“He’s really shaky,” The taxi driver told me after I had exited my car. “Will you look after him?”
I had just returned from my father’s house. I followed George inside and got him seated in his favorite chair. There were empty liter vodka bottles everywhere. George had been on a bender and it put him in the hospital.
George’s house also made my house look immaculately clean. He had really messed up things when he had been drinking. There was trash all over the floor in the den and kitchen. His tile hall had been muddied by muddy feet.
“Here is my phone number,” I told George writing it down. “Call me and I will be right over.”
“I just want to get in my bed and sleep,” George said taking off his extensive bandages.
“Do you have some smokes?” I then asked and George said yes.
I knew this would be very important.
“How about lunch? Are you hungry? I could get you a fried catfish plate down at Merl’s.”
“I am fine,” George assured me.
George ambled on outside to smoke and I followed him – his first cigarette in a week. He assured me he would call me if he needed any help. I am going to walk back over later this evening and see how he has been doing. I know he’s got to be hungry. There wasn’t anything to eat in his fridge when I looked.
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