Matthew didn’t know where he was going. He strolled down the busy road on a Friday morning. He was shirtless, his white skin looking like a ghost in the dark. It was the first time he’d been outside in a long time. He wasn’t even sure where he was. Sure, this busy road felt familiar. His mind flashed on a time years ago – him driving through the drive-through of Arby’s with his friends. This time around, he wasn’t even sure how he got here. There were ketchup stains on his jeans. The homeless guy on the corner couldn’t stop thanking him for some reason.

He walked up to the bus stop where a woman sat on the bench. She wore a long coat and had long hair. Matthew felt a spur inside him as he watched the woman, who’d fallen asleep. She opened her eyes as he stood there watching her. “Here, take this.” She unzipped the large bag beside her and handed him a sweatshirt. “And use this for the stains on your jeans.” She handed him a pack of wet wipes. “You waitin’ for the 25-North?” she asked him, unsuspecting. “Someone’s following me” Matthew said as he looked over his shoulder. “Well honey, you’re in luck. Here’s the bus. Come on.” The woman looked past Matthew and saw the yellow headlights of the bus. The woman felt compassion for the man. “Stick with me,” she said, as she walked in front of Matthew and headed toward the bus. Matthew saw a lone beanie cap on the bench as the woman stood. He grabbed it and put it on his nearly bald head. He followed the woman onto the bus, no longer shirtless or capless.

Ten minutes later the bus pulled up to a one story brick building. The woman carried her bag in one hand. Matthew noticed she wore high heels and walked with authority. He followed her. “Welcome, Dr. Collins,” a man said to the woman when they entered the building. “The investigation will begin over here,” he went on to say. “Stay here and I’ll be back in an hour,” the woman told Matthew, after handing him a cup of coffee. She walked away, leaving him to sit alone in the lobby.

The woman joined a group of people in suits and ties behind the closed door. “He disappeared a week ago,” one proceeded to say. “Let’s begin the tour,” Dr. Collins said, as she lead the group out of the room. In one of the rooms of this building there was a woman in nursing scrubs, lying in a bed. Another staff member complained openly to another about her missing wallet. Dr. Collins spent a few minutes talking with the pharmacy technician. A bin of pills had been untouched for the past two weeks. The name on the bin was Matthew Zeldik.

Dr. Collins returned to where she’d left Matthew. He was sitting in the lobby crying. “Matthew, it’s okay. You’re home.” The woman in the scrubs, Taya Brown, was a nurse at the facility. She’d been withholding Matthew’s medicines for at least two weeks, forcing him into a psychotic episode. Two other nurse aides had turned off the alarm system a week ago, allowing Matthew to sneak out unnoticed one night when he was delusional. Matthew had managed to take Taya’s wallet. She’d only had five bucks to her name, the five dollars Matthew had given to the homeless man he’d seen on his escape.

Taya was fined and her license revoked. She’d been essentially living in the nursing home, having taken Matthew’s room, because she was broke and couldn’t afford her own rent. Dr. Collins was the newly appointed director of medicine, the one now in charge. She rescued Matthew from his schizophrenic episode and brought him back home. The other two aides were also fired. Matthew was returned to his old room and restarted on his medications. He felt secure. He was given a new job in the home as the laundry man, for he appreciated his shirts and clean jeans more than ever, after having lived on the street that week. ~