Dirty Secrets

Part 67

When she turned the corner from the mudroom into the kitchen, Lyla was stunned to see Packer standing on the opposite side of the island. She didn't immediately recognize him with the red Chicago Bulls' ballcap covering his bald head but his mischievous grin gave him away. Behind him, stood a man built like a football player, his thick neck like a tree trunk emerging from his tight-fitting Polo shirt.

What the fudge?

Lyla had lost confidence in her brain's ability to reliably process and properly interpret sensory input. 

"Ready, Doc?" Packer asked.

"Go for it," he replied. "Slowly."

With the aid of forearm crutches, Packer struggled to inch his way around the corner of the island, off-balance, his face red with strain. "Iron Man," he gasped. His crutch slipped and Doc caught him. He straightened the ballcap on his head.

Packer wore a robotic-looking device around his waist, attached to both legs with straps around his thighs and below both knees. "Check me, check out. Cyborg."

"Let's not overdo it," Ms. Packer cautioned dropping her keys onto the granite counter beside the refrigerator.

"Just to the end of... end of... the island."

Taking one short, measured step at a time, he wobbled along the unsteady, brief journey, Doc supporting him by gripping his back brace.

Watching in amazement, Lyla uttered, "What is happening here?"

His mom interjected. "I think he's pushing too hard. But--"

"I'm not," he said. "Tempora... physically impaired... for the time being. On the come. Comeback trail." He lost his balance momentarily while shifting from one foot to the other. A crutch skipped off the floor surface and twisted out of his grasp, but Doc caught him before he toppled. 

"Okay, that's enough," Doc said. He pulled one of the metal stools away from the counter and assisted Packer into a seated position. The strain was evident on Packer's face, though he tried to disguise it with a quiet chuckle. "Pretty some... awesome, right?" He wiped the perspiration from his upper lip.

"I don't even know what to say," Lyla replied.

"I'm Terry," said the guy assisting Packer. He picked up the crutch from the floor and leaned it against the counter. "And I'm not a doctor. He just calls me that cuz he likes giving people nicknames." Addressing Packer he said, "Let's turn this thing off. " He pressed a command button on the control band and removed it from Packer's wrist.

"I'm Lyla."

"What's your nickname?"

"I don't have one. Yet. That I know of."

"How can you... you can't improve... improve on Lyla," said Packer.

"Anyone want a glass of water?" Packer's mom offered.

"Sure," Lyla and Terry answered in unison.

"Lyla, I hope you can stay for dinner," said Ms. Packer taking two drinking glasses from the cabinet. "I'm ordering take-out in about an hour."

"Yeah, okay I guess." The shock of what she'd witnessed had not yet worn off.

Terry began unfastening Packer's leg supports. "Take a minute to rest and let me get this exoskeleton off of you."

"I wanna keep go... going."

"We're done for today, tiger."

"Listen to Terry," Ms. Packer said, placing two glasses of water on the counter.

Lyla lifted the strap from her shoulder and hung her backpack over the back of a metal stool. While reaching for the glass of water, the strap slipped and the bag crashed to the tile floor.

"I hope nothing," said Packer. "Hope nothing got dam... broke."

She picked up her bag. "My laptop's in here," she said to him. "But it's already broke."

"How broke? What kind?"

"It fell off my bed and now it won't turn on."

"Yep, that sounds broken."

"Not what I needed."

"Leave it... leave with me. I'm actually. I'm pretty good, good... with fixing. Plus I'm super... super bored."

........

A few hours later, when they pulled up in front of Lyla's house, Ms. Packer said, "Thanks so much for visiting. It means a lot to him."

"Sure," said Lyla. "I still can't get over that robotic thing."

"Exoskeleton. Welcome to the future."

"I mean wow. It's hard to process. The last time I saw him, there he was on the couch."

"I know, right? With spinal injuries like Oliver's, the specialists said it's important to revive the motor connections as soon as possible. Seems like they're rushing if you ask me. It's supposed to help new regions of the brain make new neuro connections. Apparently, Oliver is a good candidate."

"I could see that."

Ms. Packer looked toward the porch and asked, "Is that your father?"

"Yep," said Lyla getting out of the car. 

"He looks like you."

"Really? People always tell me I look like my mom." She lifted her backpack from the backseat and slung it over her shoulder.

"Hi," he said with a welcoming smile. "I'm Lyla's dad, Ryan." He stopped to admire the luxury automobile, its glistening coating, and titanium silver wheels.

"Janica Packer." She extended her hand out the window.

"Janica?"

"People call me Jan."

"Sure." When he stepped closer, Lyla could see her dad admiring the plush buckskin leather interior like a kid in a candy store.

"My son, Oliver. Out of all of his friends on the track and basketball teams, or even from his group at the hospital, Lyla is the only one he wants to see."

"Is that right?"

"Thanks again, Lyla."

"Oh. You're welcome. Thanks for dinner." She started for the porch, her dad right behind her. When they got inside the house he waved to Janica from the doorway then said to his daughter, "That car! Holy crap!"

"You should see their house."

He closed the door. "What did you have for dinner?"

"They ordered Ethiopian food."

"What is that?"

"Nothing I can pronounce." She shrugged. "Some of it's actually kinda good." She climbed the stairs. "I got homework to do."