The next day at the library, I discovered he did have an account on the social media website. It was of course, nine years old. His favorite artist and profile song was a rapper, which turned out to be one of my personal favorites at the time.
The next day, I rummaged through my cassettes and found it, the artist’s third album. The Walkman was harder to find, but it was in the attic next to my cousin’s giant Dr. Seuss collection.
Armed with my mental stimuli, I walked into Wing D on a mission. I sat in front of Robert and placed the earphones over his ears and adjusted the tightness. I pressed play and watched his expression. I know a watched pot never boils, but at 94 seconds in to his favorite song, his eyes glazed over. Drat! Great, from catatonic stare to glazed eyes, a worsening of symptoms. I grabbed the headphones off his head and started reading Seuss. Halfway through I glanced up, and I could swear there was a slight grimace on his face. No one else would verify it, but the slight change in expression had me feeling uneasy. I put down Seuss and went back to Treasure Island. Again, after 94 seconds his catatonic stare returned.
I missed the bus and decided to walk to my bike. He was "in there". Part of me wanted to speak to his father.