I hated having unanswered questions floating around me. Teasing me with what-ifs and possibilities that would never be.
He was just so…fragile. That was the word that kept coming back in my mind. He looked fragile in a way that had nothing to do with his size.
Jeanette came over to refill my coffee with a big smile on her face. She was in an unusually good mood. “Is today a pie night, Matt?”
"No, thanks. Just the check." I drummed my fingers on the table and then caught her attention before she could walk away. "That guy who just left. Is he a regular?"
"Joshua?" She tucked the coffee pot against her hip and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, he comes in every few weeks. Sweet kid. Always sits at the same stool and orders the same stuff." She glanced toward the door and something shifted in her expression. "He’s been coming in since he was a kid. His grandpa lived nearby. But…” She looked out the window, suddenly distracted.
“But what?”
She was almost startled by my question as she looked back at me. “He was kinda different tonight. Happier, maybe? And he left me a huge tip. Over a hundred bucks. His whole wallet, near as I can tell."
I frowned and sat with that for a second. "Maybe he recently came into some cash?"
"Maybe." She didn't sound convinced as she sighed and took a step back. "I think he’s had some hard times lately. Last time, his tip was all in change, so maybe he was trying to make up for some of his lighter times." She looked at the door again and then back at me. "He said I've been great and that he always appreciated my kindness. Almost sounded like a goodbye."
Fuck. That’s what I was afraid of. I was already reaching for my wallet as I stood up. “Yeah, seemed like that to me too. I hope he’s got people looking out for him.” I left enough cash on the table to cover my food and a decent tip then headed out. “Maybe I can catch up to him?”
Jeanette nodded but didn't say anything else. She didn't have to.
Outside, I looked up the road, hoping maybe he was stopped at the gas station or on the side of the road, but of course, he wasn’t. He’d taken off on Highway 1 going north, so maybe he was out for a meandering ride. I didn’t actually believe that was true, but I really wanted it to be.
I got in my truck and headed north too. It was on my way home, anyway.
I drove for maybe ten minutes before I saw it. The kid’s Harley was parked at one of the narrow pull-outs. There wasn’t a wide enough space for me to pull over, so I went about thirty yards past the bike and parked. My truck was mostly off the road, but not completely, so I left the hazards on and jogged toward the bike.
When I got closer, I could see him. Joshua was at the guardrail with his back to me and then he pushed off and started walking toward the edge.
And I ran.
I didn't stop to consider anything other than getting to him before he got to the edge. The pounding of my boots shot gravel in every direction as I moved faster than I had in a while.
When I was close enough, I shouted as loud as I could, but I wasn’t sure he could hear me over the roar of the water hitting rocks. "Stop. Wait."
Just as he lifted his foot to take that final step, my fist caught the back of his jacket, and I yanked him backward.
We both fell to the ground, and I rolled us away from the edge before sitting up to check on him. His eyes were open, but they weren't tracking right, going in and out of focus like he wasn’t fully lucid.
"Hey. Joshua." I got my hands on both his arms and held him upright. "Hey, look at me."
His eyes drifted in my direction, but not quite seeing me.
“Are you hurt? I looked around and saw two prescription bottles on the ground near the guardrail.
My stomach dropped straight through the gravel. "What did you take?"
He didn't answer as his eyes drifted shut. He swayed back, and I had to support his head to keep it from banging on the ground.
“Dammit, kid.” I dragged him over to the bottles and looked at the labels. Ativan. Oxycodone. I shook them both and they were light. Way too light. "Fuck."
When I looked back at him to ask how much he’d taken, he was already unconscious.
I picked him up and bent him over my shoulder and then ran back to the truck. He wasn't a small guy but adrenaline had a way of making that irrelevant. Even his legs bouncing on my chest wasn’t enough to slow me down. If I let down and startedto leak all over the place, so be it. I couldn’t worry about being embarrassed about such a trivial thing when this guy's life was literally in my hands.
I got the passenger door open and leaned him back on the seat so he wasn't slumped forward. My years of CPR certification kicked in, and I was already reaching into the glove box before I'd even fully registered the decision. The Narcan kit I'd put in there after the pride festival last summer might not be enough, but it was all I had. I tore open the package and administered it the way I'd watched the volunteer at the booth demonstrate and then pulled out my phone.
Joshua woke up coughing and then retching while I was trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher. I held him by the waist as he leaned over and puked all over the ground.
