The Free Lunch
He stepped in front of the gentleman and slid his credit card, ringing up the fast food meal that the poor old man was struggling to count his change to pay for. The elderly man stuttered in protest at the benefactor who laid a hand gently on his stooped shoulder and smiled. "It's nothing, sir, enjoy your dinner."
When he stepped out of the establishment the man's phone rang in his coat jacket. One hand on the take out bag and the other delving into his pocket for the phone, and he missed the car that rounded the corner too fast, shooting through the red light.
The driver of the car didn't have an opportunity to swerve when the man stepped out into the intersection. His takeout bag of food spilled across the pavement leaving an arc of french fries like a beacon onto the black road.
The elderly gentleman rushed out of the diner toward the younger man, he limped as he ran, his hat flew off and he had an old phone he yelled into, "Is this 911? We need an ambulance at the corner of James and 12th Street! Hurry! A man's been hit by a car!!"
The young man lay inert, blood streaked his jaw and the left side of his head. His curly hair was already beginning to matt with blood coagulation. A deep red gash trailed his hairline to the jaw. The old man bent down to kneel by the man. His lips moved silently and he checked for signs of life. Men and woman approached the scene, pressing in and peering at the man. He yelled at them to give the man space.
An ambulance finally arrived and two police cars. The driver of the car who hit the man was a young man with terrified eyes showing signs of a chemical dependency, he thought from his standpoint.
"Do you know this man?" The tall officer approaching asked the elderly man.
"Well, not really," he said, his voice wavering, "but he bought my lunch in there today." He gestured back towards the diner. The officer nodded and took his name and phone number as the EMTs loaded the victim into the ambulance.
"I'd like to know he's alright, " the old man requested. The officer nodded his head and went to speak again to the terrified driver of the car.
The old man walked slowly to the park clutching his lunch bag and listening to the fading sounds of the siren as he prayed for the kind man who bought his lunch to be alright.
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