CURIOUS AUNT MADGE
AFTER SCOOBIE LEFT I transferred to the scooter and headed for the hall. I'd used my lack of sleep as an excuse to ask for a lunch tray in my apartment, because I hadn't wanted a bunch of questions. I couldn't do that for dinner. Or I could, but people would probably stop by to see me. It would be easier to join the others than to talk to five or ten people one-on-one.
A glance at the clock showed only four-thirty, so I didn't go directly to the dining room. I wanted to see where the security cameras were. At least two were trained on the lobby door, but I had no idea where others were.
I turned right and drove to the end of my hall, with only a brief glance at the laundry room door. A camera stared at me from the end of the corridor, at ceiling height. It protruded from the wall a few inches so it could swivel.
The camera was pitifully slow. Even someone using a cane could avoid it by ducking into an alcove midway down the hall.
At the end of the hall, I turned around. Now the camera that faced me was easily thirty yards or more away. It was pointed lower, so I doubted it would reach where I sat. That meant the middle of the hall was only covered by one camera, which would make it easier to avoid being spotted. Still, someone would have to study the cameras to evade detection.
I stopped at the alcove, one of several throughout the facility. Each had a couple of easy chairs, with an end table between them. The day's newspaper was in each one, and a shelf of books stood behind the chairs.
A couple alcoves were big enough for a table for card games or puzzles. When I was more used to the scooter, I'd check out the books.
A final glance up and down the hall told me a person could avoid the cameras fairly easily. But why? No one cared if residents were up at night. A couple residents had early-stage Alzheimer's and paced the corridors after dark. Sundowning, I thought they called it.
I sighed and drove toward the dining room. Perhaps I had scared one of the residents and they had gone into the laundry room to avoid me.
I should probably take my own advice and leave well enough alone.
Lance was ahead of me in the hall, walking slowly.
"Beep, beep."
He turned and shook a finger at me. "You have an airbag on that thing?" He moved closer to the wall so I could ride next to him.
I slowed the scooter. "It's designed to withstand crashes. You doing okay?"
"Just tired. I think Elmira is sweet on me. She dropped by my apartment at seven-thirty last night. In old-people time, that's like midnight."
I laughed. Elmira Washington is to gossip what shells are to the beach. She has a lovely town home on the Silver Times grounds. For a small fee, she can join us for meals, which she has begun doing a few times a week. Lance and I try to get to the dining room early, so we are at a full table for four before Elmira arrived.
Today, we sat with Ed Hardin and his wife, Vicki. I usually don't think of women in terms of their husbands, but Vicki has to rely on Ed for her memory and encouragement to eat. Some residents don't like to sit with them. Conversation with Vicki consists largely of inquiring whether she likes her food. When you ask, she seems surprised to find herself eating.
I don't mind being with them. They used to live not far from me and we all went to First Presbyterian. Vicki often worked in their small garden, and through the years had given me tomatoes from time to time. It's hard to see such a vibrant person losing herself.
Lance pulled a chair away from the table so I could scoot up to it. I was still too far from the table, so he gestured to a staff member to help me into a chair. I silently blamed Lester. As if it was his fault I was in the scooter. I needed to learn to use the walker well enough to get to the dining room easily.
"Thanks." I smiled at the woman who helped me, but couldn't remember her name.
"I'll ride your scooter into the hall, and bring it to you when you're done."
Ed Hardin was wearing a burgundy cardigan and a small frown, but he nodded to me. "No one can say the staff here aren't helpful." Then he muttered, "Can't say the same for…"
I couldn't hear his last word or two as I reached for my cloth napkin. "You feel okay, Ed?"
He moved his silverware from the left to right side of his empty salad bowl. "Just a tad worried."
Lance met my eyes and jerked his head, almost imperceptibly, toward Vicki.
"Can I do something for you, Ed?"
He smiled at me and glanced at Vicki. "No, no. I just need to figure out…some things."
As Vicki looked at a spot on the wall just beyond Lance, Ed continued, "Vicki is getting more dependent on me. Even to…you know, use the restroom. I don't mind, but…"
When Ed paused, Lance looked at me and added, "You haven't been here long. You probably haven't heard the powers that be seem to be getting more strict about how much you have to be able to do for yourself to stay here."
I nodded and looked at Ed. "I heard a bit. I hope you don't have to move."
A voice came from behind me. "Are you moving? I'm on the waiting list."
I stiffened, but didn't turn around. "Evening, Elmira."
Lance nodded, and Ed just looked more miserable. She took a chair from the table next to us and swung it around so she could sit at the corner of our table. I was glad there would not be space to add a fifth plate.
"I'm getting tired of the steps in my townhouse," she said.
I glanced at her. Elmira often mentioned that she walked every day, one reason she kept her steel grey hair so short. From what I could see, she looked as healthy as ever.
"Have you thought about the independent living apartments?" Lance asked.
"Yes, but I figure I'd end up here eventually, so why move twice?"
This made no sense to me. It was easily $1,500 more per month to be in assisted living. Who would spend that kind of money if they didn't have to? "What was the name of the woman from church who lives in those apartments?"
"Margaret Chasworthy," Ed and Lance said together.
"She makes quilts," Vicki said.
I was surprised to hear Vicki say something so cogent. "She does. As I recall she donates one for auction every year, for the First Prez bazaar."
Vicki went back to staring at the spot on the wall.
"So," Elmira asked, "When are you moving?"
Ed's stare was steely. "We hope not to move."
Elmira frowned. "Oh. If you decide…"
"Mrs. Washington, I have a seat for you over here." The staff member who had helped me into the chair was directly behind Elmira.
Before she could object, Lance nodded at Elmira. "Enjoy your dinner."
As she walked away, Ed muttered, "Too bad we aren't allowed to tip the staff."
We were only halfway through dinner when Vicki stood and started for the door that led to the hall. Ed rose to follow her.
"I'll have them put your food in a box and bring it down to you," Lance said.
I watched them walk out, Ed hurrying to catch up with Vicki, and turned to Lance. "He seems able to handle her. Would they really be forced to move to the nursing home?"
Lance shook his head. "No one can make them go anywhere, but the new regime can make them leave here."