Joel sat perfectly still. The only sound in the room was the labored breathing of the old man he had come to visit and some voices from the hallway that sounded far away and disinterested. The sunlight slanting in through the partially open blinds of the old nursing home danced patterns on the wall just above the brass headboard which had been painted white but now was chipped, adding to the desolate feel of the room.

Joel was disappointed his trip had been a waste of time but it seemed like his new normal. He leaned forward in his chair to stand up when his attention was drawn to the lone picture on the old man’s night stand. He stood and made his way across the room stopping at the foot of the bed momentarily before moving alongside the bed toward the stand. Joel kept an eye on the sleeping figure as he leaned down to pick up the picture. The side of the man’s face was an unhealthy grey covered in stubble; a dried white stain could be seen around his lower lip. The man’s breathing was less labored now but his eyes were moving rapidly beneath his heavily creased lids.

Joel picked up the picture and studied the faces of the young men standing side by side in front of a large estate he recognized from Front Street. It was a second frozen in time and as he tried to read their expressions a sudden chill ran through his body. Joel brought the photo closer to his face and stared intently at the second story window of the house behind the wrought-iron fence. It was there, almost buried in the graininess of the old black and white photo. A face in the shadows, hauntingly staring back at him. Joel said half aloud to himself “what are you dreaming about old man, what are you dreaming about.”

The picture frame was old and of good quality judging by its weight and patina, and if he had to guess would say made out of silver. He turned the frame over and looked at the faded felt backing. Three metal swivels held the backing to the frame, one was broken and he could tell from the worn felt around the others that the backing had been removed many times.

Joel slid the three good swivels clear of the backing and placing one hand on the felt turned the frame over releasing the backing and picture from the frame. He quietly set the empty frame back onto the stand before inspecting the photograph. There appeared to be some type of marking along the bottom right edge of the picture which had been covered by the frame. Joel slid the photo up slightly so that he could lift it by the edge separating it from the backing. As soon as he lifted the photo a small square piece of laced fabric slid toward the edge of the backing and nearly fell to the floor.

The lace was black and had a floral design with bold dark lines outlining the edges of the flowers and leaves. A delicate almost transparent netting style weave between the patterns held the designs together. The piece was cut or torn from something larger because three edges were uneven and frayed. The remaining edge had uniformity and a smooth curve which hinted at what the item may have originally been.

The fabric had been handled a lot and in a couple places the darker patterns were nearly as transparent as the netting. Joel gingerly picked up the fabric and held it up to the light of the window across the room. The worn area  looked like it had been caused by someone holding the fabric between thumb and forefinger.  Joel lined his finger and thumb up with the worn area and it nearly matched the wear pattern. Why was this piece of fabric important enough to hide in a picture frame Joel wondered?

Joel stood silently for a minute and listened for any activity in the hallway outside the room before leaving and making his way down the deserted hall to the staircase. It was almost 4:00 PM and he needed to find a place to stay but wanted to get a look at the old man’s chart before he left. He had observed one nurses station on the main floor just inside the main entrance. The young girl at the station had been looking at her phone when Joel arrived and she had given him the room number for Mr. Williams without making any further inquiries as to who Joel might be.

Joel stopped at the top of the stairway to listen for voices. Hearing nothing he descended the stairs rapidly and started walking across the marble tile toward the station at a swift pace. He watched the girl as he approached and when she looked up he glanced at his watch and simultaneously quickened his pace. When he looked back up from his watch, the girl was sitting up straight in her chair watching him approach.

When Joel reached the counter he asked her for her name. “Melody” she said with an inflection that made it sound like a question. Joel said in an even tone “Melody, I am Dr. Gibbons from Minneapolis and I have an urgent appointment back in the cities, I need to look at the current medications being given to Mr. Williams.” Melody looked almost relieved because she knew exactly where that information could be found and practically sprinted to the file cabinet to retrieve the file. She placed the thick folder on the counter and returned to her seat. Joel turned to the face-sheet and made some quick mental notes from the information, thanked the girl and left.