A man waves us down as we approach the scene.
“Hurry! He’s really sick!”
Yeah, famous last words.
“He’s in here.”
A man is sitting on the couch. He looks fidgety and a little uncomfortable. I wouldn’t call it “really sick.” A light bulb flickers over my head.
“Sir, I know you.”
It’s one of the neighborhood transients. What he’s doing here in this man’s run-down ground-floor apartment, I don’t know. None of my business anyway.
“What’s the matter with you today?”
“Well, can you be more specific? ‘Sick’ covers a lot of stuff…”
“I ran out of money for heroin. I don’t feel good.”
“That’ll do it every time. Get on the gurney.”