Half a man

4- Mashed potatoes

For the first time in months, Tom was feeling human again. For the first time in months his pain level was at 3.

-- What do you think about this one, asked Lizzie showing him the schematic of a mirror box. You can fit your whole arm in it.

Tom nodded without really looking at it. He was still hypnotised but the sight of his fake left hand moving.

-- Shit, Lizzie suddenly swore, I'm going to be late for work!

Tom looked up as she shoved some sheets in her bag. She scribbled something on another one and set it next to the box. She met his eyes, twitched her nose and said.

-- You know what, you're coming with me.

-- I can call a cab, he said sitting up.

He almost felt physically the loss of his arm. Well not like when it really happened, thankfully it was less painful and traumatic. But still, exiting the mirror box left him weird and incomplete.

Lizzie was already taking his hand and dragging him to the parking lot. She made a call, asking someone to book a "room 4" because she had an "appointment". Then she drove to the the mall. She was working in one of those beauty shops where you can get your hair, nails and makeup done.

Tom childishly let her lead him into a little room in the back of the shop. It was warm and cosy but there was too many mirrors to his taste. Everywhere he looked he could see his empty sleeve. She left him for a minute and came back wearing a black smoke and with her hair tied in a neat bun.

-- What am I doing here, he asked.

-- When was the last time you washed your hair?

-- This morning, he replied annoyed, you made me.

-- Running water on them is not washing, Tom.

He shrugged and she rolled her eyes.

-- Don't you have real work to do?

-- You are my work, she smirked, and I'm charging you the deluxe package, rich boy!

It made him smile. How long was it since he had smile? Her face brightened and she wrapped him in a long robe. She made him sit in a big armchair by the basin, lifted his hair and gently rested his head in the groove. Tom felt unworthy of all these attentions. Ashamed. But then she started massaging his skull...

Tom lost track of time. It seemed like Lizzie washed his hair for hours. It felt nice. The simple fact that it felt something, something else than pain, was a surprise to him. He didn't knew he could feel anymore...Then she wrapped his hair in a towel and pushed the chair away from the basin. He had closed his eyes for a while now and didn't opened them. He was afraid the dream would fade away.

He felt her sitting on the left armrest and wiping droplets of water that had rolled on his face and neck. She brushed her fingers on his cheek and suddenly her breath was on his face. His heart skipped a beat when her lips kissed the tip of his nose and he felt tears filling his closed eyes. They used to do that when they were kids.

-- You can take a nap if you want, she whispered still leaning over him. I'll wake you up when I take my lunch break.

He waited for her to leave and start crying. Today was a real emotional rollercoaster.

Tom must had fall asleep. In his dreams Lizzie was still here, caressing his face. He had forgotten how good she always smelled. She liked sugary perfumes. He bought her one for her birthday some years ago. Sweet, it was called. He remembered the red apple shaped bottle. He remembered her smile.

In his dreams the smile turned into a wince. She was frowning, and twitching her nose. She was pushing him away, telling he was nothing more than a shadow. Half a man.

Tom awoken with a start, short of breath. He grunted in pain and grabbed his stump. The pain was back. He was a fool to believe this could last for so long...

Lizzie came checking on him shortly after. She sat him on another chair in front of a big mirror and took out an electric hair clip.

-- What are you doing, Tom asked in a growl.

-- Cutting your hair, silly, she replied.

But then she eyed him through the mirror and pouted.

-- Is it hurting again?

Tom didn't bother answering. Why did she even wanted to cut his hair? He watched her walking to the back of the room and coming back with a square mirror about a foot long. She tucked it between his left side and the armrest.

-- Is it good here, she asked.

Just like that, she made him complete again. He nodded and stared at the reflection of his arm while she cut his long curls.

-- I'm sorry, she said when she was done. I'm not really good at this. But at least it'll be easier for you to wash them. Now come on, let's get something to eat, I'm starving!

It was 2:30 p.m. on a tuesday so the mall was pretty much empty. Lizzie bought 2 sandwiches and they sat in the little park behind the building.

-- Dan told me you never talk during the sessions, she said after a long silence.

Tom didn't know what to say, so he kept his eyes on his food.

-- I feel bad forcing you to go there if you don't feel like sharing with them, she sighed. But I wish you would...

-- What do you want me to talk about, he shrugged.

-- I don't know, whatever makes you feel better. About the accident maybe? Or how you feel?

-- I don't want to talk about that with strangers.

-- Isn't it supposed to be easier that way?

Tom shrugged again and took a bite of his sandwich. He was struggling with it and half it's content had fallen on the paper napkin. He wasn't even that hungry.

-- Would you talk to me then, she asked softly. I'm no stranger.

-- You already know what happened.

She pursed her lips and looked away. Tom realised she was hurt...He felt guilty. He stared at the mess he'd made on the table, then at the sky. His left arm was stinging.

-- It's like everything tastes like mashed potatoes, he muttered.

He felt her flinching next to him but kept his eyes in the far.

-- You mean the food?

-- I mean everything. Whatever I do, whatever happens to me, it's...bland, tasteless. Just like if everything you eat tastes like mashed potatoes. You can cook it a different way, put spice on it, it still tastes like mashed potatoes...

-- Even today?

He glanced at her, saw her shiny eyes. Maybe today was the exception? But not that much.

-- The pain was better today. Not the guilt, he sighed.

-- So guilt doesn't tastes like mashed potatoes?

He glanced again. Was she trying to mess with him? She looked serious, though.

-- I don't know...

-- My head massage certainly doesn't, she added with a fake smug.

He let out a chuckle. She was trying hard, he could grant her that. She leaned closer and stared right at him:

-- You just need the right spice, she said before kissing him on the cheek. I gotta go back to work, she added standing up.

-- Okay. I'll just call a cab.

-- Why don't you call Nikki, she asked startled. Or Harry? I know they're home.

-- I don't want to bother them.

-- Tom, she sighed, stop thinking you're bothering us. It's just a ride home. Don't be silly, call your Mum.

He shrugged and she lifted her hands in the air. She walked away shaking her head and shouted again "Call your Mum".