“Doctor, none of this matters,” David explained to his suddenly acquired therapist. “There’s no point in going over this.”

Dr. Ward glanced at his notes. “Your wife cares a great deal for you. She wouldn’t have brought you here if she didn’t think it had any chance of helping you.” At this, David turned the corner of his lip upward with an understated sigh of incredulity. He had come here simply to humor his wife, not through any faith in her advice. “Now, let’s go back to Mumbai,” the doctor continued. “Tell me about what took you there.”

“It was a business trip. I went there to sell bullshit to people who already had plenty of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I dealt with the ultra rich, people who bought frivolous things while a block down the road from their palaces, children were homeless, and people were dying of hunger.”

“Did this cause you resentment?”

“No, not at all. I didn’t even think about it.”

“What changed that?”

“My auto rickshaw broke down in the middle of the street from my office to a client’s home. I was exasperated, and I began to yell at the driver. He just took it in. He didn’t say anything. It was so cruel of me. The vehicle for his livelihood had just broken down. What if he had a wife or kids at home? What would he do? How would he survive?”

“Did you realize this on the spot?”

“Yes, on that spot, but not until it was much later, well after he had pushed his auto rickshaw to the side of the road and walked away.”

“What made you have that realization?”

“It was a boy, a seven year-old homeless boy. I ran into him sitting with his head in his hands in the alley between two sari shops. I saw him, and all the sounds of the street faded away. I even felt the rays of the sun losing their warmth. Then, I heard it. It was the howling sound of his silent cry. There was no sound, but I heard it. He had lost everything.”

“You heard something that didn’t make a sound? I’m not sure I understand.”

“Neither do I.”

The perplexed therapist scribbled on his notepad. “Please go on. I want to know from your perspective exactly what you experienced. You talked with him? He spoke English?”

“No, we didn’t talk.”

“Did he have parents with him?”

“No, they abandoned him long ago.”

“How did you learn about that? Did he have some other caretaker with him or someone who was familiar with him?”

“No, no one was with him. I just knew. In a flash, I saw everything.”

“Do you know why he was crying just then?”

At this, David’s eyes began to water. “Yes, someone took away his dog. In the middle of all the chaos, this became his center, something to love and care for.”

“Who took the dog away?”

“It was the people who let the dog go in the first place. They were so incredibly fickle and careless. You have no idea. They treated the creature like property instead of a living being. There was a reason why it left their home, because they didn’t give a damn about it. Only, their spoiled little brat of a kid wanted his toy back, so the family’s servants were constantly on the lookout for it whenever they went out into the market for groceries.”

“How long did the homeless boy have this dog?”

“About ten months. Toby came to Shyam as a malnourished stray, completely helpless and aimless. Shyam adopted him, feeding him and bringing him back to health when he could hardly look after himself. He was used to begging when he couldn’t find odd jobs to support himself, but that wasn’t always enough. He was desperate one time, and he pick-pocketed this American tourist who went to India to find spiritual peace.”

“How did Shyam feel about this?”

“He wasn’t accustomed to stealing. Everyone around him did it—they had to for survival. Still, he was never comfortable with it, even if it meant going hungry for several days. The other street kids thought he was stupid, and they made fun of him until he also came to believe it. But then, when the dog came to him in such a sickly condition, he couldn’t take it anymore. He did whatever he could to get some food. It was like throwing away a little bit of himself, but he didn’t care. Seeing Toby’s face light up and knowing that the dog wouldn’t go hungry was worth more than anything of himself that he had lost. That one act of thievery was enough for him to not have to seriously beg for over a month, though he went through the motions as usual to keep more money coming in and avoid raising suspicion. He hid the money away inside the roof of one of the sari shops, and no one caught on.”

“I’m curious, David. Have you ever stolen anything?”

“Yes, I have, when I was a teenager at a supermarket, but not recently, and I’m not telling you all this as some means for dealing with unresolved guilt, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“I’m not making any accusation, just trying to understand you so I can help you. Please, tell me more about Shyam and Toby.”

David remained silent for a period that made Dr. Ward uncomfortable. As the therapist was about to interject, the patient continued.

“I don’t need your help. You can’t help, no matter your duty or good intentions. If you had heard the boy’s cry like I did, you’d know why I’m saying this. ‘My only friend is gone. My only friend is gone.’ That was his unspoken mantra.”

“Did you do anything to help him?”

“I took out all the money I had in my wallet, and I put it in his hand, but it didn’t matter. He was still crying, with no sound. I looked at his face, into his devastated eyes, and saw into his future. Nothing anyone could do would help. He didn’t have a broken heart. He had a broken life.”