W: The Planner, The Chosen

by Alexandra Swann

  “Good afternoon, everybody. Thank you for coming here today. You may have noticed that it’s a little hot in here, so I will be brief.” Kris paused and smiled, but no one smiled back, so she continued, “First of all, I want to introduce myself. I am Kris Mitchell; I work for the FMPD as a Level I Planner. This week your regular liaison, Peter Watson, is on vacation, so I am covering for him while he is gone. The reason that I asked everyone to be here today was to bring you up to date on the water situation. We have received a lot of calls to our offices this week about the water being cut off between 10 and 4 every day….”

  Kris was interrupted by shouts of complaint followed by some hissing and booing. She stayed calm and motioned for everyone to be quiet. In a few minutes, she was able to go on, “Look, the Smart Communities are designed to be environmentally-friendly. A strong commitment to water conservation is a key component of our dedication to environmental responsibility. We have to preserve our water resources, especially during the summer months. For that reason, the FMPD has mandated water restrictions by requiring that the water to the individual units be turned off from 10:00 A.M. to 4:00 P.M. each day. This is not just here in Division 2—it is a Division-wide policy that started on Monday. Tomorrow I am going to have this same talk with the residents of Division 1. And, by the way, these restrictions are also in place at the community where I reside. I checked with maintenance this morning, and since Monday there has been no water available to our units between 10:00 and 4:00. I just didn’t know it because I was at work. The summer water conservation schedule will last until September 7, the Monday after Labor Day Weekend.”

  This announcement brought more boos and more shouts, “So what are we supposed to do without water for six hours? Sure it’s fine for you because you’re at work all day. What about us?”

  Again Kris motioned for the crowd to be quiet. “How many of you attended a town hall meeting and then an orientation before you moved in?” Nearly the entire crowd raised their hands, and Kris knew that those who did not raise their hands were merely being obstinate—every resident had attended a preliminary town hall meeting and then a one-on-one orientation because both were mandatory before taking up residence in a W community. “Okay, most of you raised your hands—and I know for sure that the rest of you also attended those two meetings because everyone does. In your town hall and your orientation, we stressed the importance of community. Part of our commitment to community is a commitment to the greater good of the planet, and we commit to that through water-saving measures. W is meant to truly be a community—not just a place to crash for the rest of your lives. The culture of W is built around community—social interaction, volunteering, involvement with other people. If you live in this community the way it was designed to be lived in, you won’t have a problem. The common buildings and areas all have water 24 hours a day. That means that the dining hall, this community center, the health and fitness center, the shops—all have water. The only areas that are on restricted water access are your individual units. So if you are getting out into the community, volunteering, and participating in activities, you are not going to notice that your units don’t have water, just like I did not notice that the water in my unit was disconnected from 10 until 4 because I wasn’t there. I’m at work—there’s water at work—so I don’t have a problem. If you will get out into the community each day and start participating, you won’t have a problem either.

  “We now know the water schedule, so we can plan our lives accordingly. We know that there is water in the units from 4:00 P.M. to 10:00 A.M., so that is the time to take showers and to plan your indoor activities in your units. If you want to have friends over to play cards or checkers or whatever—plan those activities after 4:00 P.M. If you or your spouse is slightly under the weather and will be staying in all day, store some water in a jug before the 10:00 A.M. cut off. I checked over at the general store here, and they sell some containers of various shapes and sizes which should meet your needs. Of course, if you or your partner becomes seriously ill, you need to call the doctor and go to the clinic. Otherwise, take this opportunity to get to know your community. Get out of your units, make some friends, get involved in some activities. If you do, you will find that this water thing doesn’t affect your life at all. Now, it’s really hot in here, so I am going to end this meeting. Everyone is dismissed, but if you have specific questions, I will be here for a few minutes, and I am glad to answer any questions you may have today about the water or any other issues you want to bring up.”

  Immediately, residents began filing out of their seats and toward the doors. Kris had taken off her suit jacket and was fanning herself with her own business card as she waited to see whether anyone would come up to the front to talk with her. Just as she was about to leave she saw a tiny, thin woman with a shock of curly gray hair and piercing blue eyes approaching her.

  “My name is Eileen Bergman,” said the same raspy voice Kris had heard over the phone the day before.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Eileen,” Kris offered her hand. “I hope that we were able to answer all of your questions to your satisfaction just now.”

  “It’s certainly not to my satisfaction, but it is what it is. That’s not why I came over to talk to you. I still need to know what you people are going to do for Casper.”

  “Casper?” Kris repeated. “Who’s Casper?”

  “Casper—my English sheep dog. I have already talked to Peter about this issue over and over. I need to know what you are doing and when we will hear something.”

  Kris studied the little woman closely. She was very distinctive looking, and she looked oddly familiar. Suddenly Kris remembered—this woman had been present at her first town hall meeting. “I think I have met you before,” Kris commented. “Did you have four English sheep dogs?”

  Eileen nodded, “I did. They were like my kids—they were better than some of my kids. Those dogs were show dogs; I took them to Westminster three years in a row. Then suddenly I get a letter from the government, and Elliot and I end up moving here, and I’m told that I have to get rid of all but one. That’s what you told me—only one pet. Those dogs weren’t pets—they were my family. It nearly killed me to get rid of them, but I found homes for all of them. The only one I kept was Casper—he’s been with me the longest. And now he has a tumor, and he needs surgery, and the vet here won’t authorize it. He says that Casper needs to be put down; his care would cost more credits than we receive in a month, he says. So I called Peter and went over this with him; he said he would get back with me, but he never did. Now he’s gone on vacation, and you’re here. I want to know what you plan to do about this.”

  “To be honest, Eileen, this is the first I have heard about this issue. I don’t know what we can do. I think you might need to wait for Peter to get back next week to see where he is on this problem.”

  “I’m not waiting anymore for anybody,” snapped Eileen. “Casper can hardly get up. It’s so hard for him to eat; he’s lost twenty pounds—from one hundred to eighty in the last three weeks. He can barely drink water. All Peter is doing is stalling for time until he dies. This is ridiculous. You people promised to take care of us for life. You promised to provide all of our medical care. That’s the main reason I agreed to move here. Casper is part of my family, and a promise to take care of us includes a promise to take care of him.”

  “Okay,” Kris could see that Eileen was both angry and distraught. Kris had never been an animal-lover herself, and she had never had much patience for people who were. But she did have a particular fondness for big, furry, gray and white English sheepdogs. Besides, she tried each day to remind herself that W required a huge psychological and lifestyle adjustment for the residents who moved into the community. The loss of a loved pet could be a genuine emotional blow to someone who had just experienced the stress of so much change.

  “I am just filling in for Peter, but I will try to help you if I can. If the community vet has already diagnosed Casper, I
should be able to get a copy of the report. I will talk to my supervisor about it, and I will call you back.”

  “When?” Eileen demanded, “Because yesterday you said that you would call me back, and, instead, I got a message over W.net that you were having this meeting here today. That’s not the same thing.”

  Now for the first time, Kris was angry. She wanted to say, “No, it’s a lot more work for me to come down here and talk to everybody in person than it is to leave you a voicemail saying, ‘The water’s off until next September—deal with it.’” Instead, she forced a smile and said, “I will call you back before the end of the day tomorrow.”

  “I’ll wait to hear from you,” Eileen turned on her heel and walked out without so much as a goodbye. Before she left the community, Kris went by the veterinary clinic and asked for a copy of Casper’s medical report. When the vet saw her ID, he turned over Casper’s medical records. The prognosis was not good. Casper was seven years old—the normal life expectancy of an Old English Sheep Dog is only between ten and twelve years. The vet had diagnosed a large malignant tumor in the dog’s breast area. If the tumor were removed and Casper received a course of radiation treatments, the vet projected that the dog might live out his remaining five-year lifespan. If not, he would not last more than two weeks. The problem was that the surgery and radiation therapy were projected to cost more than Eileen’s total year’s worth of credits.

  Kris asked for a copy of the records to take with her as she left. She would discuss this with Pat before leaving tomorrow, and she would relay whatever she learned back to Eileen, but she was not optimistic.

  The next day between her town hall meeting at 7:30 and her presentation regarding the water to Division 1 (which would be identical to her presentation to Division 2 minus her conversation with Eileen) she was able to secure a few minutes with Pat Kilmer just before lunch to discuss Casper’s fate. “Normally I would not get involved with this, Pat. Peter is coming back next week. But the dog is dying, and this lady is completely distraught. Her understanding of lifetime medical care is that her pet should be covered as a member of the household. Is there anything that we can do for her?”

  Pat shook her head, “You had it right the first time. Peter is back next week. He has talked to me about this before. The dog is not a member of the household. She can’t afford the treatments. These people are living on the taxpayer’s dime. Other than providing them with shelter, food, and medical care we are not obligated to do anything for them, and we are certainly not obligated to do anything for their dogs.”

  “So what do I tell her? I promised to call her back today, and, believe me, she is watching the clock waiting for the phone to ring. Do I tell her to wait for Peter? What do you want me to say?”

  “No, I don’t want to have this conversation again next week. What part of ‘no’ is this woman not understanding? Tell her that you looked into it, and her request for medical care for Casper has been denied twice. There is no point in continuing this conversation, Kris. Tell her to enjoy the time she has left with the dog and stop bothering us. That animal is not getting any more treatment; we are not spending one more dollar on it.”

  Kris was not surprised by Pat’s answer, but she dreaded making the phone call to Eileen. She dreaded it so much that she put it off until she came back from her meeting with Division 1 and then until almost 5:00 P.M. She had blocked off this evening to take the train into the city to shop for her parents, so she needed to leave on time tonight. At ten minutes before 5:00 she picked up the phone and dialed Eileen’s number.

  When Eileen answered, she got right to the point, “Eileen, this is Kris. I am very sorry to have to tell you this, but I had a meeting with the Assistant Regional Director today. She will not authorize any additional medical care for Casper. I really am very sorry, but she advises you to enjoy the time that you have left with him.”

  There was a long pause, and then Eileen spoke. Her tone was very angry but not surprised. Kris guessed that she actually knew that she had already been turned down twice—she had just been hoping to get a different answer this time. “I suppose you think that’s it. Well, you’re wrong. I read every word of the lease I signed here. It says that all residents of W are entitled to lifetime health care. And in section B, pets are identified as non-human residents.

  “The last time that a government locked a whole bunch of people into a neighborhood, rationed their food and water and allowed them to die without care was in October, 1940, in Warsaw, Poland. My grandfather died in Warsaw. So if you think that I am going to let you push me around and tell me that I need to ‘enjoy Casper’ you’re going to be in for a big surprise. You tell the Assistant Regional Director that I am meeting with my Congressman tomorrow—I am going to tell him everything that is going on here. I want an investigation launched into this place. When I leave his office, I am going to go see a friend of mine who works for the Phoenix Sun and talk to him. I want everyone to know that if you move into W, your pet will die a terrible death with no one to care for him. Casper is going to be the most expensive dog you ever didn’t pay to care for.”

  Kris shook her head—an involuntary motion since Eileen could not see it. “You are certainly free to visit your Congressman whenever you like, but you need to remember that the Smart Seniors Communities and the entire FMPD were authorized by Congress as part of the Retire America Act. I will pass your remarks and intentions on to the Assistant Director.”

  That ended the conversation. Just before she shut off her computer, Kris typed an email to Pat: “Spoke with Eileen Bergman, unit 1023 at Division 2 regarding your decision per Casper. She says she is going to her Congressman and then the newspaper. Just wanted you to know.” When she had typed the last words, she turned off the computer and walked out of the office.

  Going to the mall was almost like traveling back in time. It was air conditioned and full of people who seemed to have normal lives. She walked through various stores until she finally found items that she thought her parents would enjoy and could actually use. For Janine she picked out a new pair of rose pink silky pajamas and matching satin robe and a gift set of her favorite perfume which included not only the spray but also the body lotion and a scented talcum powder. For Jim she found cotton-blend shirts in the style that he always wore and a bottle of his favorite cologne. She finished it off with a small gift card for each of them to their favorite department store. They could take the train up to the mall some Saturday and get any little items they might like to have. She waited to have her packages gift wrapped by the store clerk—Kris was all thumbs when it came to anything artistic, so she much preferred to have someone else do the wrapping. She left the mall with her bag of packages feeling pretty good about the weekend ahead. By the time she got back to her unit, she had forgotten that Eileen ever existed.

  She was very surprised, therefore, to receive a text message to her Smart Phone the next morning at 7:00. The message read, “Important email from Director Leonard Scott’s office in your email box.” Kris logged in from her laptop to read the message. “Please convey our apologies to Eileen Bergman with regard to our handling of Casper’s illness. I have authorized all medical care and treatment for Casper beginning immediately. W Division 2 will bear the costs of his surgery, radiation treatment, and any other expenses for his care.”

  This time Kris really was shocked. She had never seen Pat or Leonard Scott apologize for anything. Eileen’s threat had actually worked—who would have thought that was even possible? Kris called the main number for Division 2 and asked to be transferred to unit 1023. A man’s voice answered the phone. “May I speak to Eileen, please? This is Kris Mitchell.”

  “Hold on,” responded the man.

  A few seconds later a familiar raspy voice spoke, “Hello.”

  “Good morning, Eileen. I am sorry to call you so early, but I actually have some good news for you. I got an email this morning from the Regional Director’s office. He is reversing the Assistant Director’s
decision and will authorize all of Casper’s medical care including surgery and radiation. I wanted to call you as soon as I heard.”

  “Okay, well, that was easy,” and for the first time Kris heard a raspy laugh. The voice on the other end of the line sounded so relieved and happy.

  “Yes, actually it was,” now Kris laughed too. “I think you got somebody’s attention.”

  “So when can we start treatment?”

  “The email said that the Director will be authorizing the treatment today, so I think you should call the vet today and see if he can go ahead and schedule the surgery.”

  “That’s wonderful news. Thank you for calling me.”

  For the first time in a long time Kris was smiling when she went to work that morning. She had seen so much anger and complaining since the day she had started that she had gotten used to dealing with it. Now, someone was actually happy for a change. She had almost forgotten how good it felt to be able to solve a problem for someone. Even though the rest of her day was filled with the usual complaints and whining, she reminded herself over and over that, at least, she had been able to help Eileen.

  On Saturday she dressed up as much as she could for dinner with her parents. She wanted this night to be special for them. Picking up her bag containing the gifts, she walked to the train platform and then boarded the commuter train to travel to her parents’ unit at W. They were expecting her, and they opened their gifts before going to dinner. Jim and Janine seemed pleased and genuinely appreciative, but there was a little underlying sadness. Maybe they were silently comparing this year to previous ones; if so, they didn’t say so.

  At the restaurant the mood turned more festive. In happier days, the three of them had frequented this restaurant—before Karyn and her family had moved to Dallas they used to join Kris and Jim and Janine for dinner there, so the place was full of wonderful memories of great steaks and salads and huge baked potatoes stuffed with sour cream and chives and flourless chocolate cake with just a hint of raspberry served with expertly-prepared coffee. Kris and her parents reminisced about those days, and for a few hours each of them felt as though they had turned the clock back to better days—before so many financial problems brought on crushing stress, before they each experienced the loss of everything they had worked for, before FMPD and W. They sat talking for hours—each hoping to freeze that moment as long as possible before they returned to their present lives.