Best Place to Die

Home > Other > Best Place to Die > Page 18
Best Place to Die Page 18

by Charles Atkins


  ‘Kyle’s a good boy,’ Alice said with enthusiasm. ‘Are we going home?’

  ‘We are home,’ Rose said.

  ‘Oh goody!’ Alice’s face lit with joy. ‘Goody goody goody.’

  ‘But, Mom . . .’ Ada looked panicked.

  Lil looked at Rose and out-of-it Alice, and an idea took root. She had two displaced Nillewaug residents living with her. This was a story, or at least it could be. The more she thought about it, the better she liked it. A chance to get away from the reporting of numbers – six hundred displaced, tens of millions in damages and all of the factoids that, while important, robbed the story of its deeper meanings – people had lost their homes, their sense of security and, in five instances, their lives. ‘Rose, would you let me interview you for the paper?’

  ‘Of course, Lil. But why would you want to write about me?’

  ‘Lil?’ Ada looked at her. ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘I think I found my story. Could we do this now?’

  ‘Sure.’ Rose took a couple of steps toward the rock garden and bench. ‘But someone has to keep an eye on Alice, and Aaron’s sleeping. Ada? Could you?’ Rose looked at her daughter. ‘Ada, don’t look so scared. I know you’re trying to think of reasons why I can’t live here. But it’s the logical solution.’ She then turned to Lil, her expression serious. ‘Lil, I’m old, but I’m not stupid. You and Ada need to make the decision. Whether or not you decide to tell me what’s going on is also your choice, the both of you.’

  ‘OK then,’ Lil said, not knowing how to respond, as she realized Rose had guessed that Ada and she had moved beyond best friends. ‘Ada, could you stay with Alice while I interview your mom?’

  ‘Of course.’

  The two women’s eyes met, and Lil went to Ada. Her voice low: ‘I think she knows about us.’

  ‘Probably,’ Ada replied. ‘And she still wants to move in. Do you think she’s right? It makes sense, at least for now.’

  ‘I’m OK with it. In some ways this place is a better fit for her than for us.’

  Ada nodded, deep in thought. ‘Let me get Alice better settled. I think at any rate she’ll be with us for a bit. We’ll talk later.’

  ‘Good.’ Feeling the eyes of the two older women on them, not to mention their across-the-path neighbors, Lil resisted the urge to kiss Ada. It rankled as she realized that when Bradley had been alive, a quick peck as they parted on the walkway would have been standard. Here, with Ada, it would be cause for gossip. ‘I love you,’ Lil whispered.

  ‘Same here, I think we’re about to find out if that’s enough.’ She turned back toward her mother and Alice. ‘Hey, Alice, let’s get you set up.’

  Rose let go of Alice’s hand. She smiled as she looked at her demented friend’s pink walking shoes. She glanced at Lil and shrugged. ‘I got black but she insisted on the pink.’

  ‘You went practical,’ Lil offered.

  ‘Or blah. Can we chat outside?’ She looked toward the stone bench in the middle of the rock garden with its tidy evergreens, budding crocus and tender iris shoots.

  ‘Of course, almost no one sits out here.’ Lil thought about running inside for her recorder or at least a pad, but something told her to not lose the moment.

  ‘What a waste,’ Rose said, settling her stocky frame on the bench. ‘Perfect height for me.’ She sighed. ‘Isn’t that funny?’ she added, looking at the condo across the way.

  ‘What?’ Lil followed her gaze.

  ‘I just saw the curtain in that window move.’ She smiled and waved in the direction of Bernice Framm’s kitchen. ‘This is what living in the country is supposed to be. I’m glad to be out of that place.’

  ‘What was so bad about it?’ Lil asked, realizing that this was the first time Rose and she had had any kind of real conversation without Ada around.

  ‘Where to start?’ She turned and Lil was struck by the depth of her earnestness. ‘It was . . . is . . . a place to die. It’s lovely and the food was good, but lipstick on a pig and it’s still a death house. An abattoir for unwanted grannies.’

  Lil chuckled. ‘You don’t think that’s a bit much?’

  ‘No. Everyone was so old . . . and yes, I have no illusions about my own age. But it’s one thing to know you’re ninety, but another to live in a world where you’re constantly reminded of it. The dining hall was the worst.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘The conversation, and I tried. But all anyone wanted to talk about was how no one visited, and of course . . . their bowels.’ She stared down the path, through her thick glasses her eyes were magnified and seemed unfocused. ‘Those were the two themes – depressed and constipated. The food really was good, though. But it was getting to where I’d just as soon stay in my apartment and microwave frozen dinners.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t blame Ada, though. I know it sounds like I do. In case you haven’t noticed, Lil, it sucks getting old. And New York was getting bad. I couldn’t leave my apartment alone any more. Between my eyes and my hearing, it was too much. I never told her, or my other children . . . last fall I got mugged.’

  ‘That’s terrible. What happened? Were you hurt?’

  ‘It was stupid and it happened fast. I went to the pharmacy, and didn’t feel like waiting for them to deliver. Some kid with a hood over his head followed me out and grabbed my purse. Like an idiot I didn’t let go.’ She shook her head. ‘I was so mad, he broke the strap of my favorite bag and then pushed me hard. I was lucky I was close to a building; if I’d fallen I would have broken my hip. He was swearing at me, like he hated me. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, probably Aaron’s age. I can still picture him. There was spit flying out of his mouth. I screamed at him, “What’s wrong with you?” My bag ripped open and he grabbed my purse and my prescriptions and ran. Probably thought I had some good pills . . . hope he enjoyed my diuretic.’

  ‘Did you call the police?’

  ‘Why? It was done. I had twelve dollars in my purse, and when I got home I cancelled my credit card, and called my doctor to ask him for new prescriptions. But that was the last time I left my apartment alone. I hated feeling that way, frightened to go outside.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell Ada?’

  ‘Because it would just have become more fuel for the “what to do about Mom” discussion. I’d pretty much resigned myself to staying in my apartment until they carted me out in a box. The nurses came, although even they were making trouble. When I had my heart attack last year and stayed with Ada, they’d told me if I couldn’t walk and get around my apartment they wouldn’t come. There was a whole list of things I had to be able to do, or they’d refuse to reopen my case. They said they couldn’t take on the liability.’

  ‘I remember,’ Lil said. ‘There was a checklist.’

  ‘I was so frightened. It was my last bit of freedom. If I couldn’t do each of those tasks, I was convinced I’d land in a nursing home. It was humiliating. I’m a grown woman and suddenly I’m being graded on can I get in and out of bed, out of a chair, on and off the toilet. Can I wipe my own butt? And in the end –’ clapping her hands in front of her – ‘say what you will, but Nillewaug for all of its fancy furniture and ridiculous prices was a nursing home. At least it didn’t smell like piss.’

  ‘But everyone depressed and constipated.’

  ‘Yes . . . and one other thing, dirt poor.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Lil perked at the use of a description not generally applied to the affluent residents. ‘That place was not cheap.’

  ‘You ain’t kidding. My buy-in was close to four hundred grand, and that was after Ada bargained them down from over five. And the monthly fees were three thousand five hundred.’

  ‘That kind of argues against poor. Your typical Nillewaug resident had to have a sizeable nest egg.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Her teeth clenched. ‘That was the other topic of conversation, and boy did that place feed on it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Money and fear. You’
re lucky, Lil. And I know Ada’s set, and because of her I don’t worry about it too much; it’s not like I’m going to end up on the street. She put up most of the buy-in for Nillewaug. If it had been my money, I would never have done it. But money was something that got talked about a lot. And boy did those people play on it.’

  ‘The Nillewaug Promise?’ Lil asked.

  ‘Yes, the promise.’ Rose’s mouth twisted. ‘I got sick of hearing about The Promise. “Don’t worry, you’re set until death you do depart.” But people did worry . . . a lot. And they were angry.’

  ‘About?’

  ‘About being poor, about losing control. We were all encouraged to sign things over to our children, or in some cases our grandchildren.’

  ‘So on paper people would appear to have nothing.’ Lil thought about Fleming’s criticisms of her last story. Yes, she’d brought up the Medicaid fraud angle; what she hadn’t done was explain it. ‘Did that happen to you?’

  ‘I don’t have much. Ada’s the one with money. But some of the other residents were loaded. We’re talking CEOs, family money, or just people who’d invested well and saved for retirement. You’d think that getting us in there and then hitting us up for those monthly fees would have been enough, but that was just the beginning. Is this what you wanted to hear about?’

  Lil nodded.

  ‘Good. The day I moved in there was a thick packet on the kitchen counter and an invitation for “three complementary sessions” with the fat man – Mr Doyle. I imagine it has something to do with why he shot himself. Something wasn’t right.’

  ‘Do you have details? Or know who would?’

  She rocked back slightly catching the sun on her face. ‘Trusts; he pressured a lot of the residents to sign their assets over to their children. I can give you some names, and I know that they weren’t happy about it. Felt like they were forced into doing it. Others . . .’ She looked toward Ada’s condo door. ‘Like Alice, if someone gave all her money away, would she even notice?’

  ‘Her grandson would.’

  ‘Yes, but think about it, Lil. Kyle would do anything for Alice.’ She chuckled, and mimicked Alice: ‘He’s a good boy. But how many children and grandchildren are just waiting for their inheritance? What if some fat guy in a suit with a bunch of degrees behind his desk told you that you didn’t have to wait for grandma to kick the bucket?’

  Lil was struck by Rose’s savvy, and felt slightly ashamed for not having noticed her keen intelligence sooner. ‘So collusion between prospective heirs and Nillewaug. It’s a good theory, Rose, and not far from what I’ve been thinking. What I need is proof.’

  ‘That could be tough. Considering Doyle’s dead, and . . .’ She shuddered. ‘And Ms Preston too. I dreamed about her last night, only she wasn’t falling from Nillewaug but from the Trade Center. Nine eleven was the first time I ever wanted to leave New York. It wasn’t long after that Ada and Harry moved into this place.’

  Lil had never made that connection, but, thinking back, she and Bradley moved in 2002 and Ada and Harry took the adjoining condo a few months later. Before then they’d had a town house in Brooklyn Heights. Ada rarely spoke about 9/11, and whenever it came on the news she’d be shaken by it. The general reason she gave for the move was Harry’s deteriorating health, his heart and lungs and a rapidly progressing dementia. They’d both married men considerably older than themselves, and moving here in their mid fifties had made Lil and Ada two of the youngest in Pilgrim’s Progress. But to hear Rose, she wondered if part of Ada’s exodus from New York had to do with that awful day – living in that part of Brooklyn, one stop from downtown Manhattan; it must have been terrifying.

  ‘Do you think someone is trying to clean house?’ Rose asked.

  ‘It’s possible,’ Lil said, noting how quickly Rose’s mind shifted topics . . . like her daughter’s.

  ‘You do know that the fat man wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box?’

  ‘You don’t think he was competent.’

  ‘I thought he was reading a script,’ she said bluntly. ‘And once he knew that I had no real money, no “assets to protect for my children and grandchildren” . . . He used that phrase a lot. And don’t get me wrong, I am blessed in my family, love them dearly, but if I had a lot of cash I’d blow it on trips to the casino. Which, I cannot believe Ada neglected to tell me, are perfectly possible given that Pilgrim’s Progress has weekly trips to Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun. Do you go?’

  ‘I don’t, but back to Wally Doyle. He wanted you to put your money into a trust?’

  ‘Yes. And it was clearly the point of the interview, like one of those horrible salesmen trying to trick you into a time share by offering you a free vacation. Everything else had been a lead up. I remember having to stop him to say I had no money and he was wasting his time. That it was Ada who was underwriting that ridiculously expensive place. It’s strange . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s almost as if he didn’t believe me. Although –’ she clicked her tongue – ‘that’s not quite it . . . he had trouble accepting what I was telling him, and kept pushing the trust. He could set it up, he’s sure my children would want it . . . I told him “no” repeatedly. But thinking back, I could see how just his persistence would get most people to say yes, just to get him to shut up.’

  ‘Hard sell.’

  ‘Very. But I don’t think this helps your story much. And I doubt Alice would even remember meeting Doyle. And honestly, I don’t think she has much money, either. You need to talk to someone who actually went for it.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Lil said, remembering what Kyle had told her about his grandmother and how he’d arranged for her to stay at Nillewaug. ‘You have someone in mind?’

  ‘Maybe if I saw a list of names.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Lil asked, seeing tears through Rose’s glasses.

  ‘It’s nothing. I was in that place for four months and didn’t really make friends. Maybe I never gave it a chance, but I was so angry. It’s funny, I lived all my life in an apartment in New York that wasn’t much bigger, but moving to Nillewaug . . . it felt like prison . . . or worse. The place before you die. I know that I don’t have a lot of years left. Even just talking about Nillewaug – and what a pretentious name – it makes my chest ache.’

  Lil cut her a worried look.

  She cracked a smile. ‘No, I’m not having a heart attack. But heart sick, in a place like that there’s no hope. You’re there to die, and before you go they’re going to strip you of anything worth taking. Like cows to slaughter . . . it was an abattoir.’

  ‘Really?’ Lil laughed.

  ‘I do love my crossword puzzles. Do you get The Times delivered?’ she asked.

  ‘No.’ Thinking it wouldn’t be a bad idea, if for no other reason than to study the reporting and prose styles of the reporters, Lil told her she’d get it started.

  Rose shrugged. ‘I don’t think I was much help.’

  ‘No, you were.’ And that was the truth although not in the way Lil had anticipated. But again she was left with more questions than answers. She thought about Wally Doyle, pushing past the horrible images of his mangled face. Seeing his fat frame stuffed in a navy suit, sitting next to his pretty blonde wife at church, and then remembering him in the dark purple-and-white Raven’s uniform, an unstoppable behemoth. Rose had made a critical observation – Wally wasn’t that smart, certainly not the type to mastermind a complex financial fraud. Jim Warren on the other hand – absolutely. And Dennis Trask with his sprawling empire of car dealerships – without a doubt. Even Delia Preston, although she was likely more of a cog in a larger machine. Still, there was something about Delia, remembering the fierce intelligence that shone beneath her polished exterior. All of it snuffed out, and someone trying to make it look like an accident.

  Ada called out from her condo, ‘Lil?’ She was carrying a stack of papers. Behind her, Alice followed, having changed into a pink tracksuit that still had the size sticker on t
he leg and her matching pink running shoes. ‘You need to see these.’ And she handed Lil a stack of forms.

  After years in Bradley’s office, Lil immediately recognized the Medicaid statements. They all bore Alice’s name, reassured the recipient ‘This is not a bill’ and then itemized services billed over the prior month. In this case ‘Skilled Nursing Facility’ i.e. a nursing home at the per diem rate of a hundred and ten dollars – thirty-three hundred for the month. Lil’s pulse quickened, realizing that this was potentially a smoking gun. ‘Rose, Alice was your next-door neighbor at Nillewaug, correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Lil looked at the redhead who stood transfixed by a clump of yellow and white daffodils that had bloomed overnight. She thought back to last fall. ‘Ada, do you remember when we met with Delia last year?’

  ‘Of course, why?’

  She stared at Alice; this was not someone who could be deemed capable of living on her own. She needed constant redirection, would be unsafe around a stove, probably need some help dressing. Although so far that hadn’t seemed a huge issue. ‘Rose, the building you lived in was considered independent living?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘Something doesn’t make sense . . . didn’t Delia specifically say they wouldn’t take someone who had dementia as a resident?’

  Ada nodded. ‘She was vague, said something about “a significant degree of”. But then –’ and she too looked at Alice – ‘maybe it wasn’t so bad when she moved in. Delia did say that once they took someone they’d provide care for the long haul. Maybe she wasn’t showing signs when she moved in. Or maybe Kyle was able to keep it under wraps.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Still holding the forms, Lil felt connections take hold.

  Ada commented: ‘I wonder how much money’s involved with this Medicaid scam. Just for Alice, thirty-three hundred a month, just shy of forty grand a year. How many people in that building were they doing that for?’

 

‹ Prev