“You did the best you could,” Shahla said. “That’s all you can do.”

“To be honest, if I were in his shoes, I would probably want to end it too.”

“That’s the hardest call you’ll ever get on the Hotline. The suicide calls I’ve had are like, ‘I’m going to kill myself on the anniversary of my father’s death.’ ‘Oh, when is that?’ ‘Next February.’ Okay, that’s six months away. So I figure I’m safe.”

They chuckled, which reduced the tension that had been present in the room for so long, like a compressed spring.

“I have to go to the restroom-badly,” Tony said. “I’ve had to go for an hour.”

“That’s one thing I forgot to tell you,” Shahla said. “Down the hall to the right. The key is hanging by the door. While you’re gone, I’ll fill out your evaluation form.”

“Evaluation form?” He should have known there would be an evaluation form. “I hope I passed.”

“Oh you did. With flying colors.”

***

Tony parked his car in one of the two carport stalls allotted to his townhouse and noted that Josh’s car occupied the other one. He had hoped Josh would be out. It was too much to hope for that Josh would be asleep at this hour. He didn’t feel like talking to his roommate-housemate-he had to quit thinking like a college boy. After all, he had been out of college for almost ten years.

He opened the wooden gate leading to his small brick patio. The sliding glass door to the house was open. He slid open the screen door. As he entered the house, he saw light emanating from the living room and heard the sound of the television set. Blaring. Explosive. Bang bang bang. Not a good sign. On the other hand, if Josh was fully involved in one of the ultra-violent movies he loved, maybe Tony could whoosh past him and race up the stairs without being detained.

“Hey, Noodles. Where you going so fast? I want to hear about your evening.”