As it turned out, it was one of those angry bushes with small, hard, pointy leaves sort of like a million serrated knives. I forget what you call that kind of bush, but I see them a lot around Christmas time. Anyway, he fell right into it and though he didn’t make a sound, one look and I knew he was in a heck of a lot of pain.
“Oh boy I am sorry!” I said and I extended a hand to help him out of the bush.
Once on his feet again I could see he wasn’t quite as old looking in person. Maybe that was because his eyes were filled with tears and his once nicely combed hair was now messy and hanging in heavily gelled clumps.
“You alright?” I asked.