When she entered his room she found him seated on the edge of his bed with the curtains drawn. The room was dark, gloomy and smelled of tired air and night sweats. "A no sunlight zone in here today or can I open a window?" she asked gently.
"Do as you please" came from a throat constantly hoarse from years of misusing alcohol, cigarettes and another night of yelling in his sleep.
She moved quickly across the room, pulled back the curtains and opened the window before he had a chance to change his mind. "Why do you say that?" she asked taking a moment to inhale the fresh June air. Lungs full, she turned and seated herself beside him. "It's such a beautiful day. Won't you come and sit by the window, if only for a few minutes?"
"Why? What difference do you think it'll make?" he raised the pointer finger of his left hand to his temple and tapped. "There are times when the darkness is in here, there isn't any light, not behind curtains, not at the end of some ******* tunnel ..." his voice trailed off "... not anywhere."
A softly knitted "Oh, I see," slipped from her lips and trailed off upon a welcomed breeze that had entered through the open window. It waltzed around the room gathering as it swirled, carrying off their words, adding them to bits of red dust and scents of ocean, barbeque, and freshly mowed grass. She loved the intrusion, the smells of the warm world just beyond these walls reminded her of the importance and value of small joys.
"I think I should make you a paper moon," she spoke thoughtfully as though her idea were being pieced together as her words formed. "Yes, a paper moon, one with a little red paper heart inside ... small enough to fit in your wallet and on days when," he watched her struggle for the right words "... it's dark, you'll have a backup supply of light and love right in your own back pocket."
"My God she's odd." he thought and said so. But it didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. She just laughed and smiled then leaned in and added in a conspiratorial whisper "But I'm the very best sort of odd ..."
"Oh?" he asked with his first, almost smile of the day. "There are various sorts of odd?"
"Absolutely!"
"But you're the very best sort?"
"Absolutely!"
"And exactly what sort are you?"
"The harmless and crafty sort. Did I tell you?" She looked over her shoulders and then leaned in and whispered, "I can make the most wonderful paper moons?"
He turned his head away and facing the wall, he asked "Why are you so kind to me?"
"I have kindness in me to give and I believe you need it. So makes sense to give it, doesn't it?"
"There's lots of folks in this place needing kindness. Don't let me keep you."
She stood up, crossed to the door, turned and smiled, "Okay. Shall I come to see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah ... Why not?"
As she walked out into the hallway he called after her "Hey! Odd Duck, if you're feeling crafty tonight ... I'll take one of those paper moons of yours."