Read Online Final Stroke by Michael Beres - Free Book Online Page A

Unlike the hospital, where things were more traditional, the rehab center has lots of computers. Steve gets on the Internet, sends messages to other stroke patients in other facilities. He’s even sent e-mail to Tamara.”
    “That cop he used to know?”
    “Yes. She visits once in a while. Pretty ironic that an ex-lover of Steve’s turns out to be a good friend of mine. Sweet Jesus, I sure can see why he fell for her. She says ‘Sweet Jesus’ a lot. Here she is a black female homicide cop and she also sings in the church choir.
    “But, yes, Steve uses the computer I bought him quite a bit. He’s stopped carrying around the electronic thesaurus to help remind him of words. Says he doesn’t carry around the thesaurus anymore because it’s too much like carrying around part of his brain in a box.
    “Even though he was on the melancholy side before his stroke, Steve always had an ironic sense of humor. The other day he took me down to the rehab computer lab. There’s this program that’s sup posed to help stroke victims rebuild vocabulary, and on this program there was this button on the screen you were supposed to click with the mouse in order to show a comparison of two words, I guess if they had any meaning in common. Anyway, the name on the button was misspelled. Instead of saying Comparison , it said Comaprison . Steve laughed like hell at this, and after he stopped laughing, he managed to get out the irony in this. He said it was funny because if a stroker clicked on the button, they’d go to this Comaprison , which he said was a pretty fair description of where strokers do go sometimes.”
    Jan and Lydia were silent for a moment, then Lydia spoke.
    “Last time we talked you said Steve’s mind wanders a lot. Does that still happen?”
    “Not quite as much. But he still has this thing where he sees something, like on television or out in the parking lot, and it reminds him of something and that reminds him of something else, and so on. And when this happens he says it always seems to end up with some thing having to do with the environment. Since his stroke he’s gotten very concerned with the environment, especially global warming and the problems society is leaving behind for future generations.
    “He was looking out his window the other day and could see some people waiting out at the bus stop at the main entrance. He managed to get out that the entrance was far away and there were trees in be tween, but with the leaves still not out, being that it’s only March, he was able to see the people and judged that since they were taking the bus they were poor people. He said people waiting for a bus have no control of what goes on in the world. He said people waiting for buses no longer wear business suits like in old movies on television. He said they’re at the mercy of corporations. He said they have no control over the air they breathe or the water they drink. And, although he smiled as always, I could tell this made him sad.”
    “Did he actually say those things?” asked Lydia.
    “No, he wrote it all on his computer. He also wrote that the dete riorating environmental situation in the world was like a long sad song played on a violin.”
    “Did Steve take up playing the violin again?”
    “No. After I brought it to him in the hospital and he played it a couple times, he put it aside and finally told me to take it home. For some reason the stroke left him with the memory that his performance of melancholy Hungarian music was nothing but a series of horrible scratchings.” Jan laughed. “Now he claims this was one positive result of his stroke, giving him an objective ear and making him wonder why he had fooled himself all those years.”
    “Didn’t he used to be nicknamed Gypsy?” asked Lydia.
    “Yes, but I’ve never mentioned it to him.”
    “How come?”
    “I don’t know. I guess it’s one of those things I hope he’ll mention on his own.”
    “Does he still put on a sour face when