Chapter 14: One Leg Shy of a Cop, Part 1

Dan pulled the sock over his stump, then attached the prosthetic leg. He hated the thing. It made his stump ache and the difference in weight threw his balance off. He used to run marathons. Now he was lucky to walk a city block before pain made sweat bead on his forehead.

The doctors told him it took some people that way. Their body never got the message that the limb was gone. He had to live with the pain, or in a wheelchair.

He put on his uniform and made sure everything was exact. His girlfriend sighed before hugging him.

"They won't give your job back just because you look good."

"I can't sit around and collect a pension," Dan said. "All that work to get this far, I need just a little more."

"I'll drive you there," Cindy said. She knocked back the last of her coffee and grabbed her keys.

"Don't you have that editing to do? You were saying the client was getting antsy."

"I work for myself, Dan. I'm giving myself a half day off."

Dan put on his winter coat and negotiated the steps and walk to the car. One foot wanted to carry him to the driver's side. The other was a soulless hunk of steel and plastic. He climbed into the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt.

Cindy dropped him off in front of the station.

"Thanks," she said.

"What for?" Dan extricated himself from the car.

"Don't think I didn't see those white knuckles on the door handle." She waved at him, "Call me when you want me to pick you up."

Dan walked through the plaza. Snow had always been a nuisance, now it was treacherous. He made it to the doors and into the atrium of the station.

"Good morning, constable," Tim, the special officer at the desk, said.

"I would have brought you coffee," Dan said, "but it'd be cold by now."

"I was thinking about sending out a team of sled dogs for you."

"Don't know how to drive sled dogs." Dan shrugged and opened his coat before he overheated.

"Captain's expecting you," Tim said. "Go on up and he'll be with you in a few minutes."

"Expecting me?" Dan said. He resisted the temptation to put his hands in his pockets to hide the shaking.

"You have been in every day since they let you out of rehab. If you didn't come in, I'd send a car to do a welfare check."

"Thanks, Tim." Dan made his way to the elevators and rode to the seventh floor. The receptionist took his coat and told him to sit.

"You don't need to treat me special," Dan said, then winced.

"It's okay, constable," she said, "I help the mayor with her coat and she isn't half as deserving as you."

Dan sat in the soft chair, trying to keep from slouching. The receptionist brought him coffee and he made himself smile and thank her.

He'd started with his staff sergeant, then the lieutenant, last week he'd worked up the nerve to try to speak to the captain. They'd all been sympathetic, but a constable needed two good legs. Even he had to admit that his prosthetic made him slow.

Dan had been a cop for less than two years. He didn't feel like quitting.

"The captain will see you now," the receptionist said. Dan looked at the full cup of coffee and shook his head. Walking, he could do, just. Carrying a full cup of somewhat hot coffee was no longer possible. He pushed himself to his feet and walked into the captain's office.

"Good morning, constable," the captain came out and shook his hand. "Glad you could join us. You know Sergeant Connor from the Union?"

Dan nodded and shook the sergeant's hand.

"We like to see people who want to come back to work," Sergeant Connor said. "Every effort needs to be made to accommodate officers returning from an injury."

Dan lowered himself into the chair and allowed a little hope to set his heart racing.

"You have to admit that a return to the front line is not going to happen," the captain said as he sat in a chair facing Dan.

"There are plenty of ways to serve other than the front line," Sergeant Connor said.

"I like working with people," Dan said. "Don't know if I'm cut out for a desk job. There has to be some way that I can still be a cop." To his horror, his voice broke. He had to stop and force himself to breathe. The fear was like the pain; it wasn't going to rule him.

"You see?" Sergeant Connor said. "You can't tell me that you can't use some of his dedication."

"There may be a possibility," the captain said. "I'm waiting on the Chief's approval. More on the community side of things, but you will be working with people."

"He stays a cop; he carries a badge."

"If the chief approves, I believe it will be a fit that will make both of you happy."

Dan listened and watched them. They were fighting over something bigger than just what he would do with the rest of his life. He'd heard the Union didn't like the pensioning off of injured officers. The department wanted able-bodied cops they could shuffle at a moment's notice.

The phone on the desk rang. The captain had to walk over to answer it. Dan put his hands on the arms of his chair to keep them from rubbing his leg.

"Okay," the captain said, "thank you, sir. He's here now. I'll let him know."

He came and sat down again.