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Well, of course, he knew who is Mom and Dad were. They were right here, and he knew they loved him. But Henry found himself not talking. He just wasn't up to it.

In his head, he spoke very proper. What was their problem? But there were other problems. Like holding a pencil. Actually, getting a grip on anything was hard.

In his dreams he was running. Running through a forest. Maybe fields. Alone. Always alone. No one to keep him from doing what he wanted. Just to run.

Back in reality, everyone was looking at him as if something was very wrong. His Mom would stare at him. He would stare back. There were a couple of friends. Well, they said they were. He didn't really know them. Especially, this girl with the long dark hair.

Josie. Henry tried to remember her name, but it didn't stick. She'd have to remind him.

Of course, there was his brother Aidan, who looked so old to Henry. Sort of. What had happened to him? There was his wife Audrey who said she and Henry used to work together at the library.

"I worked at the library?" He'd said more than once. He'd always wanted to work in a library. He seemed to recall how Audrey was lazy and possibly homeless. And now she was with his brother. He guessed it wasn't all bad. They were pretty cheerful.

Honestly, he was quite the docile sort. He was happy to see anyone. But when they asked him to move. To get up. To even think. That was a chore. He was too weak, but they kept making him struggle to walk, to move.

He couldn't dress himself. That alone was a feat he worked toward. And then to show him pictures of this guy he'd never seen before. What kind of game were they playing with him?'

Well, that fellow was dead now. Fell off an eight story building. Right in the smack of traffic. Did Henry remember any of that? Sounded like an episode on a TV show. He did enjoy watching TV. But yeah, he really wasn't into crime shows. He liked the funny ones. He liked being in bed,  watching the TV.

But people were watching him. He didn't know what they were expecting.