“It’s been a long time.”

“Four years, John,” I said, putting a bag of fresh red apples on his bedside table.

He blinked slowly at the autumn sun coming through the window screen.

“Bob doesn’t come down to Canton anymore.

I figured maybe he forgot how to get here.”

“He told me your kitchen pipe broke last night,” I said.

John gave a single shake of his head, his scratchy voice hardly louder than the hum of the radiator.

“The plumbing here belongs to the county maintenance department.