Offering His Arm

Chapter One “That makes no logical sense.” Typically, when Reed Cannon said those words they were out of frustration as he tried to use facts and figures to prove what was clearly rational. Not this time. Reed found himself running the fingers of his right hand through his hair. His lips split into a grin. His shoulders relaxed as he leaned back and looked at the screen. “Not everything has to make sense, Specialist Cannon,” said the woman on the other end of the voice only call. She was wrong again. But Reed didn’t mind. He liked the sound of her voice and was happy to hear her speak more words. Even if they were groundless and implausible. “Some things you just know,” she continued. She had him. Because this was something that Reed, somehow, someway, just knew. Sarai Austin, the owner of the sultry voice that was heating up Reed’s speakers, made sense. She was the proverbial One that the love stories told of. The two of them had so much in common from their educational backgrounds; where he had studied Computer Science, she had studied Web Design. To their tastes in food; she detested Brussel’s sprouts and you couldn’t get him near a stalk of cruciferous poison. And then there was the most important commonality; they rolled in the same science fiction television and film fandoms. “The Weeping Angels would totally and entirely decimate The Silence,” Reed insisted, championing the scary statue villains in the hit science fiction television show Doctor Who. “Nah unh,” Sarai disagreed. “The way a Weeping Angel kills is when their victim looks away. That’s when the stone figure comes alive, uncovers their eyes, and moves closer. If an Angel looks away from a Silence they’d forget they’d even saw them. Hence, the Silence would win.” “Sarai, you are so wrong.” “Oh, really, Reed? You may have gotten me on the Kirk over Picard argument. I still don’t concede on the Spike was better for Buffy than Angel debate. But I’m right on this one.” “The Angel would turn back to stone as soon as the Silent looked at it. But the Angel can still see the Silent while it’s a statue, so it wouldn’t forget. Then, the moment the Silent blinks, the Angel would move in and kill it.” Sarai sighed on the other end of the line. Reed was getting used to that sound. It wasn’t a sound of resignation. No, Sarai didn’t give up so easily. She was about to move in for the kill, and Reed couldn’t wait to hear her rebuttal. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. If they looked at each other, they’d be locked in a staring contest forever.” “You know this is a nonsensical argument about fictional characters?” “I know that when you no longer have a leg to stand on in a debate you call it nonsensical.” Reed chuckled. Just as he was learning her quirks and idiosyncrasies, she was learning his. The sound of her light laughter surrounded him in stereo, but the box on the screen where the video of her face would be was dark. He wanted it to light up with the technicolor of a movie screen. Reed and Sarai had been in communication for weeks on the dating app. Unlike many of the sites out there that had users swiping left or right depending on someone’s attractiveness, this app was designed by sociologists, behavior scientists, and psychologists. The app matched users on levels of compatibility. Sarai and Reed had earned a 98% compatibility score. They’d gone through the seven stages of chatting via messenger. Then recently moved onto chatting over the voice feature of the app. It took four conversations to unlock the video feature. This was their fifth conversation. The video feature’s red button had changed to green with their last conversation, but neither of them had engaged it. They had no idea what the other looked like. Reed wasn't fooled enough to say it didn’t matter. He knew it did. The last three women he’d chatted with had balked when they’d seen what had become of his left arm. If he were honest, he’d admit that he’d rushed those relationships. Eager to get to the big reveal to see if they’d accept him. He’d seen their rejection the moment the video went live. Two of them had tried to play it off that his prosthetic arm wasn’t a big deal. One had ended the call immediately. Those other two never called back after their play acting. Reed had taken things slow with Sarai. Mainly because of their high compatibility score. But also, because he liked chatting with her. Now they were outside a chat room and talking. But he couldn’t delay it any longer. She had to see him. He just hoped that she accepted what came up on the screen. “Sarai, you know what would make sense right now?” “What? That the Cybermen could take out Daleks?” Reed chuckled at the absurd idea, but he kept the conversation on track. “The video feature is available. Do you think maybe it’s time we both went live on screen?” The pause that ensued was deafening. Reed leaned back in his office chair. His office consisted of a desk shoved into the corner of the dining room he shared with no one. Reed wanted to share his dining room. He wanted to share his life. He felt certain that this was the woman who should be sitting next to him in this empty room. “Why?” Sarai asked. Her voice was so tiny and small. So unlike the big personality that came through her text messages and voiced arguments. “There’s something about me that I think you should know. You have to see me in order to do that.” “Is this about your arm?” she asked. There was a note of relief in her voice. “You wrote that you have a prosthetic clear as day on your profile. It doesn’t bother me.” “Women have said that to me in the past. Then when they see it, they sing another tune.” Reed leaned forward, getting closer to the dark video dot at the top of his screen, even though Sarai couldn’t see him. “I really like you, Sarai. I’d like to take our relationship to the next level. A level where there are pictures. Unless … you’re not interested in going any further.” “No, no. It’s not that. It’s just …” Reed pulled close to the speakers listening intently as she inhaled. Still no resignation in her breath. She wasn’t giving up. She was going to launch into another argument. And he was going to give in. If she didn’t want to see him live, or if she wanted to wait longer, he’d let her have her way. It didn’t make sense, but something told him he’d have to be patient with this woman. “All right. We can turn the cameras on.” Reed’s heart pounded against his chest. He felt an itch in the palm of his hand. The itch was in the palm of his left hand which was no longer a part of his body. Phantom feelings came to him from time to time. Right now, the phantom fingers of his left hand wanted to reach out and click the button to turn on the feed that would finally bring him closer to meet his match. He reached out his right hand and flipped the switch.