Read Online Barry Friedman - The Old Folks At Home: Warehouse Them or Leave Them on the Ice Floe by Barry Friedman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barry Friedman
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Eighteen
Thank God the shut-down only lasted a week. Any longer and the Administration Office would have been torched.
Now that we were back on track, I decided the time had come to pay a visit to the Todds and Rogers. My real purpose was to check out the Assisted Living facility. Something screwy was going on, although I didn’t have a clue as to what it was.
I phoned Chet to find out when was the best time to visit.
He said, “We’ve got a lot of activities going on. I’ll have to get back to you.”
I didn’t know what kind of activities he was talking about. Every time I’d been there, the only activity I saw the residents engaged in was breathing. And I wasn’t even sure they were all breathing. Often enough I had been on the wrong side of “get back to you.” Translation: You should live so long.
“Chet,” I said quietly. “Give me a day and time. Now .”
“Okay, okay. Tomorrow at three.”
“I knew you’d find a way.”
The following day at three I buzzed the intercom and waved at the surveillance camera. A few moments later, the door was opened by Chet.
He ushered me in and we rode the elevator up to the Assisted Living floor. As always, the inactivity was deafening.
While we walked down the empty corridor to the Todd’s apartment, I said, “You told me there was an activities room at the end of the other corridor.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’d like to take a peek at it.”
“Why?”
What came to my mind was: To make sure you’re not giving me more of your bullshit. Instead I said, “Just curious.”
“No problem.”
When someone tells me there’s no problem, I know there’s a problem.
We turned the corner and headed down a corridor as long as the one we’d come from. We stopped at the last door. Chet turned the knob and pushed. There was no give. The door was locked.
“Uh-oh,” said Chet.
“Uh- huh, ” said I.
“I’ll get the key. It’s in the Administrator’s Office. Wait here.”
While I waited, I glanced around. In front of me was the end of the corridor. It appeared to be a solid wall covered by wallpaper with a zigzag pattern., On close inspection, I saw a fine crack that went from the floor to about the height of a door, and another fine crack at right angles to the first, and a third crack that joined the second at a right angle and ran to the floor. In other words, a hidden door. No knob, but unmistakably a door. I pushed gently against it and felt a slight give, the cracks widened, but it would not open.
I knew there must be a keyhole somewhere in the pattern, but before I could look for it, I heard Chet’s footsteps. I quickly turned to see him striding toward me holding up a key.
“Got it,” he announced.
He unlocked the door to the activities room and swept a hand around. “Here it is.”
Rows of empty chairs took up most of the room. The chairs were separated by a space wide enough to accommodate a wheelchair or walker. At the front of the room was a speaker’s stand with an attached microphone.
I was less interested in the room, which was obviously set up for speakers, than I was in the hidden door. Chet had told me earlier that there was only one way in or out. So much for that fairy tale.
Chet said, “A movie screen drops down.”
“So the room can be used for speakers or a movie,” I said. A brilliant observation.
“We have movies almost every night.”
“Well, thanks for showing me the activities room. Now, I’d like to see how the Todds are doing.”
“Sure.”
Frank and Mary Todd were eating at a small end table. We spent a few minutes making small talk. “Sorry to disturb you while you were eating,” I said, “I’ll be going, but I‘ll be back in a few days and we can really chat.”
Chet had been standing alongside me, and after we left the Todds I told him I’d like to spend a few minutes with Larry and Christine Rogers.
Their apartment was in the other wing, at right angles to the Todd’s. Chet knocked
Thank God the shut-down only lasted a week. Any longer and the Administration Office would have been torched.
Now that we were back on track, I decided the time had come to pay a visit to the Todds and Rogers. My real purpose was to check out the Assisted Living facility. Something screwy was going on, although I didn’t have a clue as to what it was.
I phoned Chet to find out when was the best time to visit.
He said, “We’ve got a lot of activities going on. I’ll have to get back to you.”
I didn’t know what kind of activities he was talking about. Every time I’d been there, the only activity I saw the residents engaged in was breathing. And I wasn’t even sure they were all breathing. Often enough I had been on the wrong side of “get back to you.” Translation: You should live so long.
“Chet,” I said quietly. “Give me a day and time. Now .”
“Okay, okay. Tomorrow at three.”
“I knew you’d find a way.”
The following day at three I buzzed the intercom and waved at the surveillance camera. A few moments later, the door was opened by Chet.
He ushered me in and we rode the elevator up to the Assisted Living floor. As always, the inactivity was deafening.
While we walked down the empty corridor to the Todd’s apartment, I said, “You told me there was an activities room at the end of the other corridor.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’d like to take a peek at it.”
“Why?”
What came to my mind was: To make sure you’re not giving me more of your bullshit. Instead I said, “Just curious.”
“No problem.”
When someone tells me there’s no problem, I know there’s a problem.
We turned the corner and headed down a corridor as long as the one we’d come from. We stopped at the last door. Chet turned the knob and pushed. There was no give. The door was locked.
“Uh-oh,” said Chet.
“Uh- huh, ” said I.
“I’ll get the key. It’s in the Administrator’s Office. Wait here.”
While I waited, I glanced around. In front of me was the end of the corridor. It appeared to be a solid wall covered by wallpaper with a zigzag pattern., On close inspection, I saw a fine crack that went from the floor to about the height of a door, and another fine crack at right angles to the first, and a third crack that joined the second at a right angle and ran to the floor. In other words, a hidden door. No knob, but unmistakably a door. I pushed gently against it and felt a slight give, the cracks widened, but it would not open.
I knew there must be a keyhole somewhere in the pattern, but before I could look for it, I heard Chet’s footsteps. I quickly turned to see him striding toward me holding up a key.
“Got it,” he announced.
He unlocked the door to the activities room and swept a hand around. “Here it is.”
Rows of empty chairs took up most of the room. The chairs were separated by a space wide enough to accommodate a wheelchair or walker. At the front of the room was a speaker’s stand with an attached microphone.
I was less interested in the room, which was obviously set up for speakers, than I was in the hidden door. Chet had told me earlier that there was only one way in or out. So much for that fairy tale.
Chet said, “A movie screen drops down.”
“So the room can be used for speakers or a movie,” I said. A brilliant observation.
“We have movies almost every night.”
“Well, thanks for showing me the activities room. Now, I’d like to see how the Todds are doing.”
“Sure.”
Frank and Mary Todd were eating at a small end table. We spent a few minutes making small talk. “Sorry to disturb you while you were eating,” I said, “I’ll be going, but I‘ll be back in a few days and we can really chat.”
Chet had been standing alongside me, and after we left the Todds I told him I’d like to spend a few minutes with Larry and Christine Rogers.
Their apartment was in the other wing, at right angles to the Todd’s. Chet knocked
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