Guitar knew. He knew all along that Milkman, just like the others, wanted something from him too. He wanted his life. But only his laughs, not his burdens. A stupid, simple, immature type of want. A stupid, simple, immature type of… love.
He only wants Guitar who takes care of him and makes him happy. And when Guitar doesn’t, when Guitar talks about his own dreams, he shuts his ears and stops listening.
Guitar was surprised when Milkman offered to help the cause. The love. But why not let him help? Let that brat help somebody other than himself once in his life. To help the love with his love. He deserved it. He put that on himself.
But Guitar was somehow relieved when Milkman pulled the trigger in the woods. Maybe it was the guilt of using his love or a bit of lingering affection from their friendship. And that is what prompted him to put down his gun and watch Milkman at Solomon’s Leap. Solomon, Shalimar, whatever that old fucker was called. He wanted to let his man say his parting words.
It does not matter anymore. The Day has arrived for his friend and all Guitar needs to think about now is how to get his box of TNT. He’s not done with his love yet.