at me.
I smiled thinly. "Only when I have visitors, do you pretend your arm is useless in your own home?"
He hesitated before shaking his head. "No."
I raised an eyebrow. "After what you said about your parents I thought you would."
He grimaced. "My parents have to appear to agree with the doctors. But while we're home, they don't care what hand I use."
"Remind me never to go to the doctor then. Again, Jake, why are you here?"

"I want to see what's behind the glasses." He looked at me. His green eyes rather determined. "I figured you'd only show me in your home, away from the others."
I leaned on my knees, hands under my chin. "And what on earth makes you think you can convince me to do that?"

Slowly Jake straightened. He took a deep breath. And to my surprise. Moved his left arm. Lifting it up, to show me his hand, before straightening it all the way out. "I'll arm wrestle you. I win, you let me see your eyes, I lose." he shrugged. "I have to remain curious."

You have to understand. That was an important moment right there. He'd moved his left arm. Actually moved it. Willingly. Except that one time I saw him climbing in semi-darkness, his arm had for all intents and purposes, been a piece of flab. It would swing uselessly around if he left it unbound when he walked. He'd have to strap it to his chest in order to run. You never saw the fingers twitch, the hand move. Nothing.
And he'd just moved it in front of me. Showing me that yes, it could work perfectly. After years of keeping it secret. He was putting his trust in me.

Catchya on the Flip Side!

Danny