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We had a quick breakfast and then got dressed. I loaded the wheelchair into the trunk of the car while Molly used her phone to figure out where there were local yard sales.
We lucked out, finding a neighborhood that was having a community sale. Nearly every house had some kind of something out to sell for cheap.
Once Mom was in her chair, I pushed her to the first house. They didn’t have much, but at the second house Molly found a shirt she loved and Mom got a handheld mirror that reminded me of a princess movie. She liked that kind of stuff.
We were at the fourth house, my family looking at a bunch of knickknacks. On the ground near a card table, in a plastic bin, were two old cameras, one of them a Polaroid. Not one of the newer ones that were made to look vintage, but an actual old-school Polaroid, and the other… Well, I didn’t know what it was, but it looked cool as hell.
“It’s a 1950 Rolleicord,” an older gentleman said.
“Does it work?” I hoped that wasn’t a stupid question. Maybe it was too old to work.
“Yep, it does. I used to consider myself an amateur photographer in my day. I’m too old now to do much with it. Don’t have any family or anything. I’d love for it to go to someone who would show it some TLC. Do you take photos?”
“No, but my…friend does. Well, he used to. He’s fallen out of it a bit, but he’d like to get back into it.” At least, that’s what he’d said. I hoped I wasn’t jumping the gun here. “I think he would really like this, and he would definitely take care of it. Maybe it would be just what he needs to get back into taking photos.” Or maybe I was out of my damn mind. If Harrison wanted to take photos, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t go out and buy a camera himself, one that wasn’t old and might not work. And even if it did work, the thing might take shitty photos, but…it just felt like something he would enjoy. I wanted to do something special for him. I wanted him to know how much his friendship meant to me.
“Sounds like it wandered into the right hands, then.”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “I think so. How much is it?”
“Four hundred dollars.”
Shit. I closed my eyes, the excitement I’d just felt plunging into frustration. “Oh. I didn’t realize… I’m sure it’s worth it, but I don’t have that kind of money.” Fuck, I hated this. Hated that I couldn’t just spend money on someone who meant something to me, someone who’d done so much for me.
I set it down.
“Three fifty?” he asked.
“I don’t want to take advantage of you. That’s a great camera.”
I turned to walk away, but he stopped me with his words. “Money comes and goes. I’m eighty years old, and the things I remember are moments—spending time with family and friends. Taking photos with that camera. I get it. I’m not telling you to do something you can’t afford, but…but I can tell you want it, and I think your friend would give it a good home. That’s more important to me than the money. I want someone to love this camera and to make memories with it like I did.”
I was struck dumb for a moment, unsure how to respond. He was right. Harrison would fall in love with the gift. I didn’t know how I knew it, but I did. And he was special to me. I couldn’t tell him that, but maybe this camera would.
“Don’t decide right now. I’m going to hold on to this. I don’t need to sell it anyway. You look over your finances, and if you can make it work, come back, and it’ll be here.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t. When you get to my age, you learn to trust your gut. That’s what I’m doing.”
He walked away just as Molly and Mom approached. “What was that about?” Mom asked.
“Nothing.”
It was about ten that night before I let myself think about it again. Mom and Molly had just gone to bed. I was lying on the couch in the dark. The house was only two bedrooms. We’d shared when Molly was younger, but now she was twelve and I didn’t want to take up her space.
I wondered what Harrison was doing. I hadn’t talked to him since Friday morning when I’d left his house for work.
I’d thought about calling my bank and looking over my bills and such again, but I hadn’t. It would just piss me off. I would either do this, or I wouldn’t.
My fingers lingered over the screen by his name. I figured he was awake, but I didn’t want to call, and I shouldn’t be so needy that I wanted to talk to him, anyway. Still, I opened a text. Hi.
