Chapter One   NOLAN DOWNES was nothing like what I had expected. Where he lived and what he wanted me to do was equally as surprising. Let me start from the beginning. I’m Theo Stratis. Since you can’t see me, I’m twenty-five, average height, with dark brown hair and eyes and a stocky build. Here’s my story. I had visited the local LGBTQ Center and signed up to be matched with an “elder friend.” I was given the name Nolan Downes and the address of a local nursing home. I had expected to meet a sick, perhaps dementia-ridden man wrapped in week-old unchanged diapers and lying in bed. Perhaps he’d need help being fed, or maybe I could read his favorite book to him. I had also assumed the nursing home would have stale-smelling hallways leading to tiny gray rooms with yellowed wallpaper and moldy furniture. I was certainly in for a surprise. After work one day, wearing my new iris dress shirt and gray slacks and blazer, I arrived at the nursing home’s address. Upon passing a dancing fountain and marble columns, I entered through the french doors to a lobby featuring clusters of white easy chairs and love seats next to fireplaces surrounded with ivory tile. When I arrived at the front desk, I offered the name Nolan Downes and I was directed to room 606. Suffering from claustrophobia ever since I accidentally locked myself in my sister’s playhouse, I took the stairs. I made it to the sixth floor out of breath and passed another lounge that could be featured on the cover of a home design magazine. As I entered room 606, I was taken in by the pleasant coral walls. The room housed a hospital bed, oak dresser and table, two reclining chairs, a widescreen television set, and a spa bathroom. The bay window displayed the frolicking Hudson River and stoic mountains painted golden by the setting sun. I noticed someone on the bed. I tiptoed closer and stared down at a bald little man wearing a canary jumpsuit. Since he was lying motionless, I placed my finger under his nose. There was no breath. Panicked, I pressed the button next to the bed. A few moments later, a middle-aged heavyset woman entered the room. Her dark skin contrasted with her white uniform. The nameplate on her chest read Tanisha Braxton. “Who are you?” I found my voice. “I’m Theo Stratis from the LGBTQ Center.” “That’s a lot of initials.” “The center sent me here to visit Mr. Downes.” “He doesn’t get many visitors.” “Well, he has one now.” I tried to control my shaking hands. “But he’s not breathing!” “Is that so?” I reached for my cell phone. “Should I call someone?” “Yeah. Call me a cab. If this one’s finally gone, I’m celebrating at the nearest bar!” “Baloney!” The man sat up. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone, Tanisha.” “Like I’ll miss the strep throat I had yesterday.” “You didn’t have strep throat yesterday.” “I did so. Why do you think I used your glass? Got you back!” She burst out laughing and her stomach rolled like dough. I scratched my head in confusion. Tanisha noticed. “Nolan holds his breath and fakes his death all the time. If only.” He waved a hand at her. “You’ll cry when I’m gone, Tanisha.” “With relief.” Tanisha placed a hand on her ample hip. “And it’s not enough that you torment me with your childish pranks, you had to act up in front of your new visitor?” She pointed at me. “If I were him, I’d walk out of here and never come back. Just like I’d do if I wasn’t paid this enormous salary and fantastic benefits.” Nolan wagged a brown-spotted finger at her. “If you go to college, you can get a higher-paying job.” “And then who would take care of you? You have quite a reputation in this place. Besides, my husband and three kids need me at home.” “You’re an intelligent woman, Tanisha. You deserve better than this.” “I certainly deserve better than you.” She picked up his empty snack tray.