I was sitting in the front window of a coffee shop when I was pulled from my book by honking. A car was stopped in the street and everyone behind the car was honking. I saw it was Bones sitting behind the wheel of his Capris. I went out there. His car stopped and wasn’t turning over. All the honking and commotion was causing him to have a panic attack. I got a few folks together and we pushed his car to the side.
I hated to see Bones like this, lost and scared. He was shaking and was having trouble catching his breath. He was diagnosed with emphysema about a year ago and while he cut down on his smoking he never stopped. Truth be told, he is 80 plus years old and he isn’t going to quit smoking.
I just spoke of normal things while we waited for the tow truck. I know about panic attacks, as long as someone speaks of everyday things they go away. He started to relax a little; the initial fear of causing the disturbance was done. He breathing became normal, well as normal as it was going to be. I hadn’t seen him in a long time. I didn’t frequent that coffee bar where we first met. He asked about K- and about the house I bought.
I had forgotten that he was somewhat involved in the purchase of that house. When I put an offer in on the house I’m living in now I told him about it. I was nervous because they could still show the house while my offer was being considered. I had a fear someone would but in a higher offer. The realtor called me a couple days later and asked if I knew what had happened to the “For Sale” signs that were in front of the house and at the bottom of the street, I didn’t and hadn’t thought anymore of it. It occurred to me after the fact that Bones had stolen them all. “It’s bullshit they are still showin’ that house.” He told me after I asked him about it. He also called from the backyard of the house about trees that needed to be trimmed. “How’d you get in the backyard, the gate is locked?” I asked, remembering that even realtor didn’t have a key for it. He ignored the question as he gave me the low down on his impressions of the backyard “You’re gonna have to do something about them trees… and you’ll probably need a new lock on the gate” he added.
That conversation seemed like a long time ago and he looked older and worn out. After the tow truck came, I drove him to his apartment. I offered to pick him up later to get his car but he said his grandson would take him.