Read Online Repairman Jack [07]-Gateways by F. Paul Wilson - Free Book Online

restrictions. No watering at all in South Florida now, even if you have your own well.”
    He drove on, passing tennis courts—at least their Har-Tru surfaces were still green—and shuffleboard areas, all busy.
    “There’s the assisted living facility,” she said, pointing to a three-story building done up in coral shades. Then she pointed to a one-story structure. “That’s the nursing home.”
    “I don’t get it.”
    “The drought?”
    “No. Why my father moved down here.”
    “Warmth is a factor. You get old, you feel the cold. But the main reason people come to Gateways and other places like it is so they’ll never be a burden on their children.”
    “You talk like you’re not one of them.”
    “I don’t have anybody to burden, hon. I’m here for the sun.” She held up an arm to show off her wafer-thin, beef-jerky skin. “As you can tell, I love to sit and soak up the rays. I used to sunbathe in the nude when I was younger. If I didn’t know how the community board would squawk, I’d do it now.”
    Jack tried not to picture that.
    “But I can’t see my father being a burden on anyone.”
    “Maybe you don’t, kiddo, but he can. That’s why he’s here instead of in some West Palm condo.”
    “I’m not following you.”
    “Gateways South—and North and East, for that matter—is a graduated care community that provides for us through the final stages of our lives. We start off in our own little bungalows; when we become more frail we move to assisted living where we have a suite and they provide meals and housekeeping services; and when we can no longer care for ourselves, we move into the nursing home.”
    “All it takes is money, I suppose.”
    She snorted a puff of smoke out her nose. “It’s not cheap, I can tell you that. You buy your house, you buy a bond, you pay monthly maintenance fees, but your future care is assured. That’s important.”
    “Important enough to hide yourself away down here?”
    She shrugged and lit another cigarette—her third since leaving the hospital. “I’m just telling you what I’ve heard my neighbors say. Me, I’m here because I’ve got no one to care for me when I start losing it. But the rest, they’re all terrified of ending up in diapers in a son or daughter’s home.”
    “Some children might not see that as a burden.”
    “But what of the parents? They don’t want to be remembered like that. Would you?”
    “No, I guess not. I know not.”
    He didn’t even want to remember his father as that flattened man pressed between the hospital sheets today. He wanted even less to remember him as an empty-eyed drooler in diapers, a lifetime’s store of dignity vanishing like a gambler’s paycheck.
    He said, “Getting old sucks, doesn’t it.”
    “For some, yes, but not all. The body begins to remind you in ways big and small that you ain’t the maidel or boychick you used to be, but you find ways to adjust. It’s largely a matter of acceptance.” She pointed to the right. “Turn here.”
    Jack saw a sign for White Ibis Lane as he made the turn. At the end of the short road stood two small, identical houses. The four parking spots in the little cul-de-sac were empty. Jack pulled into one and stepped out of the car. Anya opened her door and let Oyv hop to the ground. The Chihuahua immediately trotted to the nearest palm and let loose a tiny yellow stream against its trunk.
    Jack smiled. “That tree looks so dry, I bet it’s grateful even for that.”
    Anya laughed as she straightened slowly from the passenger seat to a standing position. “You’d win. Take a look around while I go in and get the key to your father’s place.”
    Jack felt his eyebrows jump. “He gave you a key?”
    She waved a hand at him and laughed. “Nothing like that, kiddo. We traded keys as a precaution. In case of, you know, an emergency.”
    Jack couldn’t resist. He winked at her. “You’re sure that’s all?”
    “What? Thomas with an old skinny-assed