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kid. Doesn’t know what he’s in for with Ethel Hasslebarger, does he?” the first nurse said.
    â€œHer heart’s in the right place. It’s just the follow-through that she’s weak on,” the second nurse said.
    â€œHard to believe they called her out of retirement,” the first nurse added. “She doesn’t really know what she’s doing now that they’ve changed the procedures.”
    â€œThey needed someone to cover emergency calls at night,” the second nurse said. “Can’t be too choosy for that shift, I suppose.”
    â€œI heard they contacted the shelter,” the first nurse said.
    The second nurse lowered her voice. “He doesn’t have any family except the grandfather, so what else were they supposed to do?”
    Arlo thought about making a run for it, but it was pitch-black outside and cold to boot, and the only place he could go was his house — which was the first place they’d look for him. He plumped the pillow the nurse had given him and stretched out on the sofa. It was the sticky plastic kind of sofa material that made terrible noises when you shifted around on it. Sleep was out of the question, but it might be worth trying to rest. Arlo used the remote control to surf from channel to channel, finally settling on an old pirate movie.
    Next thing he knew, a large woman wearing lopsided glasses appeared in the doorway. She wrinkled up her nose, squinting around the room until her eyes finally lighted on Arlo. Then she came striding over to him, her worn raincoat dripping puddles on the linoleum.
    â€œAre you Arlo?” she asked.
    Arlo nodded, squeezing down a sigh.
    The woman stretched out a stiff arm, showering Arlo’s pants with rainwater. “My name is Ethel Hasslebarger,” she said. “I’m a social worker, and I’m here to help you.”

Ethel Hasslebarger had floppy white hair and a pink face and she was about six and a half feet tall.
    â€œWould you mind if we talk a few minutes?” she asked.
    â€œOK,” Arlo said. His stomach gurgled.
    â€œGoodness. What’s that? Do you need something to eat?”
    When she leaned closer, Arlo detected a strong odor of mothballs.
    â€œNo, thanks,” he said. “Mr. Verma bought me food downstairs.”
    â€œThat was nice of him. Well, then. Let’s get started, shall we? There’s an office around the corner we can use. It belongs to the social worker on the day shift.”
    â€œOK.” Arlo’s knees wobbled as he followed her around the corner.
    â€œHave a seat,” she said.
    Arlo sat. He waited while Miss Hasslebarger fished for a file in her large bag. She opened it and spread the papers across the desk.
    â€œAh. Here we go.” She moved a blank form to the top and pulled out a pen. “Have you talked to the doctor?” she asked.
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    â€œSo, you know your grandfather’s had a stroke?”
    â€œDr. Kessel told me they
think
that’s what it is.”
    â€œWell, of course, there are tests to confirm that. He hasn’t woken up yet, which means he’s going to be with us for a while. My job is to help you find a place to stay.”
    â€œI have a home,” Arlo said. “Thank you, though,” he added after a beat. There was no point in making her mad.
    Miss Hasslebarger’s smile grew stiff. “There’s the question of where you spend the night,” she said.
    â€œI’m fine here.”
    Miss Hasslebarger sighed. “I’m sure you’d like to stay and be near your grandfather, but we can’t very well leave you alone in a hospital like this, now, can we?”
    Arlo stared at a water stain on the table. If only he could figure out a plan to make her go away.
    â€œNo one seems to have a name for your next of kin,” she said.
    â€œThat would be my grandfather.” Arlo forced a smile.
    â€œOf course, dear. We