coming to pick you up. Coco has offered to stay with you until—until your eyes are better. Mr. Cooper has offered to drive Aaron to school. They’re transferring me to the VA for a few days. They want to monitor my blood pressure, plus there’s this sore on my leg, and…”
Bobby breathed a sigh of relief and let his attention drift. He found it was pretty easy to do when he couldn’t see the speaker.
What might have been hours or maybe only minutes passed. His eyesight had improved to a Swiss-cheese pattern, spots of blurred light poking through shadow. It wasn’t exactly seeing, but it was a vast improvement over the dark, grayish black of before.
“Yo, Pendell! I’m busting you out of this joint.”
“Shit, Coco?”
“That’s a pretty sick Ray Charles impersonation you got going on, with those black shades.”
Bobby touched the glasses. “You sure know how to boost a guy’s ego, man. I want to go home and sleep cuddled up with my dog for seven days.”
“Sounds romantic.”
“Don’t knock my pup. This is the second time he saved my life.”
“You need that white cane thing on the bed?”
“Hell, no,” Bobby said. “This is just a temporary setback.”
Bobby heard Pete’s happy bark from inside the car. The moment they opened the front door, Pete bounded over in a chaos of fur, slobbering tongue, and paws. Bobby bent over and let him lick his face raw, his nose pressed against Pete’s wet one. He buried his face in fur, breathing in the smell of dog.
“Time for a treat, boy!” Bobby proclaimed. Pete barked joyfully in response, the whisk of his eager tail swiping the air like a metronome.
“Under the sink, right?” Coco offered.
“I’ll get it myself,” he snapped. Bobby had crept into the house enough nights to know his way in the dark. How hard was it to find the kitchen sink?
He shuffled across the living room, confident he knew exactly where he was headed. Instead, he walked directly into a wall, banging his nose hard. “Crap! Where’d that wall come from?”
“Whoops,” Coco said, snickering.
“Fuck off.” Bobby tried to visualize the layout of the house. He couldn’t understand how it was possible to lose his bearings in such a small space. His insides churned with frustration.
He finally made it to the sink, reached into the box and pulled out Pete’s treat. Kneeling, he waited for the sound of galloping paws on linoleum. “Here, boy. I’m still going to take care of you. No matter what.”
Bobby listened, enjoying the happy sound of Pete chomping away at his treat. After a minute, he got to his feet.
“Look, I’m sorry, Coco,” he said, unsure what direction to face. “It’s only temporary. You don’t have to dote on me.”
“Just trying to keep you from busting your nose.”
“Anyway,” Bobby said, reaching for the pantry cabinet, “there’s not much in the house. But I can fix you up some spaghetti.”
“Bobby, please…” Coco said again.
“Why do you keep repeating my name?”
“Jeez.”
Bobby felt around for the last two boxes of spaghetti. “That’s strange. There’s a whole bunch of other stuff in here, and I have no idea what it is or how it got there.”
He found his way to the refrigerator. “I have an open jar in here somewhere.” Again, the refrigerator seemed to be stocked with mysterious containers and jars.
“Wait a minute.” Bobby closed the refrigerator door, confused. And heard what sounded like giggling a few feet away from him. “Shit, Coco. Is someone else here?”
“Surprise!” chimed two female voices.
“Congratulations,” Bobby said, sourly. “Pathetically easy to surprise a blind guy. Who’s here?”
A dark blob separated from the shadows. “It’s Gabe, Bobby. I heard what happened and I just wanted to come. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I wish,” he said softly. “I wish you would have waited a day to play nursemaid. I really didn’t want anyone to see me like this.”
“There’s
Bobby breathed a sigh of relief and let his attention drift. He found it was pretty easy to do when he couldn’t see the speaker.
What might have been hours or maybe only minutes passed. His eyesight had improved to a Swiss-cheese pattern, spots of blurred light poking through shadow. It wasn’t exactly seeing, but it was a vast improvement over the dark, grayish black of before.
“Yo, Pendell! I’m busting you out of this joint.”
“Shit, Coco?”
“That’s a pretty sick Ray Charles impersonation you got going on, with those black shades.”
Bobby touched the glasses. “You sure know how to boost a guy’s ego, man. I want to go home and sleep cuddled up with my dog for seven days.”
“Sounds romantic.”
“Don’t knock my pup. This is the second time he saved my life.”
“You need that white cane thing on the bed?”
“Hell, no,” Bobby said. “This is just a temporary setback.”
Bobby heard Pete’s happy bark from inside the car. The moment they opened the front door, Pete bounded over in a chaos of fur, slobbering tongue, and paws. Bobby bent over and let him lick his face raw, his nose pressed against Pete’s wet one. He buried his face in fur, breathing in the smell of dog.
“Time for a treat, boy!” Bobby proclaimed. Pete barked joyfully in response, the whisk of his eager tail swiping the air like a metronome.
“Under the sink, right?” Coco offered.
“I’ll get it myself,” he snapped. Bobby had crept into the house enough nights to know his way in the dark. How hard was it to find the kitchen sink?
He shuffled across the living room, confident he knew exactly where he was headed. Instead, he walked directly into a wall, banging his nose hard. “Crap! Where’d that wall come from?”
“Whoops,” Coco said, snickering.
“Fuck off.” Bobby tried to visualize the layout of the house. He couldn’t understand how it was possible to lose his bearings in such a small space. His insides churned with frustration.
He finally made it to the sink, reached into the box and pulled out Pete’s treat. Kneeling, he waited for the sound of galloping paws on linoleum. “Here, boy. I’m still going to take care of you. No matter what.”
Bobby listened, enjoying the happy sound of Pete chomping away at his treat. After a minute, he got to his feet.
“Look, I’m sorry, Coco,” he said, unsure what direction to face. “It’s only temporary. You don’t have to dote on me.”
“Just trying to keep you from busting your nose.”
“Anyway,” Bobby said, reaching for the pantry cabinet, “there’s not much in the house. But I can fix you up some spaghetti.”
“Bobby, please…” Coco said again.
“Why do you keep repeating my name?”
“Jeez.”
Bobby felt around for the last two boxes of spaghetti. “That’s strange. There’s a whole bunch of other stuff in here, and I have no idea what it is or how it got there.”
He found his way to the refrigerator. “I have an open jar in here somewhere.” Again, the refrigerator seemed to be stocked with mysterious containers and jars.
“Wait a minute.” Bobby closed the refrigerator door, confused. And heard what sounded like giggling a few feet away from him. “Shit, Coco. Is someone else here?”
“Surprise!” chimed two female voices.
“Congratulations,” Bobby said, sourly. “Pathetically easy to surprise a blind guy. Who’s here?”
A dark blob separated from the shadows. “It’s Gabe, Bobby. I heard what happened and I just wanted to come. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I wish,” he said softly. “I wish you would have waited a day to play nursemaid. I really didn’t want anyone to see me like this.”
“There’s
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