Life opened up nice and rosy. I fell in
love with my new self and the joy of living. Then I didn't want to
die--never had, you understand, except to cheat the bugs; it gave
me the horrors to think of the chances I'd taken. To be strong, to
be healthy and free from pain, to tear my food like a wild animal,
and to enjoy hard work was all new and strange and wonderful. I
was drunk with it. To think of being cut down, crippled, reduced
to the useless, miserable thing I had been, was intolerable. I was
twice as scared then as I'd ever been, for I had more to lose. You
understand? I forced myself to do the insane things expected of
me, when people were looking--natural pride, I suppose--but when
they weren't looking, oh, how I dogged it! I crawled on my belly
and hid in holes like a snake."
"How--funny!" Norine exclaimed.
"You've got a blamed queer idea of humor," Branch flashed, with a
show of his former irritability.
"And so you shot yourself?"
"Yep! I tried to select a good spot where it wouldn't hurt or
prove too inconvenient, but--there isn't a place to spare on a
fellow's whole body. He needs every inch of himself every minute.
I was going to shoot myself in the foot, but my feet are full of
bones and I saw myself on crutches the rest of my life."
"Why didn't you resign from the service? You didn't regularly
enlist and you've surely earned your discharge.
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