An Absent Mind(30)

“Son,” she said, “please don’t leave me here. I promise to behave. Let me come back home.”

I was floored. And frankly, I didn’t know what to do or say. Thank God a nurse rushed out, corralled her, and guided her back into the building—but not before the woman pleaded again for me to take her with me.

I closed the window of the taxi and gave the driver the address of the garage where my car was being serviced. The cabbie didn’t say a word until we got there. Then he turned around and hissed, “You should be ashamed of yourself. How could you treat your mother that way?”

I said, “She’s not my mother.”

He said, “Just get out of my cab. You disgust me.”

It was obvious I wasn’t going to change his mind, so I just threw the fare on the front seat and slammed the door. You couldn’t make this stuff up if you tried.





Monique





Day 217—Dinner for Two


I never want to see this place again. It’s bad enough when I’m home alone at night, thinking about all the terrible things that must be going on here, but to be here and witness them myself—it’s criminal!

Sometimes I wish Saul would have killed himself when he was first diagnosed. It would have saved him from this miserable existence, and saved the children and me from our unbearable agony.

Today was awful. I’m told it will get even worse, but I can’t imagine how. I was late—I usually like to get there before lunch so that I can help Saul with his food. It isn’t that the people on the staff aren’t good, but there just aren’t enough of them to give the personal attention I want for him.

When I reached the fourth-floor lounge, an elegant lady with snow-white coiffed hair, dressed in a silk suit with a fancy silver broach, was sitting erect at one end of a long banquet table covered with blue-and-white-checkered plastic. Saul sat at the other end, in his polo shirt, hunched over. They were the only two at the table. The scene reminded me of one of those dinners between a husband and wife in a European castle, where they were so far apart that they couldn’t hear each other talk—and probably preferred it that way.

Saul was quite agitated. Wouldn’t you be, having to suffer like he is? He was banging on his plate with his spoon, softly at first, and then louder, as if building up to a grand crescendo. One of the staff took the spoon from his hand. He picked up his fork and started banging again. Suddenly, the woman at the other end of the table shouted at him to shut up and stuck her tongue out.

The others in the lounge didn’t even look up. But Saul did, and he started to bang louder and louder. Now the woman was on her feet, furious, waving her fist at Saul with such ferocity that I was scared she was going to go over and punch him. The orderlies didn’t seem concerned—all in a day’s work, I guess.

The woman continued shaking her fist and called him a bastard, yelling that his teeth would fly if he didn’t shut up. Then she began using the “F” word, saying she was going to f…ing kill him if he didn’t shut up. Well, let me tell you, I would have f…ing killed her if she’d gotten any closer to him.

This went on for just a few moments—Saul banging, and the woman threatening him. Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped, and it was as if nothing had happened.





Saul





Day 217—The Woman


biTchy! BitCh!





Monique





Day 231—Just Another Day at the Manoir


Do you remember the lady who sat across from Saul at the lunch table a couple of weeks ago? The one who threatened him because she didn’t like him banging his fork? Well, today when I arrived at the Manoir just after noon, there she was, sitting in her same spot. One of the attendants told me that she causes a big scene if anyone tries to take her place at the head of the table. Another woman was seated beside her, also dressed to the nines. They seemed to be caught up in very serious conversation. You would think they were solving the world’s problems. But when I moved closer, I realized that neither one was saying anything coherent, in French or English.

The other chairs were occupied by an assortment of loonies. I’m sorry. I don’t mean that, but sometimes I really believe that all these people are so much further gone than Saul, that their behavior is rubbing off on him, propelling him quickly down the abyss. Look at him sitting over there, oblivious to me or any of the others. That’s not the way he was when he arrived here. And look at that Italian guy chewing his food over and over. It reminds me of when I went to a spa years ago. They taught us it was healthy to chew every piece of food twenty times before swallowing. This guy must be doing it a hundred times. It will be dinnertime before he finishes lunch.

And look at the man beside him, whistling through his false teeth. The sound is driving me crazy. And the woman who seems to have hijacked her fellow diners’ orange juice cans and keeps moving them around like some kind of shell game. Other than that old witch and her friend, none of them is even talking to any of the others, let alone aware of the others’ presence.

I must be honest with you. I am torn about coming down here, but I do come every day. The kids haven’t been pulling their weight. Well, that’s not really fair. Florence has been here a lot, considering her work and that she has to be there for Howard and Daniel. And she always brings some of Saul’s favorite foods, although he doesn’t seem to remember he likes them.