Stanley at 98 was, uncharacteristically for a man of his age, up early that morning and making himself breakfast in the kitchen of their upscale assisted living apartment. He and his wife, Susan, bought the whole life accommodation and care as a single package 20 years earlier and it had served them well.

Retiring close to their son, David's, business so that Stanley could help him make a go of it. True to his word, Stanley did just that until David, unmarried and childless, died suddenly of a heart attack at 70. They had also lost their only daughter, June, a nurse, at only 29 when she had a coronary thrombosis, blood clot to her heart, after a long flight on vacation with her husband to Australia and died, also childless. 

About Susan his wife, 92, Stanley thought out loud, quite normal for him these days. "Suze sure is slow to get up this morning. She's always up before me. Must be, she's tired. Yeah, probably too tired. I know I'm working her too much with this damn dementia. Damn dementia…

"Well, I think I ought to go check on her." He stopped in the bathroom on the way and warmed some water on a washcloth to wash her face. 

Stanley was sitting on the bed and washing his wife's face with the washcloth holding her right hand with his left. "Gee, Honey, your hand sure is cold. I was hoping this warm water on your face would wake you up. That's a shame. I do miss your talk in the morning. Really do miss it now that we don't have any friends left to visit us occasionally.

"I guess it's my fault that we don't go down to the dining room anymore where I used to tell jokes that I got from emails. But this damn place changed from Internet to Wi-Fi and I lost my connection. Must've complained ten times to management but they wouldn't fix that cable. What's wrong with them? Don't they know I need email so that I can get free jokes to tell. You know, from my Internet friends, bless their souls, all dead now, who would send jokes every day so that I could test them out on all these old fogey retirees we got in this place. Miss them. Miss everything. If it weren't for Roger and those monthly checks that social worker makes here, we wouldn't communicate with the outside world at all.

"Far cry from when we first came." Stanley became lost in thought about his long years as a professor, researcher and author of textbooks. How they cashed everything in and came here to help David.

"We were the life of this party! Yes, we were. We attended all the dances and even did a little romancing on the side. You are so beautiful, those old fogies couldn't resist you. No, they couldn't. Have to laugh. Have to laugh at how they chased you. But you were always mine, from that day at 17 when I was a doctoral student and you were a freshmen and we met at a college party just as the Great War sent everybody but us, too Jewish, I guess, overseas to fight for America. Those were the days…”

Stanley had driven every day over to where David had his business in computer parts and worked on ways to get sales over the Internet. At least up until that day when David had the heart attack and died. Wrecking hopes that David would get married and they would have grandchildren. Grandchildren.

The business was sold and the money was given to good causes because there was no one to will it to. Tears formed in Stanley's eyes. He felt so alone except for Susan.

Stanley wandered off into the living room, turned the TV on to jabber from some women, and turned it off. Turned on the computer and found that he still didn't have Internet. No emails. He really missed those jokes. Started talking to himself again. "Where'd they go? Must've been that damn Wi-Fi. Cut us off from the Internet… Dammit! Don't they know we paid for full-services handsomely!" He looked out of the wall to ceiling window at the lake. It was a beautiful day out, looking warm and sunny. Remembered fishing and boating there… Good times… 

”Better go check on her." Stanley announced to no one in particular and trotted on back to the bedroom. He crawled under the covers and spooned her back. Hoping to get the kind of warm response that he always got from the most loving wife one could ever have. Two children and the best of everything. Why was he feeling so empty?

Susan was cold and stiff to his touch. Stanley found it uncomfortable. But he didn't want to waste the day, and rummaged around in the drawers and got out his favorite walking outfit. Took off his pajamas and put on his polo shirt, pulled on his shorts and his favorite walking socks. All things that Roger had pointed out to him he needed for his daily runs that later turned into walks. After struggling a while to tie the laces without the help of Susan, Stanley finally got his walking shoes on and, whispering, "I love you, Suze. Sleep well now. I'll be back in an hour or so. It is such a lovely day I don't want to waste this morning."

Stanley was out the door and down the familiar hall to the elevator. Twenty-five floors from their penthouse he reached the ground floor and walked past the dining room, the game rooms, and the theater past his favorite little place to stop, Roger's little sport shop, featuring all things needed for active retirees like him.

But Roger was with a customer, so Stanley just waved and walked on. He had a little out-of-the-way place that Susan and he used to go to, partway around the lake, where they could see lots of wild birds this time of year pass through. It'd been a while, so he really looked forward to it. Said out loud, "I've got to get going. Have to be back by lunchtime to check on Suze."

Roger, 52, had opened the shop in his 25th year with a small inheritance and a promise from the owners that he would have a small apartment for his wife and he when he retired from managing the shop at 65. So far things were going quite well and he kept in touch with a lot of the residents who routinely bought things in his shop, keeping his business going with their generosity… Rich folks.

Roger was helping out Juan Rodriguez, a former Yankees player of some renown, with selecting the right fishing gear to catch some of the lake's legendary largemouth bass, when he saw Stanley Leibowitz walking by the big windows of the shop, stop, give him a wave, and then, walk on. Roger waved back and smiled, thinking, What is Stanley doing out there walking? I haven't seen him pass by in over five years?

But Roger was busy with a very important customer. So he finished the transaction and made a healthy profit from the very rich ballplayer that morning. Roger cautioned Rodriguez as he left… "Don't go out fishing today, Juan. It's beautiful right now, but there's a nasty front coming through that's going to drop the temperatures below freezing this afternoon. Hopefully you will be able to get in a few great fishing days tomorrow and after that before winter comes for good."

What he had seen of Stanley worked on his mind all morning. So, when lunch hour came, Stanley closed the shop and headed on up to Stanley and Susan's apartment to see them like he often had, knowing they were really getting up in years and may need some help. Susan had always assured him, that while Stanley was losing his memory, she could handle it and everything was okay. With room service, they had everything they needed. Often gave Roger a treat from something she had baked or cooked that day. His lunch, some days.

In a few minutes, Roger arrived at the door. It was slightly ajar. Strange, he always had to knock before for Susan to come and let him in? He knocked, but no one answered. Roger pushed the door open. He called out gently, "Susan?" and then, "Stanley?" several times but no one answered or moved inside. He walked slowly through the kitchen and noticed that someone had made a rather sloppy breakfast without cleaning up afterward. He moved into the living room and saw the computer turned on and the email inbox open with no new messages. Roger could have fixed that easily for him, just linking up to Wi-Fi Internet but Stanley always insisted that it was management's job to do and Roger respected that.

Roger moved with some trepidation from the guest bedroom that was empty, and then, back toward the master bedroom to see if anyone was in there. To his surprise, Susan was lying in the bed, facing him. Her eyes were closed as if in sleep, but there was something strange. His calls had not moved her. Her face was very pale. He put his hand on her shoulder to gently nudge her awake and found that she was stiff and cold… He let out a shriek he didn't know he had in him and began to cry. She was such a beautiful and strong lady!

His thoughts immediately turned to Stanley. He went back to the living room and looked out to see that the front had come through while he was in his weather isolated climate controlled shop downstairs. It had obviously rained, a lot. Was beginning to snow. Things didn't look good for Stanley. He got on the Leibowitz's phone and called 911.  When they answered, his desperate voice nearly shouted, "We have a 98-year-old man with dementia missing here at Heritage Homes! We must find him soon, or he will freeze to death!" Kicking himself for not acting sooner… right after he saw Stanley in the wrong place doing the wrong thing.

After giving Stanley's name and details to the 911 operator, Roger hung up and called down to the office. And then, took the elevator down as fast as he could, went to the dining room and called on all the able-bodied there eating lunch to put on warm clothes and help him search for one of their own, their friend of long-standing. Fifteen men and twenty-three women answered the call and were soon out scouring the grounds in search of Stanley. The county sent helicopters and searchers. A Silver alert was issued. By the middle of the afternoon, hundreds had shown up.

But night came and Stanley had not yet been found. Discouraged, Roger and the others returned home. The next morning, bright and early after free coffee and breakfast for the searchers in the dining room, the search continued. About 10 o'clock, boaters on the lake found Stanley's body floating in a little cove where a drainage ditch emptied into the lake. About 50 feet above was a 4 foot in diameter culvert that carried water down from up above under the walkway. The location was about halfway to that favorite spot where Stanley and Susan, along with others, had often gone this time of year to watch migratory birds.

When the investigation concluded, it was surmised that, when the front came through with cold wind and rain, Stanley had taken shelter in the culvert. The heavy rain on the mountain above caused a flash flood that came down through the culvert Stanley was in and washed him into the lake. It was so sad and there were memorial services for those who remembered. Stanley and Susan were interred together above ground in a mausoleum built to last a thousand years. Within a week, their apartment had been cleared out and bought by a billionaire and his wife. No mention was made of the demise of the previous owners.

Roger tried to shake his guilt, but when he couldn't, went to a therapist who told him that it was probably best that the two of them died on the same day. Eventually, with time, he reconciled with that.

Copyright 2019 © Ronald W. Hull

10/16/19