FYI, it wasn’t okay.
The train rolled merrily along; Benny’s withdrawals did the same. He shook. He shivered. He stopped replying to me. He mumbled a lot. Incoherent stuff. I didn’t think he could die, but, then again, I didn’t know what he was withdrawing from, apart from the world.
“Cold,” he said, a few hours in. It was the first thing he’d uttered that I understood. I’d been watching him all along. I didn’t know what else to do. It was sort of cold in there. The train was moving at a fast clip. The bullet hole was large. I had nothing to plug it with. “Cold,” he repeated, despite the fact that he was sweating.
I knew what to do but didn’t particularly love the thought of doing it. I didn’t owe Benny anything. I didn’t ask him to come along with me. I didn’t ask him to suddenly stop
