It was well past midnight and the hospital department, where comatose patients lay, was sodden with silence. The hospital attendant, a young man called Simon, had just finished mopping the corridor and was now resting on a wooden couch.
Born in Eastern Europe, he moved to the US a year ago, because he realized he won't be able to raise a family with a teacher's salary. The life was hard but he could at least pay his bills, which was very important to him. Simon didn't like the night shifts, though there wasn't much work then. Leisure allowed loneliness to creep in.
After cleaning the toilet, Simon headed toward the balcony, intending to smoke a cigarette there. Then he noticed that the door of ward 8 was ajar. Nurses' carelessness maybe. He knew who lay in ward 8 a girl in her early twenties who had the misfortune to be run over by a pickup truck. Simon hesitated for a moment. Deep in the recesses of his mind a strong impetus was urging him to peep in. He had seen her once but desperately wanted to see her again, a fact that he found quite disturbing.
Simon peeped in. She was lying motionless on her bed, as could be expected of comatose patient. Her face was pale, drawn, but beautiful nonetheless, her brow scarred. The white sheet, draped over her midsection, was just partially covering a hideous metal frame the purpose of which was unknown to Simon.
But he was sure that some of those shiny rods were inserted in her pelvis and lower back. A month ago he had heard a doctor mentioning that her spinal cord was damaged and she was paralyzed from the waist down.
"Poor thing, comatose and paralyzed," mumbled Simon, and then wondered why his pity distinguished this particular patient from all others, which were equally unfortunate. Simon couldn't avert his gaze from her left leg that was elevated above the bed by a system of pulleys and ropes.
The white plaster cast, encasing it from the middle of the thigh to the ankle, was enormously thick, making her bare foot look childish.
He scratched his head thoughtfully. No point wasting money on fiberglass when she will never be able to walk again. Of course. Moreover, she may never wake up from the coma. This tiny foot will never touch the ground again. Lifeless, it will stay frozen like that forever. The symbol of her paralyzed self. And eventually the muscles would wither and shrink, the nice curves vanishing completely. The door of the nurse's room was closed; there was no one to be seen around.
Simon slipped into ward 8 and cautiously closed the door.
Moonlight was bathing the girl's calm face with yellowish light. Her full lips were slightly parted, her white even teeth gleaming underneath. Absolute sleeping beauty.
Simon looked at his hands that, to his surprise, were trembling slightly. His famed calmness seemed to have deserted him. He moved closer to the bed and stared at the bare foot protruding from the cast. His attention was focused entirely on it.
He bent down and sniffed the short plump toes. Pleasant leathery smell tickled his nostrils.
His nose followed the graceful arch of the foot, then lingered over the round, pinkish heel. He could see the delicate ankle and the padded edge of the monstrous cast engulfing the calf, knee and upper part of the leg.
Now, for him, the comatose girl was reduced to an adorable foot that existed by itself, apart from the living body. Not that her body could be called "living" anymore. His mouth closed over the big toe and started sucking it, kissing it, his tongue shimmying like mad, his teeth scraping the trimmed, unpolished nail.
The lifeless foot was swaying precariously but in his excitement Simon didn't noticed that until the ropes and pulleys started creaking like old bedsprings. Startled, he stepped back, the big toe popping out of his mouth. The girl was still sleeping, undisturbed by Simon's advances. Suddenly, a long train of thoughts rushed into Simon's mind.
I should not do that. I could hurt her, or even kill her. She is so fragile that every little budge could be lethal for her. But I want it so much… and this little tootsie is so… There is nothing wrong in making use of such a useless thing as this paralyzed foot of hers.
I just should be more cautious. No risks anymore.
He cupped the heel, squeezing it gently, then tried to take his emotions under control. But his penis was already pulsing like a rabbit's heart. He glanced at the flimsy sheet draped over the metal contraption immobilizing her pelvis and lower spine. The pulsing persisted. The foot was too high, unsuitably high. Simon looked around the ward. There was a locker in the corner. He brought it to the bed, turned it sideways and climbed on it.
He unzipped his pants and seconds later his throbbing penis rested on the comatose girl's toes. With gentle, controlled thrusts he started rubbing his shaft against them.
Though paralyzed, the toes didn't seem unyielding. Retained most of their flexibility, they moved back and forth along with the thrusts, as if responding willingly. Simon was already grunting with pleasure.
The pulleys began creaking again, the swaying plaster cast gathering momentum. Simon turned aside, feeling ashamed of himself. The girl looked more helpless than ever with her plastered leg swaying like a drunken sailor. Simons's head racked with guilt and worries as he was steadying the contraption.
I'm pervert. I'm using an innocent, helpless girl for sexual purposes. She didn't deserve such treatment. Poor thing. What I did could be qualified as rape, or other indictable offence. And they will surely fire me. Such an idiot I am! "Bye-bye, my dear comatose friend with the sexiest foot in the world. I hope you get better soon. Maybe then… And please don't be mad at me. Bye for now," Simon mumbled, then zipped up his pants, returned the locker to its place and got out of ward 8.
Early in the morning there was commotion in ward 8. Two doctors were involved in animated conversation, their faces flushed with excitement.
"I can't believe she waked from the coma. I had almost given her up. Besides, she managed to wiggle her toes. Incredible!" "And more than a month after we stopped trying to activate her peripheral nerves." "Yea, I was sure she had no chance at all." "But obviously God did what we could not do."