No Man Left Behind: A Veteran Inspired Charity Anthology by Elizabeth Knox (black authors fiction TXT) 📕

away out of embarrassment and press back my need to tell her to leave. I can tell by the way my shoe is sitting, suction has broken, and my leg has separated.

“May I?” she asks, pointing to my leg.

“No, I got it, really it’s okay,” I tell her, the last thing I need is her pity. I attempt to sit up once more when the pain in my hip radiates again, stealing my breath and knocking me back on to my elbows.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m calling your sister.” She stands and before I can say anything she is already speaking to Rebecca.

“Rebecca called an ambulance they should be here soon, before you say anything keep your complaints because I would have called them anyway.” She cocks her hip and stares me down.

“Fine,” I bite back.

“When was the last time you had this checked?” she asks, lifting my shorts just enough to reveal my stump. “It’s inflamed and swollen, how long has it been like this?” she continues.

“Who are you my doctor?” I bite back. I hate people invading my space like this, why can’t they just leave me alone.

“No, I am not your doctor but if I was, I certainly would be pissed off that you haven’t had that checked yet,” she reprimands me like an errant child.

A knock on the door has Evelyn running toward it. “Right this way.” She leads them toward the hallway.

“I checked his hip. I don’t think anything is broken, more so I am worried about his leg, it is inflamed and swollen possibly some kind of infection.” She gives a rundown of what happened.

“Sir, can you tell us what caused you to fall?” one of the paramedic’s questions.

“Yeah, I only have one leg,” I say sarcastically.

They don’t look too amused.

“I fell and took the table down with me, that’s all.” I tell them exacerbated at the fact people are making a fuss over me. The last thing I needed or wanted was someone making a big deal over me falling. They pity you; you cripple my conscience berates itself.

“Let’s get you checked out just to be on the safe side. Will you be riding with us?” the paramedic asks Evelyn.

“I will ride right behind you; his sister will be meeting us there,” she tells them, grabbing my keys off the hook and following both paramedics out of the house.

After a series of nurses and doctors come in putting me under a microscope, I finally get some quiet.

That is until my doctor arrives waking me for the third time.

“Listen, I am fine. I know that I need to pay better attention to my leg and to go back and have it refitted, I don’t need a babysitter,” I bark at the doctor.

After being here for six hours, being poked and prodded, I want to go home.

“Well, since you can’t seem to take care of yourself and you lie to your sister maybe you do!” I hear from the door. I look up and see Rebecca tapping her left foot, her tone tells me she is pissed.

“Becks, I promise I’m fine. Nothing serious, just some bumps and bruises. I promise I will be more careful, and I will go back to the VA.” I placate her, the last thing I need is my sister sending in some damn babysitter who looks at me with pity.

“Mr. Cole, you have an infection right now. Your amputation site is swollen, and you need to rest. Unfortunately, you will need to be without your prosthesis until it is all healed. So, you will need some help,” the doctor informs me.

“Doc, when can I go home? My sister will be there, and she can help,” I tell him.

I need to be out of here. Hospitals and I don’t do well. I feel like a trapped animal when I’m in here.

“Rebecca, can I speak to you,” Evelyn says, dread filling me. I had forgotten she was even here. Great, she probably thinks I’m an invalid as well.

Once the girls have left the doctor went to fill out discharge papers. Being back in this place brings back so many memories. Ones that I would much rather ignore and never have to deal with again.

“Okay, we are all set, let’s get you out of here.” My sister’s broad smile lets me know this conversation isn’t finished.

Chapter Two

Evelyn

I steel myself knowing I would see him again; the image of his face has not left my mind since I left his house yesterday. I knock on the door “Coming” I hear and his deep baritone voice washes over me. I stood back waiting to see how the night was with Gracie. Sending up a silent prayer that she behaved, she was still so young she needed a lot of work.

Her bark alerting to me, as I knock again. Only this time her bark is deeper, more incessant accompanied by a crash.

“I’m coming in,” I yell through the door just out of respect, I race through the house toward Gracie’s bark. Lying on the floor halfway in his room and halfway in hallway was Jackson, unconscious, fear shot through me.

“Jackson, Jackson,” I try and bring him around.

“Mr. Cole, are you okay?” I say one more time as he slowly opens his eyes, I sag in relief. “Thank god.”

“I’m okay.” He attempts to sit up with Gracie whining over him and licking his face.

“How is your hip, do I need to call someone?” I ask, trying to keep the concern out of my voice. “Let me take a look,” I say, feeling around his hips and rib cage.

“I think it’s okay.” He pulls away.

“May I?” I ask, pointing to his leg. I can tell by the suction that it has separated.

“No, I got it really, it’s okay,” he says, and I fear I might have overstepped my bounds.

When he tries to sit up the look of agony on his face tells me everything.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m calling your sister.” I stand and