It’s another two days that I don’t see Jaye. This time, when I go into his room, I’m irate and it’s at him.

“Get the fuck up.”

I’ve brought a bag of Waffle House. It’s gentle food so there’s no excuse for not being able to eat a fair bit of it.

I start him off with some tea. It’ll kick start his appetite a bit.

His cheeks are sunken in and he’s lost the color that gives him so much of his allure.

The Thai boxes are empty next to his bed. I’m guessing Gerald made him eat it, one bite at a time. That guy has infinite patience and not as much emotional investiture. He could succeed where I couldn’t do more than provide the food and tell Jaye that he needs to eat it.

Jaye looks down at the takeout plate of food and grimaces.

I pull out a second plate that’s identical. 

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