I heard a horrible sound as the truck hit him full on the body. It was like the noise you hear when your car hits a dog in the road—so much louder and more solid than you expect, and then that softer, juicier afternoise, as the soft tissue bursts and the life spills out. I am ashamed to say that I didn’t see the moment of impact—only heard it—because I had ducked into a little doorway, desperate to save myself. Arthur might have found a doorway, too, if he hadn’t been so hobbled by pain, and if he had truly wanted to live.

The truck passed over Arthur’s body and kept going, down the lane and out the other end. When it had gone, I left my hiding place and went to Arthur’s side. His body was splintered on the pavement. He was broken and torn in so many places, he was like a bloody rag doll. His face was bleeding from a dozen rivulets, but you could still see the features. The mouth was trying to move. He was still alive.

“Arthur!” I wailed. “My God!”

“Eric,” he said. The voice was tiny, almost a spirit voice, there was so little life left in his body. “Eric,” he repeated.

I bent down, my ear near his mouth. I heard him whisper, the words coming in thin broken bundles. “Take care of me.”

“Breathe, Arthur. Don’t die.” I wiped the blood away from his mouth and eyes with my shirt. “Please don’t die.”

He began to speak again, but the words died on his lips. I took his hand. It was wet with blood.

An ambulance arrived almost immediately. It must have been ordered in advance. They said Arthur died on the way to the hospital. He was so battered and broken that I believe he must have died of his wounds. But I think they would have killed him if he had survived the crash. They wouldn’t let me ride in the ambulance. A plainclothes cop pushed me away, and then I ran. I was afraid they would kill me, too, and I didn’t want to die.

When I reached a phone, I called the U.S. embassy. The duty officer sent a car for me right away. When he asked me to describe what had happened, I wasn’t sure how to begin. The truth was so complicated. I thought of Arthur’s last words to me, not really sure what he had meant, and resolved I would try to take care of him better in death than I had while he was alive.