The night that Buck broke down wasn’t really different from most other nights. Later, at a far distance, he would see that night as an accumulation of nights . Of moments and conversations and expectations.
“Don’t come near me, Sissy!” The tone of Buck’s voice alarmed me.
“Buck?:” I impulsively moved closer to him.
“Don’t come near, Sissy.”
“What should I do, Buck? Let me call somebody?”
I sensed him in some faraway place. “I’m going to call the EMS people or something, Buck. Just hold onto my hand, sweetie Just hold on.”
And he did, thank God.