If you wanted to visit the Sunrise in Gotham Senior Living Center from Manhattan, you had to make your way up through the city to Marble Hill, the only Manhattan neighborhood on the mainland instead of the island. Unlike the streets of much of Manhattan, and more like the streets of the Bronx, Marble Hill had houses with porches, spacious lots with lawns and trees. The center itself was nicely situated on the top of a knoll overlooking the Hudson, high enough that the center’s numerous windows were filled with sunlight from sunrise to sunset. The people at the Sunrise in Gotham Senior Living Center believed in the power of the sun to brighten moods and illuminate the dustiest corners of the mind. They also believed in daily exercise, good nutrition, lively entertainment, clean, comfortable quarters, and pleasurable company. It was the finest memory-care center in all the five boroughs, or so the brochures said.

Benjamin Adler found it pleasant enough. He enjoyed the large sunny rooms, the “Bop to the Beat” exercise classes, the plentiful, if a tad bland, food. The center had a variety of pets—therapy animals—that visited the residents, including four dogs, three miniature ponies, two very large and floppy cat-rabbits, and Norma the Llama, who had spit on only one resident during her tenure so far, old Mr. Mitchell. (Since many of the residents and even some of the staff were tempted to spit on old Mr. Mitchell, no one got too worked up about that.) They also had a small Morningstarr Machine, a miniature Roller that cleaned up the trash, that the residents called Simon. “Hello, Simon!” they would say, and Simon would do a strange but charming whirl before cleaning up the crumbs and debris. Sometimes the center brought in cover bands to play Chubby Checker or Beatles tunes, and the residents would twist and lindy on creaky knees. Other times, the center brought in a violinist or a singer, and the residents would close their eyes and remember long-ago concerts with husbands and wives, dance performances of children and grandchildren who could never visit enough, even if they came every day.

Now Benjamin sat in his favorite spot by the window, watching a rather determined squirrel drag an entire bagel across the lawn outside. The people at the Sunrise in Gotham Senior Living Center did their best with the food, but the bagels, oy. Not so good.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Adler!” said one of Benjamin Adler’s favorite aides. Her name began with a G. Gloria? Gracie? Gwendolyn!

“Good-bye!” he said, pleased he’d remembered her name.

“Good-bye, already? I’ve got a few more hours yet,” Gwendolyn replied cheerfully. She tapped the puzzle book in front of him. “How’s the puzzle coming?”