The Fever Breaks

Blearily, I awoke this morning to stumble into the kitchen. Breakfast was some of Rosa's leftover chicken corn chowder. Rosa awoke and curled up on the couch to watch some television. Maggie was barking in the backyard at some perceived threat. I was freezing cold and put on a pull-over.

"Aren't you hot?" Rosa asked as I walked past to go out on the porch.

"I think my fever broke overnight and now I am cold."

"Come here and let me feel your forehead," she said.

My forehead was cold and clammy to the touch.

"You feel up to doing something today?" Rosa then asked.

"I would like to get out of the house," was my reply.

We decided to eat lunch at the diner and go hang out down at the shopping center for a few hours as we conversed and smoked our cigarillos. I was interested in talking to that homeless woman again and see if she wanted a ride down to Columbus, Georgia to the Rescue Mission. It would be a long drive, but Rosa would love to go by the mall and eat at Piccadilly's cafeteria for dinner.

I feel much better this morning making me think I had a twenty-four hour bug. Now I hope Rosa doesn't get this crud. She has been over here for two days breathing the same air and germs as I. Here is to hoping her constitution is better than mine.

I got another call from George last night.

"Just wanted to see if you wanted to come play poker over at Pookie's tonight," he said over the phone.

"You know I don't hang around that crap," was my honest reply. "I am also pretty sick."

George's girlfriend, Pookie, is a known drug user and the cohorts she hangs out with are nefarious characters. There is always a big crowd in front of her house on the porch drinking, smoking, and talking. Also, I would be the only white guy there and when a bunch of shady black guys get drunk they tend to get combative and take out their repressed past and aggressions upon me. All in all, a good time would not have been had by all. I thanked George for the sentiment and told him good night as I got off the phone.