He said he was getting the Lamp Out warning on the truck so I went over after getting my vaccine. No one had blocked the driveway for once and when he moved his truck so I could drive in I winced watching him get out of the truck body parts touching as much as they can on the way down purchasing safety with every successful achievement of tacticity: hand to pillar to top of the door to bottom of the window frame to door handle; leg to where the door attaches heel sliding down to the step bar: almost like a spider uses its many legs. He brought me the saddest little burlap bag with bits of tools and when I couldn't find the torx stuff he dug for an allen set in the dark piles of junk behind the bench seat "Esto sirve" - good enough. I changed the bulb. Did that change the bulb dance between driver and observer: hit the brakes, turn on the lights, reverse light, blinkers, thumbs up. Watched him climb out again like this is an army tank and got mad at myself for not planning for that. Then he needed me to write a check to the Miami Cancer Institute. He joked that he would pay for his blood transfusion unlike some of the faceless leeches he assumed did the usual. "Porque puedo" - because I can. I fucked the balancing of the checkbook properly not knowing withdrawal from deposit columns but in the end it was sorted. We talked about getting him a newer and lower car to avoid the wind flipping this Cuban spider onto a cranium that had to be Benjamin Buttoning toward baby soft and he tells me he is proud happy he sees my heart like his in the way I deal with my family and the world. He tells me to tell them no flowers give the money to Saint Jude. He saw it in my eyes through the shades knew I was not ok with counting the days giving me what I wanted what I needed what I feared to hear.