Gabriel’s defenseless, motionless body had slid halfway down the bed. Natty was rolling him onto his side to finish changing his Depends. She hadn’t drawn the privacy curtain, so the Nobel Prize-winner’s half-naked front was on display for anyone passing in the hallway. Gabriel’s eyes were glazed over and blinking. His lips were chapped, and a long strand of drool fell from his lower lip.

Natty stood behind him, wiping his backside. “It’s so hard to roll him,” she said, noticing Harry’s presence. “He doesn’t help out at all, man.”

“He can’t help,” Harry replied.

Natty—who, after a series of bad reports, had recently been taken off the night shift and moved to three-to-eleven so that the administration could keep a better eye on her—rolled Gabriel back onto his back.

“I’ll take it from here. You’re… um, kind of being too rough.” Harry stepped in and finished the job then gave Gabriel a boost back up the head of the bed.

“Fine by me, honey.” Natty sneered. “Guy was always an ass, anyway.” She started for the door, but after a sharp glare at Harry, she went into the bathroom and washed her hands. When she came out, she seemed to notice Katie for the first time. “You new?”

“Hi,” Katie said. “Nice to meet you. I’m K—”

“So, this guy?” Natty jutted a ruddy thumb at Gabriel. “This dude is a fucking ass, just so ya know. Hit me with his stupid cane once, the damn—”

Harry scowled. “Don’t talk about him that way, Natty. He’s right here.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, he can’t hear us. The guy can’t even wipe his own ass. God, Harry, you’re always so damn protective of this dude.”

“Helping these people is my job,” Harry muttered, adjusting his glasses. “And yours, too.” He pulled the sheet up over Gabriel.

Harry squared his shoulders. For too long, he’d allowed Natty to step on him, to push him around, to insult the residents, and to infect the nursing home’s general morale like a terrible disease. It was time to speak up. “Um, Natty. One more thing.”

She stopped in the doorway. “Yeah?”

“We need to treat these people like human beings. You gotta realize, these old folks have had long lives, and all they want is someone to take care of them in their time of need. That’s what being an LNA is all about. These are people, Natty, good folks who just had some bad luck. And no offense, but if you can’t do that, if you don’t like taking care of people, maybe you should look for another job.” Harry adjusted his glasses again. “And just so you know, if I see you mistreating a resident again, I’m going to report you.”

Natty snorted and shook her head. “Ass,” she said, leaving the room.

Katie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Nice.”

Harry shrugged sheepishly and smiled. He then grabbed a wet cloth and cleaned the drool from Gabriel’s chin.

“You did the right thing,” Katie said. “It was really cool of you.” She gestured at the bed. “So this is Gabriel Schist?”

“Yep.” Harry nudged Gabriel’s arm. “Hey, buddy. This is Katie. She’s going to be working here with you now.”

She waved. “Hiya, Gabriel!”

Gabriel didn’t respond, but he never did. Even a visit from his daughter wouldn’t prompt a reaction.

“Nice to see you today, sir,” Harry said. “Hope everything’s okay in there.”

It was depressing. The Gabriel lying in that bed hardly resembled the Gabriel who had once wandered the corridors in his familiar detective getup. He weighed less than a hundred pounds, and every bone in his body jutted out.

But his eyes were the worst part. Once, they had contained a vibrant, otherworldly spark. But the two blinking orifices that remained in his skull were completely drained of life, empty, vacuous glass balls.

Katie walked over to look at the collage of graphs, awards, and photographs on the wall. She pointed at one photo. “I like this one. Is this him? Wow, he was a handsome guy.”

Harry joined her. It was a picture he’d never seen, so Melanie must’ve brought it in recently. “Oh yeah. That’s him, all right.”

The image was of a younger, happier Gabriel sitting astride a motorcycle and gazing up at the sun. He wore a leather jacket, blue jeans, and a perfect suntan. He was grinning and giving the camera a thumbs-up sign.

“This is cool,” Harry said. “Really cool. You know, he totally was an awesome person. All the way up until…”

Gabriel sputtered and gasped as if he were choking. Harry froze in shock.

“Gabriel?” Harry whispered. He hurried back to Gabriel’s side.

The old man’s eyes were still lifeless. But his lips were moving in a way that they hadn’t moved in over five months. “Lissss… ennnnd… no…” Gabriel made a gurgling noise as if he were trying to clear his throat. “Lisss… ssss… listennn… nnn…”

Listen. He’d said the word listen.

“Gabriel!” Harry cried. “I’m here, sir. I’m listening.”

“Harry?”

“Yes, it’s Harry. I’m here, Gabriel.”

“Lissssten, Harry… nnn… nothing ever ends. Jus… just turn the hannndle… of the next door… hold our breaths … and then… we’ll see what happens.”

He’s in there. He’s talking! Harry clutched the photo tightly. “What? Gabriel. I don’t understand.”

Gabriel continued blinking but said nothing. Harry glanced at Katie. She looked as stunned as he felt.

“Gabriel,” Harry said forcefully, “I know you’re in there.” He seized the old man’s hand. “Please, are you in there, sir?”

Tears stung the corners of Harry’s eyes, and he brushed them away. They were embarrassing, especially in front of the cute girl, but he couldn’t help it. Harry squeezed Gabriel’s hand. “Gabriel, I miss you. We all do.”

Drool spilled from the side of Gabriel’s mouth, and Harry wiped it away with a cloth. Maybe Gabriel was in there, but if so, he was trapped. Harry had worked in healthcare long enough to accept that when people reached that level of decline, they didn’t come back. No matter how much you might want them to, they didn’t.

Harry looked back at Katie. “See, he was—”

Gabriel whistled a cheerful little melody just like the one he used to whistle in the hallway. Harry turned and stared. Something was different about the old man’s face. It looked almost like his real face again.

Gabriel focused on Harry and smiled a big, happy smile, just like the one in the photograph. “Harry… don… don’t worry… about me.” The old man’s eyes became moist with tears. “I’m going upstairs.”

His eyes lost their spark again. The smile remained, but Gabriel was once again lost somewhere in that big old head of his. Harry started sobbing. Katie came over and grabbed his hand. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Harry studied the photograph in his hand, trying to reconcile that bright, happy young man with the shriveled old one in the bed beside him. When he looked back at Gabriel’s dulled eyes, a surreal vision flashed into his mind. It wasn’t a memory of his or anything he’d ever seen. The image was real, as real as the sun on a hot summer day.

Harry saw a wide black expanse, like outer space, dotted by a sea of stars. And somewhere out there, Gabriel was sitting on his motorcycle. Not the skeletal Gabriel lying in Bright New Day but the younger Gabriel in the photograph, the redheaded rebel who had cured AIDS.

The younger Gabriel’s motorcycle had been parked on some kind of road that glowed white and spiraled upward in a variety of impossible angles, curves, and twists. Harry had the feeling that Gabriel had been following the road for a long time and that he was finally getting near the end of it. That moment in which Gabriel had seen Harry, when his eyes had been alive again, was just the old man taking a break to say goodbye.

The engine roared, and Gabriel blasted off, burning rubber on the impossible loops and curves of the glowing pathway. He sped away into the distance, laughing with unrestrained glee.

The last thing Harry saw was how fantastically radiant the sun was as Gabriel’s motorcycle did a circle around its perimeter. The sun’s light was so bright that it made the glowing highway through space, Gabriel’s highway, appear even paler.