Ezra

The Group-Home staff found him

standing at the toilet, trembling,

arms ramrod straight at his side,

slacks down around his ankles.

The mirror reflected his wide-eyed

look of terror, as he whispered

“I’m trying to save your lives.”

Ezra was followed to the

Group home three months ago, by his

imaginary antagonist, Rachel, who

beamed messages into his brain.

“If you step out the door I’ll

bomb the building,” steadily

decreasing his range of movement

from the corner grocery,

to the dining hall,

his bedroom,

the bathroom,

until he

wasn’t

allowed

to

move

at

all.

Paramedics gripped Ezra’s fists

like they were handles on a large pot,

lifting, then tilting him gently onto

the gurney. The staff and residents

huddled in the front yard quietly holding

hands,

and breath,

and watched the rattling stretcher

be hoisted into the ambulance.

Naida Lavon

Feb. 12, 2021.