Several minutes after Phillip left to catch a bus to work, he sent me a text message. He’d found an unconscious man, who’d apparently fallen from his wheelchair. Phillip was waiting for the aid truck to arrive and, depending on how long it took, he may have to come back home and drive to work.
I was a few minutes away from leaving. I had my shoes on and was just waiting for the minutes to count down. I grabbed my jacket, hat, and bag, and immediately left to find Phillip. For some reason, I assumed he’d found the man on Broadway.
As I approached the library, I saw flashing lights ahead. There, outside of the library, was an aid truck, a man on the sidewalk, a wheelchair, and two paramedics, but no Phillip. I took my phone out of my pocket. Phillip had sent me a message: They’re here. I replied: So am I.
I kept walking toward Broadway. Phillip replied with a question mark.
I had intended to walk to Capitol Hill Station, but as I reached the bus stop at Broadway & Republican, a 60 was at the corner, waiting for the light. It had started raining. Down the block, a 49 was picking up passengers including, I assumed, Phillip.
I rode the 60 to Capitol Hill Station and made my way down to the platform. The next train was 3 minutes away. I took a seat and replied to Phillip’s question mark, explaining that I’d left early to find him, and that I was at the light rail station. Phillip replied that he was on the bus.
The train arrived, and I went to work.