June 1, 1962, Friday.
Just a few days earlier, Fidel Castro had announced Cuba's transition to socialism, officially severing ties between the United States and Cuba—an irreparable break.
That day, Catherine officially turned fourteen. She celebrated at home, but not with her parents—only with her friends.
"You're fourteen now, Kate. How does it feel?"
"Mm… honestly, nothing special. It just feels like time flies."
Catherine seemed a little distracted.
"Kate, could you take all your clothes off so I can measure you and make you a dress?"
"Why?"
Catherine looked at Lisa with a puzzled expression.
"It's for your birthday. Actually, I want to make a dress as beautiful as the one Marilyn wore that day!"
The dress Lisa was referring to was the one Marilyn Monroe had worn just over ten days earlier, on May 19, President Kennedy's birthday.
At the time, Monroe hadn't been wearing any underwear, and the dress looked as if it had been sewn directly onto her body.
It was said that during the tailoring process, Marilyn Monroe had been completely naked while the designer measured her in several dimensions. To ensure accuracy, she stood perfectly still for half an hour.
"Seriously?"
Catherine slumped onto the table, clearly uninterested in Lisa's so-called dream.
She looked a bit tired.
"You don't seem well. What's wrong?" Lily asked.
"Summer homework,"
Catherine shrugged.
Homework in American schools was always strange.
"Experience the life of a person with a disability for more than three days and write an essay on the protection of the human rights of people with disabilities."
Catherine rolled her eyes decisively.
The easiest assignment was definitely math—she had finished all her math homework in a single night. But humanities assignments terrified her.
Especially at elite schools like this one, teachers often assigned work without any reference materials—not even textbooks—yet somehow tied to real life.
Only one word came to Catherine's mind: completely ridiculous.
"That assignment actually sounds pretty good."
Hearing her classmates' reactions, Catherine remained noncommittal.
It was probably a cultural difference.
Catherine had lived in this world for more than a decade, but before that, she remembered two or three decades of a future China. Even now, she still hadn't fully absorbed American ways of thinking. Although she had grown accustomed to this typical American mindset, she couldn't truly adapt to it herself.
Most people found it very interesting; people like Catherine were a minority—outsiders.
Catherine understood this very well.
In fact, she had always paid close attention to American life, because business opportunities came from the details of everyday living. Only by gaining the approval of the majority could a product succeed.
"Typical American way of thinking," Catherine sighed.
"Typical immigrant way of thinking, Kate. It's not that serious," Lily said with a smile.
"Maybe. So what should I do now? Put on a cast and walk around the streets to see who discriminates against people with disabilities?"
Catherine sighed softly.
"Maybe we can help," Lisa suddenly laughed.
No. Absolutely not.
God only knew what terrible ideas they were coming up with.
"Jenny, you should be able to help Kate."
"If you need a more realistic imitation, I can make one for you," Jenny said.
"Then let's do that."
Catherine didn't want to deal with all the trouble on her own. Of all her friends, she felt Jenny was the most rational.
"Alright, let's get ready and go to Columbia Presbyterian Hospital. My mom is the head of surgery and an orthopedic specialist there, and luckily there aren't any appointments right now, so it's perfect if we go now. Mm… but I'll make a call first."
Jenny quickly made a phone call.
"Oh, by the way, Kate—what kind of disability do you want?"
What kind of disability do you want?
Why did that sound so strange?
"Uh… anything."
Jenny nodded, and at that moment, the call was answered.
With one phone call, everything was settled. Then they set off together for Columbia Presbyterian Hospital, one of the most famous hospitals in New York.
"This is my mother, Mavis White. Mom, this is my classmate—this is Catherine."
"Hello, Mrs. White," Catherine said politely.
"No need to be so formal. I'd be happy to help you with your homework, Catherine. Actually, I found it quite interesting after Jenny told me the whole story. By the way, how do the orthopedic stockings feel?"
The stockings Catherine was wearing had been designed specifically for her by Mrs. White; Lisa had nothing to do with them.
"They're not bad. But they'd be even better if the crotch were designed with a zipper," Catherine said, glancing down at the stockings on her legs.
"That's true. Even with an open crotch, wearing underwear could be inconvenient. A zipper would be better," the other woman laughed.
"Actually, Columbia University is developing artificial skin that can replace human skin, so they've been producing a lot of medical silicone lately. It seems to be coming in handy now."
Wasn't artificial skin introduced in the 1980s?
Catherine was momentarily confused, but then she understood.
After all, breakthroughs in the 1980s didn't appear out of nowhere—without long-term accumulation, how could they have succeeded? And judging by the tone, this project was most likely still in development.
Mrs. White led Catherine into the operating room, disinfected her back and arms, then folded her arms behind her, placing the backs of her hands flat against her back. She began securing and fixing them in place before applying the silicone.
Catherine couldn't see what was happening behind her, but after the "procedure," she felt as if her hands were completely immobile. When she looked to the side, both hands seemed to have disappeared, as if her body had never had them at all. However, her originally slender figure now looked slightly "filled out."
"How does it feel?" Mrs. White helped Catherine sit up and placed a mirror in front of her.
"A little uncomfortable." Catherine looked at herself in the mirror—it really felt as if she had no hands at all.
It was a strange sensation.
"Well, it's only three days. Think of it as an experience."
It was, after all, just to complete an assignment.
"If you feel any numbness or discomfort, remember to come here immediately. Be careful not to try cutting it open with a knife, as that could damage the skin. It's best to have someone massage it every night before bed and every morning when you wake up. Although it can be worn for several months, I suggest removing it completely in less than a month."
Catherine turned slightly, looking at her back. The color was a bit different from her skin—it was probably the silicone.
Come to think of it, wasn't this the era of rapid silicone development?
America's golden age had been a magical time. American technology seemed to explode with innovation, gradually spreading across the world.
Modern society itself seemed to be built on the foundations laid by the United States in the 1960s.
No wonder Americans felt so nostalgic about this era.
It was where the American Dream lived—where the future of the world seemed to be.
Mrs. White helped Catherine get dressed, leaving the sleeves empty, which looked a little awkward.
"Do you need prosthetics? They're just for appearance. I've prepared some—you might need them."
"Yes."
Even though it was only for three days, Catherine accepted without hesitation.
With her arms empty, she suddenly felt a sharp pang of panic—this was perhaps the true feeling of a person with a disability. Without hands, she felt strangely constrained.
"Remember, come back immediately if you feel any discomfort," Mrs. White warned her one last time.
"Thank you very much, Mrs. White."
They then returned to her office.
It seemed the operating room was having a quiet day—at least for now, nothing appeared to be happening.
"Oh, Kate, what happened to your hands?" Lily asked, looking distressed but unable to suppress a smile.
Catherine simply rolled her eyes.