have to, and it doesn't look like he can manage the walk back there anyway.
I bite my lip and decide to risk knocking on some doors.
I run up and down the block, checking on Jess every third house. He's still just sitting there. When I talk to him, he looks up at me, confused, but then lapses back into unresponsiveness. And there is nobody home.
I could call 911. But if all he needs is a few freaking crackers, that seems ridiculous, and I bet they wouldn't even come. I squat next to Jess and rub his shoulders, thinking. The red house across the street has a window cracked. Surely the situation warrants a little mild thievery? I could leave a note thanking them.
In the end, I'm too freaking terrified to leave a note. I'm sure that someone's going to drive by at any minute and call the cops. I shove the window up and hoist myself through it, falling on the floor and hitting my head. I run to the kitchen and start rummaging through cupboards, where I eventually find quite the selection of crackers. Ritz, Wheat Thins, or Triscuits? Which would be better?
I take all three boxes, and hurl myself back out the window as quickly as I can, thereby trampling these poor people's rosebush in the process. I present Jess with the options and he looks at them dully.
“Jess? Jess! Which cracker do you want?”
He blinks, trying to focus, but subsides back to his stupor. I start frantically scanning the ingredients to see which of them has more high fructose corn syrup, since this is probably the rare time when that is a good thing to have, before I decide the hell with it and shove a Ritz cracker in his hand.
Jess lifts the cracker to his mouth slowly, and begins nibbling on it. I want him to wolf the thing down he's freaking me out so much, but I figure he probably should go slowly and he knows that. Either that, or he's so out of it he can't even figure out it's food. I squat next to him as he takes his little bites, twisting my fingers and wishing I had some water to offer him.
It takes him ten minutes to eat four crackers, but by the end of that time he's looking a little better. His eyes are more focused, and I don't have to say his name three times in order to get his attention.
After he's finished, I help him up to walk it off a little bit. He still seems pretty shaky, but we walk slowly up and down the block until he feels a little steadier on his feet.
“You okay?” I ask, letting go of his arm.
He nods. “Yeah. I will be. Sorry about that.”
I stoop down to pick up my loot of cracker boxes. “What the hell happened?”
Jess flushes. “I'm, uh, hypoglycemic, remember?”
“Yeah, that much was clear. I mean, you said you snack all the time to keep this from happening—so what, you forgot?”
Jess reaches out to carry the boxes, but I wave him off, figuring he should have his hands free in case he trips and falls or something. He still looks a little pasty to me.
“Not exactly,” he mutters.
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
He sighs. “Well, I got distracted when we were leaving, so I was already kind of feeling the warning signs at Mandy's house. I should have snacked when we were there, but…”
I'm completely confused. “But what?”
“But I hate corn nuts,” he mumbles.
I shift my boxes of crackers to one arm and grab his shoulder. “Do you mean to tell me that I just ran up and down Hastings and broke into somebody's house to steal some freaking crackers because you don't particularly like corn nuts? Are you insane?”
“I don't just not like them. I hate them,” he says defensively.
I'm so flabbergasted, I don't even know what to say. I resist the urge to chuck the crackers at his face. “You're insane.”
“I'm sorry,” he says humbly. “It was really stupid. I figured I had enough time to make it back to the train before I had an episode. I'm really, really sorry. And I appreciate the, you know, B&E and all. That was above and beyond.”
“Yeah it was! I could go to jail because you hate corn nuts!” I yell.
Jess chuckles, and although at this moment I hate him and want him to choke on a Triscuit, I have to laugh too. “It would have been really