Read Online Barry Friedman - The Old Folks At Home: Warehouse Them or Leave Them on the Ice Floe by Barry Friedman - Free Book Online
Authors: Barry Friedman
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dressing’. I can damned well dress myself.” He turned his back on Mary and mumbled something.
I tried to defuse the argument. “I’m sure you can. Say, what about those Padres!”
He brightened. The argument already history. “Yeah. They killed the—the—who they played the other night.”
That was actually last week, but who was counting. At least he knew who won.
I turned to Mary. “Did you ever reach the doctor about that medicine?”
She snorted. “Finally. He was all apologies. It was as you said, no problem. The two medications were compatible.”
Frank said, “What medications?”
I rescued Mary. “It was some medicine I was taking.”
Frank said, “I take a bunch, don’t I Mary?”
Mary nodded. Sighed.
Frank said, “Say, did you meet my son—?” He searched for a name. Came up empty. He pointed to the closet where Ken was still sorting out the clothes and hanging them up. “Son, this is my friend—.”
“Henry,” I prompted.
“Henry,” echoed Frank.
Ken waved. “Nice meeting you, Henry.” He glanced at me and rolled his eyes.
I felt as though I was in the way. Besides, I thought I’d do a little exploring before I left the floor. “Well, I’m on my way out. So long Frank, Mary.” I called over to Ken. “Good luck, Ken. How long are you staying?”
“I’m going back tomorrow.”
“How about having dinner with Harriet and me tonight?”
“Thanks, but I’m arranging to have it here with Mom and Dad in their apartment.”
“I understand. You’re a good son. Have a safe trip back home.”
I opened the door. Fredricka was there, leaning on the door frame with one hand, the other hand on her hip. So much for exploring.
Wordlessly, she pointed to the elevator and walked behind me like I was a horse being led to a corral, and was trying to escape. Which I was. The escape part.
At the first floor she unlocked the door to the ramp, and I heard the deadbolt click into place as I left. At least I had another excuse to visit the Assisted Living floor. The Todds. Small victory.
Chapter Seventeen
After giving Frank and Mary Todd a few days to settle in, I thought I’d pay them a visit. At the same time, I’d visit the Rogers again. A double-header if I could pull it off.
I phoned Chet to let him know I was coming. Who am I kidding? It was to get the official stamp of approval.
He said, “I guess you haven’t heard. We’re shut down. No visitors to the Care Center or Assisted Living.”
Shut down? My first reaction was that one of the inmates had escaped, and the entire joint was on lock-down, like in a prison. I said, “Has someone gone over the wall?”
He chuckled. “No. It’s because of the diarrhea.”
“And the floors are slippery?”
“Huh?”
“From all the crap.”
He sounded puzzled. “It’s probably an outbreak of no virus” At least, that’s what it sounded like.
Now I was puzzled. “”Wait a minute. If it’s not a virus what is it?”
“ Nor virus.” Subtext, you idiot .
I’d heard of the norvirus, of course. A highly contagious gastrointestinal disease that can become epidemic in institutions. As a precaution, to prevent spread, contact between individuals is minimized.
I immediately thought about Harriet and her card games. “How about bridge?”
“No bridge.”
“Golf?”
“No golf.”
“Movies?”
“No movies.”
“Tea and cookies?”
“No tea and cookies.”
“Mail?’
“Of course the mail will be delivered. And your meals will be brought to your apartment. And wash your hands.” He sounded like he was talking to a five-year-old autistic. Which is what I l felt like.
After I hung up, I decided to take a stroll in the corridors to stretch my legs.
In the elevator, a posted notice told me essentially what I had heard from Chet. The corridors were deserted. The common rooms, usually bursting with activity, were closed. On the doors were signs, “Closed until further notice.”
In one corridor
I tried to defuse the argument. “I’m sure you can. Say, what about those Padres!”
He brightened. The argument already history. “Yeah. They killed the—the—who they played the other night.”
That was actually last week, but who was counting. At least he knew who won.
I turned to Mary. “Did you ever reach the doctor about that medicine?”
She snorted. “Finally. He was all apologies. It was as you said, no problem. The two medications were compatible.”
Frank said, “What medications?”
I rescued Mary. “It was some medicine I was taking.”
Frank said, “I take a bunch, don’t I Mary?”
Mary nodded. Sighed.
Frank said, “Say, did you meet my son—?” He searched for a name. Came up empty. He pointed to the closet where Ken was still sorting out the clothes and hanging them up. “Son, this is my friend—.”
“Henry,” I prompted.
“Henry,” echoed Frank.
Ken waved. “Nice meeting you, Henry.” He glanced at me and rolled his eyes.
I felt as though I was in the way. Besides, I thought I’d do a little exploring before I left the floor. “Well, I’m on my way out. So long Frank, Mary.” I called over to Ken. “Good luck, Ken. How long are you staying?”
“I’m going back tomorrow.”
“How about having dinner with Harriet and me tonight?”
“Thanks, but I’m arranging to have it here with Mom and Dad in their apartment.”
“I understand. You’re a good son. Have a safe trip back home.”
I opened the door. Fredricka was there, leaning on the door frame with one hand, the other hand on her hip. So much for exploring.
Wordlessly, she pointed to the elevator and walked behind me like I was a horse being led to a corral, and was trying to escape. Which I was. The escape part.
At the first floor she unlocked the door to the ramp, and I heard the deadbolt click into place as I left. At least I had another excuse to visit the Assisted Living floor. The Todds. Small victory.
Chapter Seventeen
After giving Frank and Mary Todd a few days to settle in, I thought I’d pay them a visit. At the same time, I’d visit the Rogers again. A double-header if I could pull it off.
I phoned Chet to let him know I was coming. Who am I kidding? It was to get the official stamp of approval.
He said, “I guess you haven’t heard. We’re shut down. No visitors to the Care Center or Assisted Living.”
Shut down? My first reaction was that one of the inmates had escaped, and the entire joint was on lock-down, like in a prison. I said, “Has someone gone over the wall?”
He chuckled. “No. It’s because of the diarrhea.”
“And the floors are slippery?”
“Huh?”
“From all the crap.”
He sounded puzzled. “It’s probably an outbreak of no virus” At least, that’s what it sounded like.
Now I was puzzled. “”Wait a minute. If it’s not a virus what is it?”
“ Nor virus.” Subtext, you idiot .
I’d heard of the norvirus, of course. A highly contagious gastrointestinal disease that can become epidemic in institutions. As a precaution, to prevent spread, contact between individuals is minimized.
I immediately thought about Harriet and her card games. “How about bridge?”
“No bridge.”
“Golf?”
“No golf.”
“Movies?”
“No movies.”
“Tea and cookies?”
“No tea and cookies.”
“Mail?’
“Of course the mail will be delivered. And your meals will be brought to your apartment. And wash your hands.” He sounded like he was talking to a five-year-old autistic. Which is what I l felt like.
After I hung up, I decided to take a stroll in the corridors to stretch my legs.
In the elevator, a posted notice told me essentially what I had heard from Chet. The corridors were deserted. The common rooms, usually bursting with activity, were closed. On the doors were signs, “Closed until further notice.”
In one corridor
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