More Tales of Sacramento at Night

When we head out into the foggy gloom of a Sacramento night, Sparky runs with boundless enthusiasm (I rarely have him on a leash), but as soon as he senses we are returning, his walking slows and he begins a dilatory meandering. Thus, while walking back on 21st Street in this morning's wee hours, the man in fatigues, trudging determinedly north with the aid of a cane, was able to catch up to us.

H. was miles from his downtown apartment. His car had broken down near City College. His muttering was a little hard to understand. He bemoaned the accident last year, when he broke his back and slashed his hand. Apparently he tried to scale the sound wall bordering the South Sacramento railroad and light rail line, got tangled at the top of the wall, slashed his hand, fell backwards, and broke his back (all the while, I guess, still caught on the wall?) The only saving grace was that rescue came quickly.

His wife was bound to be worried. She hailed, surprisingly enough, from Rwanda (I'm sure there were stories about that too, but after seeing 'Hotel Rwanda' the other night, I didn't want to press him). Like me, H. kept late hours, which he blamed on the addictive powers of 'mah jongg' games on his PC.

I asked him why he decided to scale the sound wall rather than walk around it. I don't remember the exact answer, but it went something like:

1. it was a long way to walk around the sound wall;
2. the store he wanted to visit was closing soon;
3. he apparently is no longer as young as he would like to think.

I decided to give this fellow a ride to his home. As I dropped Sparky off at my home, and went to get my driver's license, H. cackled at my car's bumper stickers and checked his blood sugar. On the ride to his apartment, he wondered whether his grand niece was working the late shift at 'Pizza by the Slice.' He got out of the car with a bit of a struggle, and disappeared into the foggy Sacramento mist. I hope he gets that car fixed soon!