It wasn't the first visit to Aunt Sandra's home; Jean's family often spent long weekends there. This visit would bring change, though Jean would not understand the full impact for another twenty years.
Unlike the other cousins, aunts, and uncles, Sandra had never married. Jean had never seen her with a man either. That first afternoon alone, it was a topic of conversation and Sandra explained she preferred to be with other women, though there was no one in her life now.
Jean explored the farmhouse. On the wall in Sandra's bedroom was a large, framed, tasteful black and white photograph of a nude lounging on a strange looking couch, a Victorian fainting couch she called it. The woman was missing most of both legs.
"A friend," she told her, standing close behind, so close Jean could feel Sandra's breath blow warmly over her neck.
"Her legs...."
"Yes. Isn't she lovely?"
"Ah...."
Jean had seen few nude pictures, never of a woman missing both legs and what it looked like where the leg used to be. She was surprised that it was not ugly or more scared.
"What happened?"
Sandra's hand rested lightly on her shoulder. "She wanted to be that way."
Those words, so casually said, stayed with Jean, always at the forefront of her thoughts. She had never learned more about the woman in the photograph. Sandra had been older and passed away from an inoperable cancer not long after the visit. The topic was too personal to discuss with anyone - in or out of her family. So, all she could do was wonder. That is, until she found a copy of 'Tales of Change'.
-
Roseville is a large university town, not like Chicago or New York, but large enough to provide anonymity if desired and to meet other like-minded people. It is progressive and liberal with a seemingly large gay and lesbian community, even a few transgendered people, mostly men now women. For the first time, Jean feels comfortable with her sexuality. There have even been a few relationships with other women, plus many short lust filled encounters.
Just past thirty now, the image of the woman in the photograph still holds a powerful grip over Jean, one that often grips even tighter at the worst possible moment. Usually resulting in a nasty argument with her current girlfriend then a hasty split. Never overtly because of the subject, nothing said like she wants to be legless, but under it all that is the problem.
After the last breakup, Jean swore to herself that she would take time to explore her feelings. A used lightweight titanium wheelchair, hand controls for her car, and evenings rolling around an office park away from town help more than she thought possible. They are also frustrating because it only to serves to remind her how impossible it is to be such a woman - without legs, without any thigh extending from her hip.
Shops owned by gay and lesbians line several blocks of Tenth Avenue near the university. 'Told Again' is a used bookshop between a clothing store and a cafe, each owned by lesbian women. Jean spends time in each, almost like an extension of her home. The bookstore has comfortable chairs to sit in and read. Women frequenting the store are friendly and she has met, even dated a few.
She usually spends an early lunch hour on Wednesdays reading then eating next door. One Saturday morning after stopping at the clothing store, she visits the bookshop to see what is new. A book lying crooked on the shelf of the lesbian romance section catches her attention. When she picks it up, she finds on the cover a picture of a lovely amputee woman missing a leg leaning sensually on her crutches. The rush she feels is overwhelming and she staggers to a chair nearby with the book dangling from her fingers. A customer inquires if she's okay and she waves the woman off as her breathing begins to return to normal.
She crosses her legs, letting the sandal fall off the foot swinging casually back and forth. The short skirt rides a little higher up her slim thigh as she adjusts her position and flips though the book. It is a series of short stories and she begins reading one.
'I had become addicted to the potion, its effects the elixir for my need to be missing my left leg. Every morning I would wake and inject my thigh, then wait a few moments until the short rounded stump appeared. For the next twelve hours, I would be in heaven walking about on my crutches, my single foot swinging gloriously between the large rubber tips. I knew I could leave it off forever, but the sting of the needle had become a part of my life.'
"Wow," she mumbles quietly. There is a note scribbled at the edge of the page with a link to a web page. She hurriedly reads more.
'Julie rolls back from the bathroom and crawls next to me and fondling my breasts, her hips often without legs as they are now, rub against me increasing my heart rate substantially.'
Jean rests the book in her lap and looks around feeling as though everyone knows what she is reading. The three women in the other chairs have their eyes buried in their own books, not seeming to know the world exists around them. Jean looks at the cover of each and finds only pictures of women kissing women. She looks towards the cashier, an older woman she has not seen before sitting on a tall stool staring off into some personal fantasy.
"How much?" Jean asks, laying the book down on the counter near the cash register.
"Four-fifty," the woman replies. Her fingers caress the cover, as if feeling the stump. There is a gentle sigh and she lets go.
"Have you read it?" Jean asks.
Jean takes her eyes from the woman's butch features with short gray hair, and looks around behind the counter noticing a pair of crutches, long aluminum crutches that people with broken legs or sprained ankles often use. The woman still sits on the stool and it is not obvious if they are her crutches or why she might need them if they are.
"Yes," the woman simply replies. After a long moment, "Have you read any of it?"
"A few pages, just now."
"And?"
"I wish it wasn't fiction."
The woman looks around and finds no one waiting or near. "If it wasn't?"
"I'd buy some."
The woman takes the five ones and puts them the cash register, returning the change. She offers a warm smile. "Can I buy you some coffee?"
Jean nods as she puts the book into her purse. The woman leans down and picks up the crutches. For the first time, she realizes the woman is missing her left leg. The left pants leg of the man's khaki trousers wraps neatly around a hip appears to have no leg to get in the way. A man's denim work shirt with the top two buttons unfastened reveals nothing. A white running shoe is on the single foot.
"Connie!" she calls. "I'm taking a break. Cover the front, please."
"I'm Judy," she offers as the door closes behind them. Jean introduces herself and holds the door to the coffee shop for her.
"I don't find many interested in that book, but when I do I like to talk to them. Hope you don't mind."
"No-o," Jean drawls.
Jean carries the two coffees to a table by the window in the corner then sits across from her. The crutches lean against the wall.
"Hmmm, they have the best coffee." Judy sips again.
"I haven't noticed you before. I'm sure I would have." She chuckles.
"I never work the mornings, more of a night person. Sara was sick today."
"Oh, lucky me."
