Page 6 of Codename: Dustoff
“Hey, Gem. Can you ask the hotel to bring down some of the captain’s chairs from reception? The cushy ones with the oversized arms?”
“What are you doing?” Shock and mortification dripped through my body like a viscous oil, seeping into every dark crevice and strangling me in shame.
“You shouldn’t have to stand the whole meeting just because no one realized those damn banquet chairs are uncomfortable.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.” I railed, “You have no business trying to advocate for someone who you don’t even know.”
The din of conversation silenced somewhere during our little tete a tete. The sole focus of everyone in the room, was us. Gemini and one of the hotel staff, rolled in the oversized chair I’d been sitting in before the meeting started.
“I don’t need that,” I told Gemini, pointing at the object in question. I could feel my throat tightening, and my pulse race. “This is totally unnecessary. I can stand. I’m fine with standing!”
The prosthetic was actually more comfortable when I stood. Sitting made it hurt like hell. It was one of many problems I had to deal with as a result of having only fragments of my femur left intact being stabilized by metal plates.
“I think we should get the meeting started, and Amelia, we’re going to be doing a lot of work in our journals today, it’s probably best that you be seated at a table. Is there anywhere in particular you’d like them to place the chair?” Henry asked, pointing to any of the options along the two banquet style tables they had set up. “If there are additional accommodations you require, we can try our best to make sure you have what you need to feel comfortable.”
That was the point though.
“Why do I deserve any kind of special accommodation?” I asked.
I already knew what he would say before it was even voiced. My whole body tensed in anticipation. Every time I went anywhere it was always the same.
“You gave an awful lot to this country, just for us to be sitting here today.” Butch, an older man in a wheelchair—amputee from the knees down—diabetes, he’d told me last week, signaled to the chair they placed at the head of his fucking table. “You deserve a whole lot more than cushy chair young lady.”
I didn’t deserve a cushy chair. We were all amputees. We all had discomfort in some way or form. And I certainly didn’t deserve to be comfortable given all the suffering poor Garcia had gone through. I couldn’t think about him right now.
“You’ve already sacrificed so much.” Gemini stood just to my right. I hadn’t heard her approach, but she was close enough to rest her hand on my shoulder. “It’s just a chair. One that will make it tolerable to be sitting for the meeting today. It’s nothing more than that.”
“Jesus guys. If she doesn’t want to sit in the chair, I’m sure someone else would be more than happy to.” Emmett and I locked eyes, and he rose his eyebrow in challenge. “We have accepted accommodations because of our injuries. But apparently a chair is some kind of knock against Amelia’s pride, so let’s just move on with our meeting. If she wants to stand in the back of the room, be uncomfortable, and not participate—that’s on her. I’m sure her commanding officer or whomever sent her here, will love to hear about how enthusiastically she participates.”
Emmett had some balls, I’d give him that.