Good Friends

It didn’t feel light‑hearted when two acquaintances suddenly began living together. One, who was experiencing psychosis, needed an inexpensive place to stay. The other, who is autistic, had already endured a lot of turmoil in his relationships. The autistic roommate’s rigid routines clashed with the psychotic roommate’s erratic behavior. Neither realized they were embarking on a strange, almost mystical journey toward partnership. The older roommate, then in his prime years, could see the direction in which the younger man’s life was heading. They tolerated each other’s mood swings and, for years, could barely hold a conversation. Over time, the psychotic roommate entered treatment and began to recover. Fast forward twenty years: the recovered man is now caring for the aged homeowner, trying to keep their dilapidated house together despite having no outside caregiving support. On a particular day, the homeowner’s schedule is packed with business calls. There was a support video meeting for the recovering roommate. The latter brings home Chinese food from the deli at a nearby grocery store—a reminder of the elder’s earlier fondness for trips to Chinatown. Unfortunately, the dish—sweet‑and‑sour chicken—is the homeowner’s least‑favorite Chinese meal, yet he eats it anyway. Later, the recovering roommate hands over to the elder his nighttime medication and vitamins. The house feels cold and dim, as the light bulbs in the hard‑to‑reach corners remain unchanged. The elder settles onto his couch, cocooned in comforters and pillows, while the recovering roommate works on fabric crafts and listens to The Duke’s Children audiobook. After the younger one takes his life‑saving night medication, they both retire to bed, knowing that tomorrow will bring another day.