by Phil Edwards
“Wait. I think I pressed a button. Can you hear me on this thing?”
“I can hear you fine Gary.”
“Jacob—testing, testing. Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you Gary. Do you want to talk?”
“Jacob. I am going to test if you can hear me. This is a test.”
“What is it?”
Meryl yelled something on the other end, and Jake heard a beep.
“Jacob, I’m here. It’s me, Gary!”
“Great Gary. I can hear you.”
“Jacob?”
“Yes?”
“I think I forgot my idea.”
“That’s OK, Gary. I understand.”
“It was such a good idea!”
“I know. I know. I’m sure it was a great idea.”
“Well, that’s the way things will go. Do you need any photographs in the near future?”
“I should be fine.” The air conditioning had finally cooled him down. He put on an old sweatshirt he’d brought down with him. It hardly fit. “Thanks for calling, Gary. But I just have a little thing tomorrow with Mel. Then I’m talking to some lady and doing research at the library.”
“An interview with a lady? I’ll come out.”
“No, she’s nothing. Not a story—just a crazy woman. Don’t bother.”
“Where is it? Sunset Cove?”
“Well, yes. But really, we won’t run anything about her. It doesn’t have to do with the landscape piece. She just approached me randomly.”
“I’ll meet you at Sunset Cove. What time? Meryl, get me a writer.”
“Really, Gary, don’t bother. I’m going over around nine, but you don’t—”
“I’ve got a pen. 9 AM. Sunset Cove. Will we be needing my new special lens?”
“Gary, it’s not necessary.”
“No special lens?”
“No.”
“Anywhere particular in the Cove?”
“I’m serious.” He didn’t want to say it, but he needed to this time. “We won’t pay you for it.”
He waited for Gary to respond. He heard him breathing.
“No problem!” Gary shouted. “I’ll practice with my new lens. It’ll be perfect. And you wanted me to test it out. So 9AM, Sunset Cove. What’s the room?”
It wasn’t worth fighting.
“Fine. Room 112, Building B. I might be a few minutes later than nine though, so—”
“I’m there. And if I remember my idea, I’ll write it down this time.”
“Thanks Gary. All right. I should go.”
“Jacob?” He repeated it louder. “Jacob? Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you Gary.”
“Jacob. Can. You. Hear. Me.”
“Yes, I can hear you.”
“Jacob?”
“Yes?”
“Good night.”
Gary hung up and left Jake holding the phone, shaking his head. At least he hadn’t had the cream soda.
CHAPTER 3:
Things started so early in Sarasota. He got up near sunrise and took care of some work. Cleaned up an article about the best “New York” diners in the Sarasota area. None of them were very good, especially when you were on a permanent diet. He went for another run since he didn’t know if he’d have time when he got back. It went longer than he thought—by the time he’d showered, had breakfast, and gotten dressed, he was running late. When he got to Sunset Cove, it was already almost nine.
Mel had dressed up for him. He could tell. When he showed up that morning, she had on a red dress. The waist high, again, with a white flower print on the dress, scattered. She looked good. Maybe too good. Her hair looked wavier and a little darker than it had before. He knew he needed to be confident, so he asked her if the pattern on her dress showed the rare flowers she’d forgotten. She liked it. Then she told him she hadn’t learned the name of the flowers yet.
“So that’s all you came by for?”
“I just had to check that fact.”
“Oh, OK.”
He wasn’t aggressive enough for this job.
“Is there anything else that I should know?”
“I don’t think so. I’m sorry that we can’t get the landscaping people to talk to you. But I don’t think your readers know Spanish.”
She laughed a little loudly. He did too.
“Well, thanks again. Mel.”
“Any time.” She looked around and clasped her hands. “I like your shirt.”
“It’s just a collared shirt.”
“You don’t see those enough these days.”
“True.” He rubbed his hands together. “That’s a really nice dress.”
“Really?”
“Really. It is.”
More aggressive.
They walked from the patch of grass where the garden would be into her office. Mel’s room just had a desk, a phone, and a flat screen TV showing ads for various Rothschild properties. They looked at it a bit and listened to the music in the background. She walked to her desk and brought him a piece of paper.
“Did you see this article about us?”
“Of course.”
“Very exciting, isn’t it? And they ranked all our properties not just for size, but for quality too. It’s so flattering.”
“That’s true.” Jake handed it back to her. “I’ve done a few of those “Best of” surveys. Worked on them. Mine covered different subjects than retirement communities, of course, but I can still get an idea of things. I get the impression that this one’s on the up and up.”
“Aren’t all of them?”
“You’d hope.” They listened to the music again. He picked out a melody but couldn’t match it to a song.
“I should be going.” Be aggressive.
“Home?”
“Not quite. Some woman here wanted me to talk to her. I agreed. So I’m going to go make a house call.”
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know actually. I just got her number.”
Mel blushed. She sat on her desk and crossed her legs at the knees. Her toenails were painted red.
“Oh really, Jake? ‘Just got her number.’ Are you dating one of our residents?”
They laughed. She shook her hair back and touched his arm. He blushed the color of her dress.
“I wish. I’m not that lucky.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Nope.” Be aggressive.
“I’m sure you could find a date.”
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
“You know you could.”
“Well then. Have a good day.”
He was sweating even in the air conditioning. The muzak was stuck in his head and he kept repeating the melody over and over. Then he repeated the command. Be aggressive. He was different now, he could pull it off. But he kept walking away. He felt the rush of air as he opened the door and a little bell rang. Now he had to talk to an old lady. It fit. The door started to shut behind him.
“Jake, wait.”
He turned back. She slid off the desk and stood up.
“I was wondering...”
“Yeah?”
“Since you aren’t dating any of our residents, I was wondering what you were doing tomorrow night.”
“I’m not sure.” He knew he was doing nothing. “Why do you ask?”
“Mr. Rothschild is having a banquet tomorrow. It’s to celebrate his various charitable donations. Of course, really it’s to celebrate him. A lot of people from the company and the community will be there.”
“Sure.” He got out his notebook. “If you think I should report on it…”
“No.” She clasped her hands again. “I was hoping you’d take me. Not as a reporter though.”
“Really?”
“I’m sorry. It’s probably unprofessional. A conflict of interest. I shouldn’t have—”
“No. I’d love it.”
“You would?”
“Of course. And not as a reporter. As a person.” He was sw
eating again. She laughed.
“Can you pick me up here sometime tomorrow night?”
“What time would be good?”
“7 PM. Fortunately, Mr. Rothschild doesn’t eat dinner as early as most of our residents.”
“No, that’s great.” He felt his neck turning red. The blush moved down his body.
“Great. It’s a date.”
“I’ll see you then.”
“Oh, and it’s semi-formal dress. So I’ll be better dressed than this.”
She looked great. He wanted to tell her. Be aggressive. But he’d done well enough. He gave her a wave goodbye and the bell dinged again as he opened the door. He could feel himself smiling, even though he couldn’t see it. Outside, everything looked beautiful. It wasn’t even hot yet, even though it was…
He looked at his watch.
He was late. It was already 9:10. The old woman probably didn’t have anything to do, but he still didn’t like to keep people waiting. And he hadn’t been in any of the residences before. That was something to look forward to. He might even be able to work a detail or two into one of his pieces. “Residents in some condo communities put out welcome mats in the hallway, even though they are indoors.” A white haired woman walked by, dragging a dog along a leash. That welcome mat thing seemed like something she would do.
He walked briskly down the winding path. He knew where Building B was, but he wished he knew the woman’s name. At least he had the number: 112. As he reached the bottom of the path, he looked at his watch again. 9:13. He’d apologize to the woman before she started her little story.
But when he rounded the corner, he didn’t see the door to the building. He saw something else. Something he didn’t expect. The door to the complex was being held open by a rock. And two men in white clothes were going in and out. An ambulance was parked on the curb next to the building and the back doors were open. He ran around and looked in the ambulance’s cab. No one was inside yet.
He ran to the propped open door and grabbed one of the men on the shoulder, a short Hispanic kid who smelled like aftershave.
“What happened here? Is everything OK?”
“Sorry sir, we’re very busy.”
“I know, just tell me what happened.”
“An accident.” A walkie talkie buzzed but the kid ignored it.
“What kind of accident?”
The kid strained to hear his walkie talkie. Someone came out of the building—an elderly man wearing a red-brimmed hat. Jake turned away from the kid and caught the man.
“Sir, what’s going on? What happened here?”
“Oh, they wouldn’t let me look in. But this always happens. Happens every few days. A sad thing though.”
The man shook his head.
“What? What happened?”
He tipped his hat and started walking away.
“Sir,” Jake said. “Can you tell me what room this happened in?”
“Charlotte’s room.” He turned back. “She’s in room 112.”
The old man walked off and Jake ran his hands through his hair. Room 112 in Building B. He looked at the ambulance idling by the curb. He could imagine the siren spinning around, glinting red when it took her body away. Bright bright red. The same color as Mel’s dress.
CHAPTER 4:
The Hispanic kid was more talkative when he wasn’t distracted by his walkie talkie. While he sat in the passenger seat of the ambulance, Jake talked to him. The driver finished paperwork for the call.
“Does this sort of thing happen a lot?” Jake asked. He stood on the curb, still breathing heavily. The kid leaned out the window.
“Oh yeah, all the time.”
“Do you get used to it?”
“I wouldn’t want to.” He squinted. Might have been thinking. Or it could have been the sun.
“Why don’t you want to get used to it?”
Jake got out his notebook and pen. He started writing it down.
“It’s good to stay nervous. It keeps you on top of your game.”
“That’s great.”
The driver said something to the kid. Jake waited and the kid buckled his seatbelt.
“We have to go. Call at the Palmstead. Nothing urgent.”
“Sometimes you just drive a loop from here to there, I bet.”
“Sometimes.”
“So is there anything else?”
“Just make sure he stays off his feet for a bit. And don’t let him exert himself again. He needs rest. But otherwise he should be fine.”
The ambulance drove away slowly. They didn’t have to turn on the siren.
As soon as the man in the red-brimmed hat told him about room 112, Jake had started running. He couldn’t stand outside any longer. He’d run into the hallway and looked left as the numbers slipped down. 118, 116, 114. When he got to 112, he stopped—the old woman was outside the door, leaning over her walker.
“If you’re here,” he asked, “who’s in there?”
“A gentleman showed up at my door. He was wheezing. And he had a heavy case around his neck, a type of case with a strap.”
“And what happened?”
“Well, the case seemed to have shifted while he was walking. I think the strap was strangling him. His face was almost purple.”
“The strap was strangling him?” He looked inside but couldn’t see past the half-shut door.
“The case was too heavy, with the strap wrapped around his neck like that. He fainted right in front of me.”
Jake pushed past the door and saw the kid and the ambulance driver crowded around a large recliner. The camera case was on the floor and Gary Novak was passed out in the chair with an attendant on each arm.
He was still sitting there when Jake came back in the building after the ambulance left. Now that he knew everyone was OK, he could look for details. None of the doors in the hall had welcome mats. But Charlotte’s condo looked like he’d expected. The living room had pictures of family members on the walls and the whole space smelled like cinnamon. It was a little dark because the blinds were closed. Charlotte was slowly wheeling her walker over to Gary’s chair while she tried to balance a glass of water on a tray. She needed help.
“Charlotte, let me get that.”
She turned and stopped.
“How did you know my name?”
“Sorry. A man outside told me.”
He stopped for a moment.
“You see, I thought the ambulance was here for you.”
She started wheeling closer to Gary. Jake pointed at him.
“Let me introduce the man passed out on your chair. That gentleman is Gary Novak.”
“You know this man?”
She handed Gary the water. He took it and rested it on the arm of the chair. He stared down at his stomach and glared angrily at the camera case. Jake shrugged.
“He’s my photographer. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad he survived.”
Suddenly, Gary looked up. His white hair fluffed around his ears like ripped cotton balls, and the top of his bald head was shining with sweat.
“Jacob! I saw the white light, I am thinking! I saw that big flash bulb in the sky. The bright light!”
Charlotte eyed the water as Gary waved around his arms. With each move the water almost spilled. He reached his hand out to Jake, spreading his fingers wide.
“I saw it for a second, I think. It was after I fainted. I felt death pulling at me. It was gripping at my neck.”
“Gary, I think that was the strap on your camera case.”
“Death was gripping also. And then a tiny pin prickling of light. Then I woke up. This woman, she was slapping me in the face.”
Charlotte sat down in a wooden chair next to Gary. She leaned forward as she sat and looked like she was about to pick up a penny off the floor.
“I had to slap him,” she whispered. “That’s how we woke him up.”
“I wasn’t complaining. You saved my life!” He looked at the
camera case angrily another time.
“So how did this happen?”
“Jacob, I am glad you asked.” He sipped from the water glass and rested it on the arm of the chair again. “I was here at 8:58 sharp. Two minutes earlier than you asked me to be here! But I’ve always been prompt. As a boy, sometimes the other children called me prompt. They had a nickname for it. I forget what it was.”
Charlotte coughed. Jake stood up.
“Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine. Where is he from?”
“I don’t think he remembers.”
“Anyway,” Gary continued, “I knew I didn’t have time for two trips. No time! I couldn’t let down my reporter. But in addition to my camera, I had the special lens you said I had to bring. So I put the camera case around my neck and then held the lens with my left hand. I use my right hand for my cane.”
Charlotte looked at Jake. She was wearing a purple dress with frills around the neck. She folded her arms across her knees, like she was cold, and Gary picked up his cane.
“Have you seen my cane?”
He held it out and she looked at it.
“It’s from Ethiopia! My son had it especially made for me. My height. The tribes there love to make canes. My son, he bought it from a store in LA.”
“Anyway, Gary, you were walking…”
“And I felt the camera case start to swing around. So I lifted up my shoulder.” He jerked it up to demonstrate and the water nearly spilled. “And then I had to do the other one to balance it out.”
He jerked the other shoulder. Charlotte reached for the water glass but stopped. Gary sipped again and finished it. They all exhaled.
“But then,” he continued, “I had to keep switching my shoulders, because as soon as I relocated one I dislocated the other. So then, Jacob, I realized that each time I did it I was pulling the camera strap around my neck. By the time I reached the door of this young lady, I was being choked by it!”
Charlotte smiled and took the water glass away.
“Do you remember what happened next?”
“All I remember is everything becoming extraordinarily dizzy. Then, kaput. I was out. But I wasn’t ready to go to the light. Not yet Jacob! Not yet!”
