Two crumpled bills

The Ventra machines, where we reload our transit fare cards, can be very picky. If a bill is crumpled or torn, Ventra won't accept it. And so I have two $1's balled up in my jeans pocket, set aside for Caleb and Napoleon.

But I haven't seen them! I walked past their corner, both at lunchtime and after work, before and after the 4th cut the week in half but I saw no sight of them.

Maybe Caleb is working double shifts. He works overnights, driving a forklift at a grocery warehouse. He was enthusiastic about the possibility of covering for his vacationing coworkers. I hope that's where he is.

I hope he's not preoccupied by his wife's lingering health problems. I remember him thumping his chest through his shirt as he told me that Randi's heart is still weak ... compromised by her bout with a virus and not helped by her cancer surgeries. She tires easily and has been encouraged to use a wheelchair, which she hates. It's obvious when he talks about her that he loves her so. She's battling so much, and I'm not sure she's turned 30 yet.