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junkie; I wanted a line of visitors at the door. But it seemed to me that my neighbour, Jerry, saw more visitors than I did.
    Then it hit me that I might be under police protection. What if the Dumpster Gang came back to finish the job. Could anybody walk in to see me? Would the nurses opposite the elevator give anybody my room number? My “wife” didn’t seem to have had much trouble.
    One day, I followed one of the nurses into the elevator and pushed the button for the main floor. Not a word was said. No one lifted a hand to bar my way. I felt proud ofmyself as I stood in my dressing gown facing the unrestricted front door.
    * * *
    “Are you busy?” It was Anna Abraham, my sometime girlfriend, whom I hadn’t seen since I don’t remember when.
    “Anna! God, I’m glad to see you! How did you find me?” Anna took a breath, as though I’d just asked an impossible question. “Oh, I know all about your secret life. I watch at keyholes, tap phones, read tea leaves, interpret bumps and warts. For weeks I’ve been studying your face in repose.”
    “I know that,” I said. “How did you first hear?”
    “There was a piece in the paper. The Beacon. Besides, I have my spies. You’re not the only one who can dig up the facts. Remember, I’m a trained researcher as well as a professor. How are you feeling?”
    “I thought I’d never see you again.”
    “I’m not that easy to dump, Benny. I stick like burrs to your pant leg.”
    “I missed you.” It was true. It seemed like a thousand years since I’d gazed at the wonderful structure of her cheekbones. And yet I retained the shadow of a memory of an earlier visit. Had she been here, or was it only in my dreams?
    “You told me so last week when I was here.”
    “You were here to see me? My head’s a bit thick, Anna. Humour me.” Sometime the bread you cast uponthe waters washes back with the first wave; she gave me a big kiss.
    “I’ve been in and out a few times. You just don’t remember, that’s all. It’s not your fault. Besides, I sometimes catch you having a nap. I like watching you sleep. It’s very restful. Did I say that before? Sorry. I’ve been missing your peculiar bachelor ways: rolled socks in the bread box, trousers under the mattress.” Her voice was brittle, like glass.
    “If you give me a minute, I’ll put my pants on and we can go for a walk,” I said. She grinned as I rolled free of my hospital corners. While I was busy finding my trousers and getting into them, a thought crossed my mind: was Anna holding something back? The clue was in her bright banter. Something more than bedside manner. It reminded me of my conversations with my brother Sam and Staff-Sergeant Sykes. Something was off balance and it wasn’t just me.
    In ten minutes, we were sitting in the café in the hospital. I had my Memory Book beside me; I felt secure. Anna was at the counter buying coffee and talking to a tall stranger with a summer hat in his hands. I held our table against all comers. And there were a few. I was beginning to wonder at my growing passivity; why wasn’t I collecting the drinks and paying the shot?
    Anna put a tray on the table. “Fellow up there wanted to know if I wished to make ten thousand dollars,” she said.
    “Sounds like a good scam. Did you take him up on it?”
    “No. I told him I was more interested in spiritual values. I got him involved in a long religious discussion. That stopped him.” She unloaded the coffee and two oatmeal cookies. After getting rid of the tray, she sat down across from me and leaned forward. “Now,” she said. “Tell me what’s new.”
    As briefly as I could, I brought her up to date on the treatment I was having to get over the trauma. I told her about my newly imposed regimen. I was now being shunted around the hospital to classes in three kinds of therapy. In physical therapy I had to walk on an irregular ramp to test my balance, climb up and down a flight of stairs, and spend twenty minutes