“It's time for the meeting, Isaac,” Officer Corey says between sips of coffee, “Subway or squad car?”<br/><br/>Isaac places a black rook adjacent to the white queen's bishop , “Subway, Simon. Always the Subway.”<br/><br/>“I forget why I ask most days,” The large officer says. A smile spreads across his dark face as gazes at the little plastic chess piece.<br/><br/>Isaac takes a small sketchbook off a shelf and tucks a large umbrella under his arm. Simon helps him put on his jacket and muffler, and the two step out into the hallway.<br/><br/>Six months of living under house arrest, no trips without police supervision. Doctor's orders. All for the best. And it has been. But it's coming to a close, and Isaac is dreading it. Everything is scaled back to an officer in the apartment to keep track of Isaac's whereabouts. To make phone calls and smoke cigarettes. To keep things punctual. Simon Corey is the only one who still accompanies him anywhere anymore. Simon is a blessing.<br/><br/>The subway car speeds under and through the city, hovering smoothly over the magnetized track. Isaac stares out the window as the city flashes by between gaps of darkness. Where did all the time go? And what good had he done with it? A year is still missing from his life. A small portfolio of images he'd drawn from dreams and memories were all the leads he had. Where will he sleep when the officers leave for good? The apartment is too empty for one person. Too many little sounds.<br/><br/>50th Street,” the car's speakers announce.<br/><br/>"That's us,” Simon says, tugging on Isaac's arm. The two step onto the platform moments before the doors close. With a slight rush of air, the subway accelerates, and disappears into the tunnel.<br/><br/>This group session, maybe it's the solution. Maybe it's the next step. The medication keeps Isaac's head from reeling like it had in the hospice. But, there is still that little movement at the edge of sight, the whisper at the edge of sleep. The unseen eyes boring into the back of the head.Simon opens the door of the library and pats him on the shoulder.<br/><br/>"I'm off, I think it's gonna be Officer Carroll tonight, so take it easy. No rush to get home.”<br/><br/>Isaac glances up at the black, billowing clouds above.<br/><br/>"Whatever the weather permits, Simon,” he steps into the library.<br/><br/>The room is large and empty but for the few chairs and their occupants, and Isaac is very conscious of the clack of his footsteps as he crosses the marble floor to an empty chair and takes a seat. Two women, and two men, each one's appearance contradictory to the other. Isaac gives the four a nod as he removes his muffler and folds it over in his lap.