“The dime,” he says. “I’m all out.”
Several people search their pockets and handbags.
“In my shirt pocket,” I say. He takes out of my pocket the dime I was going to call with before and goes. “I think someone else should go in the hardware store to also phone the police and see about the couple.”
“You think he’s going to get distracted like that ten-year-old girl?” a woman says. “He’s a grown man.”
“I know. But I’d like the double assurance that help will come.”
“Look. I know him a long time, that fellow who went. When he says he’ll do something, he does it.”
“That’s not the way I see him,” a man says. “He’s owed me ten dollars for two years now and always says he’s paying up and never does. I’ve given up on him and don’t even ask him anymore.”
“Well, I know him as a very dependable honest man,” she says. “Always pays his rent on time. Never a bill due on anything for more than a day or so.”
“Not him. Two years he’s owed me. For supplies.”
“Then you better go in the hardware store and call the police,” I say to this man.
“Right.” He goes into the store.
“You know who you just sent to call the police?” a man says to me. Several people laugh. “The worst thief of them all. He’s going to steal from that store everything that isn’t held down.”
We hear sirens. It seems the ambulance is going to pass. A man runs into the street and waves at the ambulance to stop. It’s gone.
“Someone else again must be sick or in trouble,” a woman says.
“Or that siren’s on just so they can get through the traffic quicker,” a man says. “They have that advantage over most of the other cars and use it.”
I turn myself over on my back.
“You shouldn’t do that,” a man says. “You can hurt yourself worse.”
I put my good arm under my head. Everything hurts. “You know, it’s possible those people who went to phone could all be unreliable.” I say. “I think someone else should call.”
“How many do you want?” a woman says. “If they are reliable and too many people phone the police, they’ll think we’re cranks or crackpots and never send anyone to help. Three’s enough.”
“Three are plenty,” a man says.
“Three for what?” someone new in the crowd says.
“Three people have gone to call the police for these four people in the street here and a couple who are seriously hurt in the store.”
“Three calls are more than enough,” the new person says. I shut my eyes and wait.