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in Toronto. This is the hospital where I work. Remember the Rose of Sharon? You did some work for me here last year.”
    “The Rose of …? Not Grantham General?”
    “Right! It’s Mom and Dad who have been coming in from Grantham to see you every few days. I’m putting them up at my place. My kids have never had a visit with their grandparents like this before. We’re in your debt, Benny.”
    “Did I know about this?”
    “About what?”
    “Coming from Grantham to Toronto?”
    “Benny, we just want what’s best for you! We brought you to the best place for what ails you. You needed—”
    “Forget about that ! I’m just trying to find out where I am, when I got to Toronto, and whether I was here when I got hurt. Where did I get hurt? Here or at home? What can you tell me?”
    “Benny, brother dearest, you lost me.”
    “Sorry I jumped at you, Sam. It’s just that I get confused. I’ve been looking down at University Avenue all day. I know it’s Toronto. How is it that in another part ofmy head I think I’m in Grantham? Can I carry two mutually contradictory notions in my head at the same time?”
    “You’ll get through the confusion. You received your injury here in Toronto. According to the police report, you were pulled out of a Dumpster.”
    “A Dumpster?”
    “That’s right, a Dumpster. One of those large garbage-collector things. In the middle of Toronto. Do you remember that part?”
    I nodded, just to keep him going. I asked him whether he had known that I was in town, whether we had seen one another before the accident. He said that the first he heard about it was when he got a call from the cops.
    “The Dumpster was on the property of a building on Spadina Avenue, where the university owns and operates a residence for fourth-year students and graduate students. Under the O that hangs over the street. Clarendon House. I’ll show you the spot. Don’t worry.”
    “Had I been in touch with you, Sam? I mean, was I staying at your house?”
    “No. Nobody at the house had heard from you. I figure that you must have just arrived in town, since you usually stay with us.”
    That wasn’t always true, but Sam didn’t need to know that. He was faster than I was at figuring out that I must have just driven in from Grantham, where I still live and where Sam and I were brought up. The truth of the matter was that there have been times when I’ve been in Toronto and have chosen, for one reason or another, not to contactSam and stay with him. Even my damaged pate could see the delicacy of not exploring this line further with my brother.
    For some reason, Sam was making me nervous. I couldn’t put my finger on the problem. But then, I had never looked down at my brother in a hospital bed. How long did he say I had been in a coma?
    “Sam, I want to know all about what happened. You seem to be rationing the information. Tell me about the accident. Did my car run into the Dumpster?”
    “Benny, there was no accident. Your car wasn’t involved. It wasn’t a traffic accident of any kind, not a hit and run.”
    “So, it wasn’t random, not an accident?”
    “That’s right.”
    I caught my breath and looked at the remaining possibilities. “Then it was some kind of assault?”
    “That’s what we think. It wasn’t robbery; your wallet was still in your pocket with sixty-seven dollars in it.”
    “Who lives in that residence? Anybody I know?”
    “Mostly grad students with a handful of senior undergrads. The residence is at the corner of Spadina and Wessex, just north of Harbord.”
    “Place with the big letter O hanging over the street?”
    “That’s the place.”
    I remembered seeing it before, while it was being built. In fact, it became one of the sights I counted on seeing when I came to Toronto, like the CN Tower and the SkyDome. I could never be sure whether the giantletter was a design feature or a temporary part of the construction process. But it was still there when the scaffolding