You’re on 14th Street headed west to buy a new seat for your bicycle. In Casper, Wyoming, a hospice nurse backs her car out of your parents’ driveway. Your father calls out from his bed. What would you have done if you’d caught the thief, wrench in one hand, your bike seat in the other? “Lorraine!” your father calls again. You would’ve taught the guy another use for that wrench. Your mother carries a plate, a cup of water. “Here I am,” she sings, entering the bedroom. Last month someone stole the bell from your handlebars. Your mother cuts a muffin in half. Maybe I should buy a bell, too, you think. Last year, when your father could still walk, they took the whole bike. “Try to eat it all,” your mother says, tucking a napkin under his chin. You wait for the light to change at First Avenue. What next? Exhaust from a passing bus, roasted cashews. “This muffin tastes like dirt,” your father says. He takes another bite. The bike-shop bag goes scrish-scrish against your leg as you head home, slipping into Sloan’s for extra-sharp cheddar and a six-pack of Corona. Your father’s hand trembles, reaching for the water glass. All morning he watched a show about polar bears, then switched to the Weather Channel. A woman at the supermarket insists to the cashier, “These aren’t the Concord grapes. These grapes are organic.” “Polar bears eat penguins!” your father says. Your mother is in the den. She holds a book, but really she is napping. Now the woman with the grapes is in a tizzy: her necklace has burst; it’s raining silver charms. “It’s raining in Denver,” your father says. You scan the floor for small, shiny objects. “It’s twenty-five in New York,” says your father. Your mother is in the kitchen, counting pills. Here’s something strange: a stone trinket, an evil eye. You fear the woman might hug you as you hand it over. “Lorraine,” your father says, “I’m too tired to play my flute.” You wonder if it was bad luck to touch that thing. “Do you know the Hebrew word for ‘good deed’?” asks the woman. Your father’s face is angelic in the TV light.