Page 32: Acting Crazy

“Christa? Harold Westerly.”

“Yes, Harold, how are you?”

“Fine, but thought I should let you know that Joe is out here in my yard seeming a bit confused. He’s walking around in circles, muttering to himself. Tried to get him to come into the house, but he keeps pushing me away.  You know how strong he is, and I was afraid he was having one of those seizures–you know, like he used to get when he’d get all crazy and stuff.”

Christa ran outside, hollered at John to get in the car, and off they drove to Harold’s farm, only about a half mile down the road.  When they pulled up into Harold’s yard, Joe was flinging his arms in the air, pacing back and forth, pounding his head.  Just as Harold had said, “like a crazy man.”  Christa approached Joe slowly for fear that Harold might be right about Joe having one of his seizures. 

Joe had been having seizures for years–ever since he had been hurt at Winona State.  It was his freshman year, and his only year, because after that, he couldn’t play football anymore. 

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