a Friend?

Ed is my friend. I think.  A fellow Southsider, he works for a national grocery chain.  I see him on a regular basis at church and sometimes at the Community Center. He is one of the nicest fellows you’d want to meet.  He tried to kill me not long ago.

Awhile back, a team of people that included Ed, me, and several other folks helped a local pastor move. Pastor Don had arranged to borrow a large box truck that was equipped with a lift-gate on the back. Being as how the entire team was, I’m pretty sure, over fifty, we were happy that we would not have to do any lifting into and out of this good sized truck. The entire process of moving Pastor Don’s stuff went off without a hitch until late in the afternoon.

We were at the new house and unloading the last of the furniture. There was a stack of drawers from a dresser that my friend Ed got off the truck. I paid no attention to what Ed was doing as I grabbed my own load of things and turned right and away from the truck. I felt a sudden, eerie sensation beginning with my feet not moving. That is not a problem most of the time, except my feet forgot to tell my body to stop moving as well. In slow motion, my body fell forward as my feet remained as if cemented to the driveway. The process took an awful long time until I managed to figure out that the box that Ed had gotten off the truck was the reason why my feet stopped moving. He had put the drawers on the ground right next to the truck and now I was in the process of falling over them.

When I landed (also in slow motion), I realized that something bad had happened to my left hand. One of the nails that held the drawers I was carrying together had “conveniently” come lose and tore my hand just at the wrist and had done even more damage on my left pinky finger. Had the nail been a little better aimed, it would have punctured the veins in my wrist and I would have been a goner for sure. As luck would have it, I survived.

Ed was apologetic and we had a good laugh about it. I told him he should be more creative the next time.

Advertisements