Monday morning was bright and clearly cold. Erwin could press his hand against the glass of their window and feel the chill bleed through even with the double panes. The nurses had brought them some games that had been donated, brand new and still in plastic wrap for safety.

"Hey, Eyebrows," Levi said. "Checkers or dominos? I'm not sure I even know how to play dominos."

Erwin chuckled, "Why do you insist on calling me that? Or worse! I have a name you know."

"Oh, you love it."

Erwin tried not to smile. He did love it. He found Levi's crassness endearing. "How would you feel if I called you 'gimp?' Or 'shorty?'"

"I'd think it was fucking funny. Right after I beat your ass. Now quit your bitching. What are we playing?"

"What made you go into teaching?"

Levi's mouth firmed to a thin line and Erwin was afraid he'd misstepped. For several seconds Levi just stared at the tabletop and ran his thumbnail absently down a shallow gouge in the plastic. "Coming up I spent a lot of time on the streets."

Erwin's eyes widened but he waited.

"Not homeless, just … not home. Not in school either. My uncle didn't really pay much attention to that stuff." Levi shrugged. "I ended up getting held back a year, even."

He took a sip out of his water cup. The codeine made his mouth dry.

"Anyway, I saw all these kids, like me, skipping school, turning to drugs, getting abused … and it made me want to help. So I went to school and I worked hard and here I am."

"That's amazing," Erwin said. His heart ached with the urge to hug the man, hold him close.

He cleared his throat. "What made you choose Kindergarten?"

"I figured the earlier the better. Plus I like the little kids. They're so … honest. No filters."

"Like you."

"Like me."

"So what exactly do architects do, anyway? Just draw things and stuff?" Levi asked out of the blue.

"Basically. We design buildings, draw them, and actually oversee the construction."

"Do you do, like, bridges, too? Bridges are cool."

"Nope, sorry; that would be civil engineers."

"What do you like drawing best?"

"Definitely houses. I actually specialize in affordable spaces like tiny houses!"

"'Tiny houses'?"

Erwin immediately warmed to his subject and sat on the edge of Levi's bed, using his hands to talk. "Tiny houses are exactly what they sound like! They're itsy bitsy houses that are cheap and easy to build for people with very little income. Some are even on wheels!"

"Isn't that just a … what do you call 'em, mobile home?"

"Kind of. It's sort of a cross between a house and an RV. I also design multi-family low-income housing."

"So you help make houses for poor people?"

"I do. It's a passion of mine."

"And I teach poor people's kids."

"We are a lot alike." Erwin smiled fondly and, to his shock and delight, the makings of a small smile made Levi's eyes crinkle. He seemed to realize this and he ducked his head quickly. "Oh, don't go getting all mushy on me, dickhead."

Levi had his bad days, days when the pain meds just didn't seem to be working. He was having one that day. He looked thin and drawn. He wasn't eating well and that bothered Erwin more than he wanted to admit.

"You didn't eat your salsbury steak."

"I didn't like it."

"Mine was fine."

Levi looked belligerent. "I ate my cake."

"You have a sweet tooth. You still should eat your meat."

"Ahh, I'll be OK. What are you, my grandma?"

Erwin was just coming back from his walk when he reached the door to their room. He took a quick glance around for any lingering nurses and slipped inside.

"How was your walk?" Levi asked. He was crossly clicking through the channels on the TV. "There's nothing on the fucking TV. I'm bored to tears."

"It was good. Nothing exciting." Erwin got a conspiratorial look on his face. "I got you something."

Levi looked startled. "You did?"

Erwin reached into the large single pocket of his gown and produced two candy bars and a pack of peanut butter wafer bars. Levi's whole face lit up. "Where did you get those?!" He immediately lowered his voice and looked toward the door. The nurses would skin them alive if they found out they were eating contraband food.

"There's a machine on the second floor. I had some change in my trouser pockets!"

"But you've never gotten anything before!"

"The machine is in a non-Covid area, but I talk with this technician, Rick, on the elevator almost every day. He agreed to sneak me some stuff." Erwin grinned.

Levi looked greedily over the selection; a Snickers, a Payday, and a Little Debbie pack of Nutty Buddy bars. He snatched the wafer bars and began opening them.

"They're all for you," Erwin said holding the two candy bars out.

"Seriously? For me?"

"For you."

Levi's face reddened and he took the two candy bars, secreting them under his pillow. "Thank you."

Erwin smiled happily.

The lights were off in the room and the curtains open so that the soft glow of the sodium arc lights in the parking lot below shone softly on the ceiling. Erwin rolled over for the fourth time and Levi turned his head toward him. "Settle down you big dumb idiot. I'm trying to sleep."

"Me too! I can't seem to get comfortable." Another roll.

"You drink too much coffee," Levi said. "It's fucking with your sleep."

The night nurse came quietly in. "Your meds Mr. Ackerman."

"I don't drink that much."

"You're addicted to the stuff, Eyebrows," Levi said, taking his oxycodone and washing it down with a swallow of water. Erwin watched him but didn't say anything.

The nurse went out, murmuring a soft 'good night.'

Erwin rolled over as Levi settled back down. Then he rolled over again. Levi sighed.

"You want me to, uh … read to you?"

Erwin rolled back toward him. "You'd do that?"

"Sure. Lemme get the book."

Levi settled back, book in hand, and cleared his throat. He turned to a page and began to read.

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

Erwin immediately felt more relaxed. Levi had a beautiful voice. The kids must find it soothing. It was deep, as deep as his, and sort of low and husky.

The poem ('A Dream Within A Dream') was a somber one, though, and made Erwin sad. When Levi was done he hurried to speak before he could begin another.

"So tell me about the book," Erwin said, getting comfortable in his bed. "It clearly means a lot to you. I'm sorry, by the way, that I picked it up without permission."

"S'OK." Levi's hands gently stroked the cover. "Like I said, it was my mother's. She got it from her mother who got it from her mother. It was the only thing of her mom's that she had."

The sad look was back and Erwin decided not to pry further but Levi wasn't finished.

"My great-grandmother was a young woman in Germany … before."

"Before?"

"The Nazis."

"Oh."

"She even had the numbers tattooed on her arm. I asked her about them when I was a kid." Levi rubbed the inside of his right arm as if remembering it. Erwin was horrified and, for once, had no idea what to say. He imagined himself and Levi there in Nazi Germany, Levi being hounded and persecuted and treated as less than human because he wasn't … well … Erwin.

The whole subject upset and depressed him. He couldn't imagine how Levi felt. Suddenly to be trapped in the hospital in the middle of a pandemic didn't seem so bad.

It could be worse. It could always be worse.