by Hayden Hunt
That was the thing about being a cop. All it took was one event to really affect you. Ninety percent of your day could be a snooze fest, but if one dramatic thing happened… Bam. You couldn’t get away from it in your mind.
Today was definitely one of those days. I had Matthew on the brain. I at least got some relief knowing that he had a son who still cared enough to come home and be there for him.
Which was really nice, actually, considering what I knew of their relationship. I tried to think, if I hadn’t spoken to my parents in eight years, would I still be willing to be there for them like that?
I’d have liked to think I would. But, really, I could be a pretty bitter person. And I barely talked to my parents as is. I couldn’t imagine how little we would communicate if there was a real driving wedge between us.
After I finished my shift up, I went to the local pet store and got a few things for Bailey. Maybe it was going overboard, considering she’d only be spending one night in my house, but I couldn’t help it. It made me feel good to make her more comfortable.
I got her a bone, a chew toy, a very expensive dog bed, food, and treats. Really, the only things I skipped out on were food and water bowls, but I thought that would be very excessive considering I could just put food and water in the bowls I had at home for tonight.
When I went to pick Bailey up, she looked like a whole new dog. They had shaved her long hair down so that it was no longer matted up. I had to say, I thought she was even cuter with short hair.
“Hi, Bailey girl,” I said in a high pitched voice I almost didn’t recognize. “Don’t you look nice!”
“She was an absolute doll,” the vet told me. “And besides being dirty and a little malnourished, she appears to be just fine. All I recommend now is food, love, and a lot of relaxation.”
I picked her up and held her close to my chest. She responded with a cheerful lick on my cheek.
“Thanks for all your help. I’ll be sure to take good care of her tonight.”
“Just don’t get too attached,” the vet reminded me.
“Oh, I won’t,” I said, though there was a good chance I actually would. I really liked this little girl. But attachment wouldn’t keep me from giving her back to her rightful owner.
On the way home, she did the same whining thing every time the car moved. I pet her the same way I did on the way to animal control, but it wasn’t soothing her the same way as it had when we drove there.
So I caved and let her sit on my lap for the remainder of the trip. She didn’t make a peep the entire way home.
“All right, Bailey,” I began as I pulled into my garage. “This is my home. This is where you’re going to stay tonight until your owner Charlie can come get you tomorrow. But I’ll make sure you’re real comfortable.”
The fact that I was talking to a dog as if she could understand me was a real testament to how lonely I’d clearly become.
I was able to set her down for the first time without protest once we’d gotten inside, which was nice since I had to carry in all her new things.
I had a small, simple two bedroom house. Nothing too fancy. I bought it as a fixer upper and did most of the renovations myself when I was off work.
I didn’t do much in the way of decoration, though. My furniture was mismatched and my white walls were bare. I just couldn’t think of a reason why I would decorate the place, considering I never had anyone over.
At first I set Bailey’s bed in the living room, but then I thought she might be more comfortable in the bedroom where she could see I was around. So I walked into the bedroom and set her bed down next to my own.
For a second, she went and nudged it. Once she felt how soft it was, she did not hesitate to mark her territory by rolling around on the thing.
I thought maybe she would just get situated in it and fall asleep, but no. She lost interest in the bed as soon as I walked around the room. Apparently following me around was a better use of her time.
I grabbed two red bowls out from my kitchen cabinet and then took them back to the room. One I filled up with the dog food I’d bought and the other I filled with water from the bathroom faucet.
Again, she showed a lot of interest in the food until I went to walk away again. All I was doing was grabbing her new toy and bone from the kitchen counter, but she couldn’t stand to be away from me for even two seconds.
I couldn’t honestly say I minded. It’d been a long time since I didn’t feel lonely in this house at night. Bailey added a presence to my house that I quite liked.
I stripped down in the bathroom to hop in the shower, fully expecting Bailey to sit on the tile floor and wait for me to come out. Which she did, at first… Although she sat on my clothes instead of the tile.
I turned the water on, gently rubbing my naked body to stay warm as the water heated up. It wasn’t yet winter, but it had become cold enough that getting in and out of the shower was uncomfortable.
As soon as the water was warm, I stepped in, only to be met with a chorus of screeching from Bailey.
“What?! What is it?!” I asked her, pulling back the curtain.
She was acting like she was under attack from someone or something. But it was only her sitting on the floor of the bathroom, howling her lungs out.
“What is it?” I asked again. “Do you not like that I’m in the shower?”
She gave a bark.
“Okay, well, it’ll only be a few minutes and then I’ll be back out with you, I promise. But I can’t very well shower with you.”
Another little bark.
I rolled my eyes and shut the shower curtain but again, she began loudly screeching. Even if I was only in the shower for ten minutes, the noise was going to give me a headache by the time I finished.
“Bailey, no, stop! Come on, I can’t bring you in the shower with me! That’s too weird.”
She only managed to whine in response.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “Fine.”
I grabbed her and pulled her into the shower with me. It was big enough that I could set her on the opposite side and she wouldn’t get sprayed with the jet of water.
Sure enough, as soon as she was in there with me she sat quietly in the dry corner of the shower.
Okay, this was so strange. I was literally showering with a dog. I had crossed the line of acceptable human-pet behavior. But if it comforted her, that was enough for me.
When I was finished, I got into my pajamas and finished my nightly routine. I had already eaten dinner on my break and even though it was early still, I found myself inexplicably tired. Probably from the intense emotional roller coaster I dealt with during the day.
“Okay, bed time, Bailey,” I told her as I turned off the light. “Goodnight.”
For a second when the lights went off, I heard her begin to whine again. But she quickly went quiet when she realized she could reach the bed by jumping with her little legs. She immediately curled up in my arms.
All right, I was most definitely attached now.
I cuddled her the rest of the night and tried not to think of the fact that I’d be handing her back to her owner tomorrow.
20
Charlie
As I stepped off the plane, I could feel my stomach drop.
Something about being back here, in the airport next to my hometown, just felt like too much. Many old memories came flooding back to me and not in a good way.
The flight itself hadn’t been too bad, though yesterday was miserable. I had to cancel my lease and electricity bills, and pack up all my important belongings in a matter of twelve hours. It was nearly impossible, and I definitely didn’t pack everything, but I did what I could.
I was obviously going to have to go back some time during the next thirty days to finish packing up my apartment, but I wasn’t worried about that right now. My father needed me immediately, so I didn’t have any time to waste, unfortunately.
I first took a cab back to my old house. I needed to drop off all my
things as that was where I was going to be staying for the foreseeable future.
But my jaw dropped once we finally pulled up in front of it. If it weren’t for my neighbors’ homes, I’d seriously doubt whether this was even the house I grew up in.
It had always been old and I knew it wasn’t going to take long for things to start falling apart on it. But man, I thought my dad would handle those things. He always used to tackle projects around the house when I was younger.
It was hard to say whether he’d been unable to keep up with the house because of the dementia or if he had just stopped caring after my mother died.
Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t picture him doing anything around the house after her death. I couldn’t really imagine him doing anything except ordering a lot of takeout and moping on the couch with a bottle of liquor.
That seemed like the more likely option. Or maybe I just hoped that was the case, because I didn’t want to imagine my dad had been sick long enough for the house to fall apart. I didn’t want to think he had to handle this all on his own.
I opened the familiar black gate that was now dusted with rust. There was an ear-shattering screech that emitted from it once I opened it. You could wake the damn neighbors just opening this gate!
I fished underneath the filthy welcome mat to find the spare key, praying it was still here. It was, and I used it to get inside the house.
My jaw dropped the second the door opened. It was absolutely trashed beyond belief. It was like my father had been using the floor as his own personal trash can. The smell hit me all at once. I’d never seen a more disgusting house in my life.
My first reaction was to be incredibly grossed out, of course. But after a second of thought, my eyes started to fill with tears. My father had seriously been living in this? This had been his life for god only knew how long. No human should have to live this way, I thought.
Including me. I was not going to be able to stay here tonight unless this got fixed.
I stepped back out of the house and put my things back in the car. I pulled out my phone and started calling around for cleaning services until I found someone who could have it cleaned today.
“It’s an absolute disaster,” I told the woman over the phone. “I’d send every available employee you have.”
“If the mess is outside of our usual cleaning routine, then we’re going to have to charge extra, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, I fully expected that, and yes, it’s going to be far out of your normal routine. The floor is literally covered in trash. But don’t worry about it. I’ll pay whatever. Just charge me whatever you think is fair.” Thanks to my writing, I was pretty well off, so I wasn’t the least bit concerned with the price.
“Okay, we can be there in one hour.”
“Fantastic. I have somewhere important to be, but I’m going to leave the key under the mat and you can get in that way. I’ll go ahead and meet you after to pay. Thanks again.”
“No problem, thank you,” she answered before we hung up.
Coming to the house was supposed to be the easy part, and even this was a disaster. I couldn’t imagine what seeing my father was going to be like. Especially if his condition was so bad, he was living in this filth.
I took the long way to the hospital. I had my radio blasting so loud, I couldn’t hear anything else. I just wanted to clear my head.
Really, I wanted to escape. I wanted to be back in San Francisco in my familiar apartment (even if it was lonely) and throw myself under my comforter. But I couldn’t become invisible right now. I was needed.
As I stepped out of my car in the hospital parking lot, I noticed dark clouds had shifted over to cover the sun. It cast a deep shadow all across the parking lot and building.
Fantastic. Weather to match my mood.
I had been in contact with the doctor who cared for my father. Before I got on the plane, he instructed me on what to do to find him.
I walked up to the information desk, where a staunch older lady stared at me coldly.
“Hello, I’m here for Matthew Shaw.”
She said nothing at first. She began typing the name into her computer as I awkwardly waited for her response.
“Okay. Go ahead and have a seat. I’m going to page his doctor, and when he’s available, he will come talk to you.”
“Okay… Thanks,” I said as nicely as possible despite her gruffness.
I sat myself down on one of the chairs in the waiting room. They were the traditional waiting room chairs. Wooden, and covered in a scratchy maroon fabric that I carefully traced with my finger.
There was nobody else in the waiting room, which wasn’t surprising. This was a small town. The kind of place where everybody knew everybody.
Which was exactly why I didn’t mind the empty room. I had no desire to see anyone I knew, but the longer I was in this town, the more likely it was that I would.
There was literally nobody I wanted to see in this town. I had a few decent friends growing up, but none of them lived here anymore. And the rest of my classmates growing up treated me like complete shit.
I supposed I wasn’t very discreet about being gay. Even though I wasn’t overly effeminate, it still seemed obvious to everyone around me. Maybe it was in the way I looked at men. You know how when you find someone attractive, you can’t help but let your eyes linger?
I’d have liked to think after eight years, this town had caught up with the times and was no longer as fueled by homophobia as it had been when I was here. But this was still the South, and that was likely wishful thinking.
“Charlie?”
My head jerked up when I heard my name from an unfamiliar voice.
“Yes?” I looked up at the doctor who had used it.
“Hello, I’m Doctor Weissel. Can you come with me?”
“Absolutely.”
I followed him into a corridor where we were surrounded by hospital rooms. I was expecting him to take me straight to my father’s, but he paused in the hallway.
“I was told by the police officer who brought your father in that you had not seen him in eight years. Is that true?”
“It is,” I answered, trying not to blush. It just felt weird hearing such personal information about myself from a complete stranger.
“I see. Then I want to prepare you. The man you are about to see is likely not the man you knew.”
That much I figured out already.
“What exactly is wrong with him?” I asked.
“My diagnosis is Alzheimer’s. A very advanced case. Your father likely won’t recognize you or remember who you are. He has no sense of reality. He doesn’t know where he is and he doesn’t understand why. Sometimes he’s calm, sometimes he’s completely unhinged. So you need to prepare yourself mentally for that.”
The word rang out in my head: Alzheimer’s.
“So… What is the prognosis? How much longer will he live? And with what quality of life?”
“I can’t be sure of any of that. Usually, Alzheimer’s is caught a lot earlier and we’re able to do continual visits and monitor the progression. In this case, I have no idea how long he’s been like this and how far it’s progressed. So it’s impossible to tell how far it will continue to go. Some people live years with the disease and some deteriorate in only a few months.”
I nodded as I tried to swallow the knot in my throat.
“What should I do? Just bring him home and try my best to take care of him?”
Doctor Weissel shook his head. “No, that is not what I’d suggest. I think it would be best if you put him into a care home. Unfortunately, I think the level of care required for him is beyond what you can offer. What anyone can offer, really.”
The hesitance must have been obvious on my face because the doctor continued.
“Son, don’t stress too much over it. I know there is a stigma about putting your parents in a home, but the reality is that it’s often the best and safest place for those who have lost the
ir mental capacities. You can visit him as often as you’d like, but he won’t be nearly as safe under the care of only one person, no matter how vigilant you are.”
“Right, okay.” I nodded. “Are there any care homes you suggest?”
“There is one, Sunnyside Villa. It’s the best place in town. I can call them and set up an appointment for you to speak about costs and accommodations—”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t need to discuss the costs. I’ll pay whatever for the best care. Let’s just transfer him over there.”
Doctor Weissel nodded. “Not a problem. I can have him over there by tomorrow evening. Believe me, you’re making the right choice.”
I nodded again. I knew he was right, I didn’t doubt that. But there was guilt that was currently eating at me, and I just didn’t want to discuss it any further.
“Can I go see him now?” I asked.
“Of course.” Doctor Weissel nodded. “But if I may make a suggestion, try not to correct him too often. He isn’t going to understand what’s going on no matter how much logic you throw his way. If you want him to be at his most comfortable, let him control the narrative. Allow him to decide what’s going on, and play along to the best of your ability.”
“Okay, right, that’s a good idea.”
And it really was. I’d never handled anything as extreme as this and could use any available advice.
I could feel my heart pounding as I approached the door to my father’s room. As I swung the door open, I felt nausea build up inside me.
He was sleeping. He had an IV in his arm. The doctor hadn’t mentioned sedating him, but I was guessing that was what happened because he looked knocked out.
He looked so different. He was so much skinnier than he used to be. Even his beer gut seemed to have disappeared.
I felt weak in the knees. I had to fight the urge to run out of the room. Despite having done everything in my power to fly here immediately, this was now the last place I wanted to be.
I admit, I did think that one day I’d see my father again. I expected this time to come. But I imagined it a lot differently.
