My mother got angry about Eleanor and burst into her room. She hadn't been out in years. I went in too and found her sitting in a corner, limp, in a black bathrobe. When she exploded at us it was with pure rage. I drew the curtains. My grandmother wouldn't admit anything was happening.
Now he took me upstairs and said he would call his friend from AT&T, who would know how to fix it. He called, but his friend wasn't there. He was about to offer to do something else, but I told him I thanked him for his effort, and that it would be okay if he gave me the leatherman now, and left me his friend's number so I could call him later. (I didn't plan on using it.) I now had my leatherman, and since it was further broken, I no longer knew how to fix it.
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