by Mike Befeler
Jennifer came bounding down the stairs.
“You look the same age as my granddaughter,” Helen said. “She’s in seventh grade at Casey Middle School.”
“Cool. Does she play tennis? I’m still learning.”
“Yes she does. You two will have to get together.”
“That would be great. I’m always looking for new people to play. That’s the best way to improve your game. Now remember, Grandpa, don’t be too late.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” I said and gave Jennifer a hug.
“Quite a young lady,” Helen said as we walked to the car.
“Darn right. She has more energy than any dozen adults.”
Helen drove us to the restaurant, and we were seated at a table next to a large plate glass window overlooking the stream. Aspen leaves quivered in the evening breeze, and I could see two boys with fishing poles along the creek. I thought back to when I had gone fishing with my dad when I was their age. Now I was the fish with Detective Lavino trying to yank me out of my safe habitat.
We scanned the eclectic menu and ordered a game platter for hors d’oeuvres to go with steak and lobster.
“I’ve been fortunate,” I said. “I can still eat anything.”
“That goes for me too,” Helen replied. “I walk every day and that seems to keep me in shape and my appetite healthy.”
I admired her shape. Not bad.
“Now regarding Colorado Mountain Retirement Properties,” I said. “I recommend that you don’t put a dime into that outfit.”
“Why’s that?”
“After that big spiel, there’s nothing to show for it but an empty field full of weeds and prairie dog mounds.”
“Maybe they’re running behind on the development.”
“I’m convinced it’s a scam. They stated that the development had started, but we didn’t find a lick of evidence that they had done anything. I think they’re trying to get people’s money up front and then will declare bankruptcy, having run off with the funds.”
“Well, thanks for the warning. I’ll keep looking.”
We had a pleasant dinner, discussing our backgrounds.
Over a serving of crème brulé that we shared, Helen asked, “Do you have any hobbies?”
I thought of saying that I collected murders, but restrained myself. “Nothing much anymore. I read short stories and do whatever I can to irritate my son. And you?”
She sighed. “I love gardening. Give me a spot of dirt and a trowel and I can while away the day.”
“Gardening and I never saw eye to eye. When I planted seeds, only rocks came up.”
“Come now, Paul. You couldn’t have been that bad.”
“You’re right. I did have a knack for growing weeds.”
She whacked me on the arm.
Afterward, Helen said, “It’s such a warm spring evening, let’s take a little walk. Have you been to the Pearl Street Mall?”
“No, I haven’t explored much of this town yet.”
“We’ll be able to see street performers this time of year.”
“I’m always game for a performing street.”
Helen drove us down the canyon and found a parking spot in town. We walked several blocks and came to a street lined with trees and a walkway. Helen grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. I felt like a teenager on his first date.
“Oh, look,” Helen said. “There’s the Zip Code Man.”
“What the hell is a zip code man?”
She laughed. “He knows all the zip codes in the country. Come watch.”
A crowd of people stood around a man who had placed a long chain on the ground in the shape of the United States. He asked people to shout out their zip codes, and he placed them around the map of the country. Then he told a story how Mary from Seattle took a trip across country and met Fred in Salt Lake City and then Ralph in Des Moines.”
“I’ll be damned,” I said. “He really knows all the zip codes. He must have as good a memory as mine.”
Helen looked at me. “You have a good memory?”
“Actually, I don’t. I suffer from short-term memory loss.”
“Really, I hadn’t noticed anything.”
“I’m good at covering. I don’t even remember you from the Community Center.”
“You mean you won’t remember me the next time we meet?”
“You’re someone I definitely want to remember, but unfortunately my soggy brain resets overnight.”
“We’re going to have to remedy that,” Helen said and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
This was getting interesting.
“Before I drop you back at your place, we’re going to stop at my daughter’s house. I have a present for you.”
We arrived in front of a new two-story house in North Boulder, and Helen went inside. Moments later she returned and handed me a framed picture.
“Here’s my picture, so that you can remember who I am.”
“Thanks.” I gave her hand a squeeze.
We chatted for awhile and then decided we should head back to my stomping grounds.
“Would you like to come in?” I asked Helen when we arrived in front of Denny’s house.
“Sure.”
I opened the door with the key Allison had given me. Having the downstairs to ourselves, we sat on the couch and talked. At this moment Jennifer came bouncing down the stairs.
“My chaperone has arrived,” I said.
“Don’t let me interrupt anything,” Jennifer said. She ran into the kitchen for a moment and then dashed upstairs again.
“I better be heading home anyway,” Helen said. “There’s an event at the Senior Center you might want to attend on Tuesday night.”
“What’s that?”
“Once a month they hold a poker night.”
“I used to play some poker.”
“I can’t make it this time. My granddaughter has a school concert.”
“Rain check then. I’ll give you a call, and we can get together on another occasion.”
“I’d like that, Paul.”
I escorted her to her car, and she gave me a kiss on the cheek. She drove off as we waved to each other.
Back in the house, Jennifer stood, waiting for me. “Do you have a new girlfriend?” she said, bouncing up and down.
“No, but we are friends. She gave me a picture.”
“Now you’ll have a second picture to go with your other girlfriend Marion. You’ll have to be careful which picture you put up.”
“You’re right. Women don’t appreciate a man keeping someone else’s picture on his dresser.”
* * * * *
I managed not to get into any trouble in the next two days. Denny went in to see a specialist and had a whole series of tests run. On Tuesday afternoon I received a call from Marion.
“My daughter and I are staying at the Days Inn,” she said.
“Say. There’s a poker night at the Senior Center. You up for a little excitement?”
“I used to play a pretty mean game of poker. You’re on.”
“I’ll get a cab, pick you up at six. We’ll have a nice meal and then take all the locals at the poker table.”
“Sounds good. See you then.”
Later I checked the two pictures on my dresser and couldn’t remember which one was Marion.
“Jennifer, I need your assistance,” I shouted.
She came bopping into my room.
“Point out the picture of Marion.”
She clicked her tongue. “Grandpa, I warned you. Marion is the one on the left.”
I looked carefully at the smiling woman with an attractive nose and fetching lips. “Okay, I think I’m ready now.”
* * * * *
Marion stood in front of the motel when I pulled up in the chariot driven by a talkative young man named James who had explained that he was paying his way through a PhD program in biology at the University of Colorado.
I scrambled out and gave Marion a hu
g. She reached up, turned my face toward hers and planted a juicy kiss on my smacker. This was getting interesting. I felt something come alive in my pants that I didn’t know existed anymore.
I heard a clapping sound. I turned toward the cab and James gave me a thumbs up sign. I opened the door for Marion, and we slid into the backseat.
“To the Greenbriar restaurant, James,” I said.
“You got it.”
We raced away with Marion snuggled up against my shoulder. We caught up on old times although I could remember zip regarding being together in Hawaii. When we arrived at the restaurant, I paid James. “If you want a return fare, be here in ninety minutes,” I said.
“You got it.”
After we took our seats at a table near the windows, Marion gave me a wide smile. “It’s so nice to be with you again, Paul. I’ve missed you.”
I reached across the table and held her hands in mine. “I’m delighted to see you too, Marion.” Something in the back of my foggy brain made a connection. “I try to remember people I care about.”
She frowned. “I’ve been thinking a lot. When I left Hawaii, I told you I wasn’t sure I wanted to be with someone who would forget me overnight.”
“I wish my strange brain worked differently, but that’s the crap shoot of yours truly.”
“Do you remember anything from our time together before? Any of the details of our intimacy?”
I thought how easy it would be to lie, but I couldn’t do that to Marion. “Unfortunately, I don’t. I have your picture, and Jennifer was quite taken with you, so she talks to me about you.”
Marion giggled. “The source of memory. Through your granddaughter.”
“She’s my best memory device. Sharp as a tack.”
A twinkle appeared in her eyes. “Maybe I could convince you to come visit me in California.”
“I’d like that. After my family gets sick of me, I could come see you.”
Marion’s eyes sparkled. “You know, I have a separate apartment above my daughter and son-in-law’s garage. It could accommodate two people.”
“That’s tempting, but I think you’d get tired of an old poop who couldn’t remember you every morning when he woke up.”
“But I’d remember you, Paul.”
“You probably told me this before, but I don’t recall. What happened to your husband?”
She let out a deep sigh. “Carl died of prostate cancer. He refused to go in for checkups, and by the time he recognized the symptoms, the disease had progressed too far.”
“I’m sorry.” I reached over and held her hands. “I lost my wife Rhonda to the big C as well. Seems like you and I are survivors.”
We chatted on while eating our meal. Marion related more stories of our time in Hawaii, reminding me of my tablemates, Meyer Ohana and Henry Palmer, at the Kina Nani retirement home. For me, it was like hearing it all for the first time.
“We must have been quite a couple,” I said.
She squeezed my hand. “The best.”
I sighed. “If I didn’t have such a crappy memory, I’m sure I would have married you.”
“Let’s not overdo things, Paul. But we did discuss living together.”
“If we did that, you’d be able to determine how much of me you could put up with.”
“We’ll keep that idea in mind. Right now I have you all to myself for an evening, and then the day after tomorrow my daughter and I have a road trip to complete.”
“Will I see you on your return journey?”
“That could be arranged. I could stop back for a short time on our way back to California.”
“I’d like that.”
What a woman! I felt like I’d known her for ages, yet I couldn’t remember her before tonight. Could I have a relationship with someone on that basis? It didn’t seem fair to her.
After dinner we found our man James waiting for us. He opened the door for Marion with a flourish, then dashed around to hop in for the drive to the Centennial Community Center.
As I paid him, I said. “Thanks for the magic carpet ride. We have an evening of gambling ahead of us.”
“Don’t get busted,” he said as he returned to his taxi.
At the entrance to the Senior Center a woman sat at a table, collecting money. “Ten dollars for each carton of chips,” she said.
I gave her a twenty-dollar bill to stake both Marion and me.
“You can leave your coats in the closet over there,” the woman said, pointing
I collected Marion’s wrap, took off my jacket, entered a large walk-in closet and hung everything up.
Marion grabbed my hand and led me to a table with several other aging gamesters. We settled in for a game of Texas Hold’em.
“I didn’t think you could legally collect money for a poker game,” I said.
“I’m sure it’s to pay the dealers,” Marion replied and squeezed my arm.
The dealer delivered me a series of crapola hands, and my stack of chips dwindled as Marion’s grew.
I hit a winning streak, finally, and replenished my chips.
“I need to visit the powder room,” Marion said, standing up and stretching her arms.
“I’ll hit the head as well,” I said.
We visited the accommodations, and I waited for Marion outside the women’s restroom. When she emerged, all powdered, she grabbed my arm and snuggled up against me as we walked back into the den of iniquity.
At that moment a whistle blew and a throng of policemen stormed through the door.
“It’s a raid!” Marion shouted.
I looked around, trying to find an escape route and spied the coat closet.
“In there,” I said and pushed Marion into the closet in front of me. The door clicked shut.
We heard shouts, the sound of furniture capsizing and a male voice commanding, “Line up against the wall.”
Things quieted down, and I didn’t hear anything again until the same male voice said, “Move outside. Single file.”
“They’re taking everyone away,” Marion whispered in my ear.
“Sshh. Be happy it isn’t us.”
We sat on the floor of the closet and waited. A small streak of light filtered under the door. Then the light flicked off, and I heard a door clanking.
“Sounds like they’ve closed the Senior Center,” Marion whispered.
“I guess it’s safe to go out now.” My hand felt along the door. No handle. I pushed on the door. Damn thing remained locked fast. I pounded on the door. No response.
“There should be a light switch here somewhere,” I said as I began running my hand around the wall. Nothing.
“We’re stuck,” I said.
“Good thing we recently went to the restrooms. We’ll have to make the best of it.”
Marion stood up, and I heard rustling sounds.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m removing jackets and sweaters. I’ll make a place for us to lie down. We might as well be comfortable since we’ll have to wait until the janitor opens up in the morning.”
“And for the first time all evening, I was just getting some good hands.”
“Well, maybe you can put your good hands to another use.” Marion snuggled up against me.
Suddenly our mouths met, and I felt a delightful pleasure course through me. An unused part of my body received the message and stood at attention.
My good hands became busy exploring interesting curves, and rather than protest, Marion leaned closer against me.
“I think this is all a plot to take advantage of me in my weakened mental state,” I said.
“Good idea.” Marion undid a button on my shirt.
We dispensed with clothes and in due course my saluting soldier found a warm cozy home.
* * * * *
I awoke with a start. It was dark, but a shaft of light peeked under the door. I remembered being in a closet at the Senior Center! And the warm body next to mine belonged to Marion Aumille
r. What a strange situation. My usually defective brain could recall clearly the events of the preceding night.
Something jabbed my hip. I reached under my butt and found a cell phone imbedded in a jacket—part of our makeshift bed.
I shook Marion. “Time to rise. We have a way to escape this closet.”
“Then we’d better dress.” She reached over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
We sorted through the pile of clothes until I retrieved my pants, shirt and shoes. My socks had disappeared so I dispensed with them.
I rummaged through my wallet and in the faint light found a scrap of paper. Placing it on the floor near the door, I could read Denny’s phone number.
“Do you know how to use one of these damn things?” I asked Marion, handing her the cell phone.
“Let me turn it on, and then you just need to tap in the phone number hit the large button on the top left and then place it against the side of your face.”
She did her magic with the phone and handed it back to me.
I followed her directions and after a moment Jennifer answered.
“You need to come rescue your grandfather.”
“Grandpa! We were all worried. Where have you been?”
“Just doing a little undercover work. You need to do me a favor.”
“Sure, Grandpa.”
“Before going to school, walk over to the Community Center and get someone to open the coat closet in the Senior Center.”
Half an hour later, we heard a rustling outside the door, and it popped open.
I blinked as sun streamed in. Jennifer and a man stood there.
“Grandpa, what happened?”
“We conducted a test of the cushion properties of various types of jackets. The door doesn’t have an inside handle.”
The man in a custodian uniform standing next to Jennifer smiled. “But it has a release latch, right here.” He pointed.
“I’ll be damned. I never found that.”
“Or you ignored it,” Marion said, giving my arm a squeeze.
“And how come there’s no light switch in your closet?” I asked.
“There’s an overhead cord. There.” The custodian pointed to what I had obviously missed in the dark.
We retrieved our own jackets, hung up the rest and then walked Jennifer to school.