—So why are you here? The doctor looked into his ears, listened to his heart, opened his mouth wide with a wooden stick and asked Don Chan to say aaaah.

—Beats me, Don Chan said, and he folded his arms against his chest.

—Doctor, this man, I mean, my father, has never had a checkup in his life. And he came from D.R. a year ago after his wife died, and now my husband…

—My son…Don Chan attempted to fill in.

Esperanza was about to cry and Don Chan was fidgeting in the chair. What could anyone tell him about himself that he didn‘t already know? Time was catching up with him. It was inevitable. The end of the world was a sure thing. Why not his life? He wanted to go home. But now he was stuck here for the last of his days.

—Enough, Don Chan said and got up from the chair. —I‘ll wait for you outside.

Don Chan watched Esperanza talk to the doctor from the waiting room. Don Chan searched through the headlines in the newspaper.

NEW YORK OFFICER SAID TO BE CLEARED

IN FATAL SHOOTING

CAN IT BE? PROGRESS IN MIDEAST TALK?

CUBAN PILOT DIVERTS AIRLINER TO FLORIDA;

48 SEEK ASYLUM

—What do you think, Doctor? Should I worry? Esperanza asked.

—Everything looks fine to me. I‘d like to get some urine samples, but he looks great. How old is he?

—No one knows for sure. He‘s always forgetting things. Like the year, our names, nothing major, I don‘t think.

—Here‘s a prescription that should help with his memory lapses. He might have had a mild stroke. Strong enough to cause some confusion. But I‘m afraid aging is normal.

—But a month ago, he looked like this.

Esperanza held up the photograph of Don Chan from a few months before, to show a glowing Don Chan who raced Santo to the car. Not so long ago, he arm-wrestled two men and won himself a sack of rice at the bodega. She put the photograph so close to the doctor‘s face, he had to take two steps back.

—He was fine when my husband was alive. Esperanza‘s eyes teared up all over again. She looked around the doctor‘s tiny office in the clinic, wondering if the mind could make the body age so fast. —His wife died not even a year ago and now his son. Maybe it‘s too much for him, Esperanza said and wept softly, trying very hard to keep her composure in front of the generous doctor who now had many people waiting for him in the room outside.

—I can see why you‘re concerned. He certainly does not look like the same man in this photo.

The doctor scrunched up his face with curiosity. —Who can understand nature? he said with a tinge of curiosity in his voice. —Death provokes all sorts of enigmas.

—The trauma of death, Esperanza said aloud, checking in on Don Chan, whose hands trembled as he tried to hold the newspaper up.