Chapter 53

“Stop,” I said to him. He froze in mid-shuffle. “Drop the cane.” He tried, he really did, but his hand had been locked like that for too long. In other words, he needed some help. From, yuck, me. “Sorry,” I said as I wrenched each finger loose from the wood, the sound of popping knuckles and cracking bones almost too much to bear. Still, eventually, the cane went from his hand to my own. “Um, thanks much.” He didn’t reply, just stared into the oblivion. “Guess your intermission went on a bit longer than expected, huh?” I got a groan for my troubles. Hard to tell if it was for my dark sense of humor or not. I was going with the latter.