WE KNEW, BUT WE DIDN'T KNOW

 

CHAPTER TWELVE—DISAPPEARING ELDERS

 

 

Fat, wet snowflakes were circling and falling as I made my way toward Crinoline Lane. They made the streets look and smell like Christmas. A few shops and homes had their outdoor trees in place, and I enjoyed the variety of colour effects: multicolour, icy blue, deep blue, bold green, golden white and silver white. There was even one tree strung out in pale pink lights, making it look like confection. The closer I got to the Golds’ door, the more malnourished cats I crossed paths with. One of them was particularly frightening. It was a large creature, male, I was certain. Its coat was a lovely tawny colour but it was missing its left eye, and its right ear was almost completely torn off.

I let myself in with the silver key and was surprised to see Lise polishing the counter with a strong lemon-scented oil. She looked up and said, “Thank God you’re here. They’ve both been so worried about you. Henry and I are now the official owners of the store and the flat. They’ll be a lot safer that way, and so will their money.”

“Where are they?” I asked nervously.

“I’ll take you to them now.” Lise pulled down oilcloth blinds over the dusty store-front windows and double-locked the door. She turned off the lights and motioned me to follow her. My second impression of her was that she was more attractive than I had first thought. She was tall and slender, and she had long, thick honey-coloured hair. Her features were too sharp for prettiness, but her eyes were clear and bright. Her skin, however, looked aged and dull. She could have been a young-looking sixty or an old-looking forty. I couldn’t tell.

I followed her up the back stairway, but we passed through the Gold’s apartment, all the way to a small sitting room at the end of the flat. The room was wall-papered with creamy-pink tea-roses on a Wedgewood blue background. I watched in amazement as Lise slid open a wall-panel. We stepped through the opening, and she slid the panel back into place. The wallpaper pattern had cunningly camouflaged the moving panel. She reached overhead in darkness and I could hear the click of a pulled chain. An overhead bulb gave as sufficient light to continue toward two steps leading up to a squat door. She rapped on the door gently with her knuckles and Mr. Gold opened it.

He looked so old and frail! “Ah, Sophie, welcome to our new home. It's small but it has all the amenities.” Hannah Gold was sitting in a turquoise velvet armchair. If anything, she looked even more despondent than her brother. She managed to smile at me and said, “This is a real case, not an imaginary example of déjà vu.”

Mr. Gold went over to where his sister was seated and tried to comfort her. He touched her cheek gently and murmured, “There, there, Hannah. We’re simply being cautious. I can assure you that the British government is neither as thorough nor as malicious as the Gestapo. It will all blow over, either that, or there’ll be a public outcry.”

Thinking it would calm the Golds, I told them about the new dual-residency apartment building where I’d soon be living. “So you see, if the place is well run and if I’m happy there, I was hoping both of you could rent an apartment in the same building. I think I trust the co-owner; in fact, I’ll be seeing him socially tomorrow night.”

While I was talking, Lise carried a plate of tiny sandwiches, party sandwiches, into the sitting room and placed it on a small round table next to where Mrs. Gold was sitting. She then crossed her arms over her flat stomach and said, “For now, this is best. We wait and we watch. Henry and I have the transfer of deeds documents to show any inspectors. The story is that the Golds went to London and we haven’t heard a word from them. They stay in hiding until the new policies become apparent. If the situation proves to be as dangerous as we fear, they remain here. Sophie, you can be their breath of fresh air, and our eyes, ears and nose as well.”

The Golds and I were nibbling on delicately flavoured chopped egg and tuna sandwiches. To lighten the mood I told them about my date with Joe the following evening. Hannah’s face brightened, but Lise looked concerned. She asked, “Are you sure it’s safe for you to attend the reception?”

“I think it is; I hope it is. But it’s something I’m going to do regardless. I’m hungry to see up close how others, the others, live.”

Hannah asked, “Is that what you call us among yourselves — the others?”

“We call you either regulars or the others. Sometimes we use the term real people. And what do you refer to us as, other than clones, I mean.”

Lise answered without missing a beat. “Oh, there are many words, many terms, depending on the attitude and the context.”

“Could you give me a few examples, please?”

Franz began: “We often say euphemistically, service workers, helpers, providers, suppliers, medical volunteers.”

Lise continued, “Then there are the blunter appellations: drones, servants, slaves.”

Hannah added, “unfortunates.”

I was wincing but managed to ask, “Anything more derogatory? Slangy?”

Lise volunteered, “Disposables, Bits and Pieces, Parts and Parcels, Odds and Ends, Stupids, Zombies.”

“Zombies! Why Zombies?” I sputtered.

For the first time, Lise looked extremely uncomfortable and answered haltingly. “I suppose it’s because you tend to lack inflection and expression. Your voices are usually monotonous and your faces inscrutable. And the way you walk, slowly and mechanically. Sorry.”

“And me?” I pursued the topic. “Am I like that?”

The silence in the room gave me the answer. I felt humiliated but not shocked. “I’m trying to change, mostly to see if I can, if it’s possible. So I appreciate your candour. It must not have been easy. Thank you.”

As though a signal had been switched, we changed topics, and Mrs. Gold asked me, “And what will you be wearing to this ball of yours tomorrow night?”

I considered the truth to be a little complicated, so I kept my answer simple. “A pink dress, but I have a favour to ask.”

“Please do,” Mrs. Gold urged me kindly.

“I only have one warm coat, the one I’m wearing. I was hoping you might be able to lend me something more suitable.”

“With pleasure!” Mrs. Gold’s careworn face lit up. “Come; follow me.” She rose with a groan and led the way into a room behind the sitting room. I expected it to be a bedroom, but it was a wooden walk-in wardrobe and it smelled marvellous.

“What’s that wonderful smell?”

“That’s cedar. It calms me merely to inhale it. I’m sure I have something in here that will fit you, more or less. Well, not less, but more because I was never as lithe as you are.” Mrs. Gold walked into the exquisitely scented chamber and began to push hangers vigorously. “No,” she pronounced talking to one hanging item after another. “No and no and no.” With each ‘no,’ she yanked a hanging item to the left. I was temporarily distracted by a number of  hat and shoe boxes stacked neatly on a shelf above the crowded garments. They were arranged according to shape and size, three column of round, rectangular and square boxes in a luxuriant variety of colours and patterns. They were beautiful.

“This one, yes.” Mrs. Gold stepped out of the closet dragging a cellophane-covered coat behind her. She lifted the transparent wrapping and asked me, “What do you say? Do you like it? Do you want to try it on?”

“Yes, please. It looks stunning.” It was a simple chocolate brown velvet coat with a vivid pink lining. The buttons were shaped to resemble roses. Mrs. Gold removed the coat from the sturdy wooden hanger and handed it over to me. “If it fits you, I want you to keep it. I have no use for it now. It’s a lovely quality. Vintage from the early 1960s. Clothes were so pretty then. At least, I think so.”

I had never owned such a magnificent garment. The lining felt like silk and the velvet was thick and smooth and luscious. It hit just above my knees and the arms exposed the wrists, but on the whole, it was a good fit and I loved it. “I love it, Mrs. Gold, but I can’t keep it. It’s yours, but I’d be thrilled to wear it to the reception tomorrow night. In fact, I don’t think I’ll want to take it off. I’ll pretend to feel chilled and wear it the whole time.”

“I wish we had a full-length mirror here, but we don’t. Let my eyes be your mirror. You look beautiful. Your hair is as rich and thick and dark as the velvet. You look like a long cup of velvet coffee!”

We all laughed, even Lise, who certainly didn’t seem to have a sunny disposition. Mrs. Gold continued speaking, “Why don’t you wear it home? This other coat, the one you wear, it’s finished, isn’t it? As they say, ‘it’s seen better days.’ Just leave it here. Lise is a talented seamstress. She can work miracles with distressed fabrics.”

I was afraid of what Lise would say, being volunteered like that, but she was smiling. “I’d be happy to restore your coat, Sophie. I have a few ideas about what I can do with it: new buttons and a new lining for starters.”

“Thank you; that’s very kind of you, but Mrs. Gold, I wouldn’t feel right keeping your coat. Please understand.”

Mrs. Gold took my hand. “Child, there is so much I want to say to you, so much. I hope we will have many, many occasions to talk. Believe me when I tell you that it would be my pleasure. We talk about things around us as though we own them, but we don’t really. We really don’t. Many of these things we lose or break or discard and they’re gone.” She snapped her fingers sharply, “just like that.” Other things don’t leave; they stay. But we don’t stay. We die and then what becomes of our things? We never find out, do we? So you see, they aren’t truly ours, not ever. We just live with them until we don’t. One way or another, there is a permanent separation.”

I understood exactly what she meant. Lise, Mrs. Gold and I stood close together. It was only when Mr. Gold came into view that I realised he had been missing. “Hannah will not outdo me, at least I hope she won’t. I have something for you too.” He held out a honey-toned star-shaped pendant on a gold chain. “It’s a topaz,” he told me. “And the chain is 18 karat gold. Let me fasten it for you. Maybe you should take the coat off first.”

I slipped out of the coat. Lise held it for me. Mr. Gold secured the clasp easily. I looked down. The star-shaped gemstone was quite large, but the colour was so soft and discreet that the effect was amazing. “This is going to be my lucky charm.”

“Your talisman,” he said. I wanted so badly to hug Mr. and Mrs. Gold, hold them tight, tell them that I loved them, but my throat was locked. “I have family,” I thought to myself.” I have a sister and I have grandparents.” I looked at Lise who was holding the coat out to me. “I even have an aunt.”

Before going downstairs with Lise, I promised Mr. and Mrs. Gold that I wouldn’t say anything to Joe about them. I would be tight-lipped. At the storefront door, Lise rook my hands in her large, capable-looking ones. “Not a word now. I fear for their safety. Seniors have been forcibly relocated to elder residences. We must protect them.” I nodded my head forcefully. She looked a little less anxious and said, “I will have your coat ready in a few days. I’ll put in a warm lining. It will serve you well this winter.” She didn’t embrace me, but her eyes were shiny and kind.

As soon as I shut the door behind me, the stink of sick cats invaded my nostrils. I reproached myself for not asking Lise about them. Just a few houses down the lane, a dead cat lay beside a gutter. Its mouth was open in what looked like a silent scream; its bared teeth looked like needles made of bone. I shuddered and increased my pace to a jog. If the cat populace was dropping dead from disease, I hoped it wasn’t contagious to us — and to humans.

The first thing I did when I reached my apartment was take a bath in my stained but scrubbed tub. It felt as though diseased cat stench had seeped into my pores and bloodstream. I so wanted to have a good night’s sleep and awaken refreshed and dewy-skinned for my big day, but the horrific cat mystery kept my senses alert and troubled. I was also worried that Rosemary might not show up with the promised dress and shoes. My backup plan was to borrow one of Kathy’s newfound dresses; either the red or white might do nicely. Of course, Kathy was thinner than I was, but even if they hugged my curves that would be all right, I hoped.

The zapping door buzzer jolted me awake. I was aware of a very uncomfortable pressure in my colon as I went to open the door. I hoped Rosemary wouldn’t want to chat because I had to go the bathroom really, really badly. Joe was correct in judging Rosemary and me to have similar morphologies. She handed me a large black and white striped shopping bag and said, “I have to run. Today’s my errands and messages day. The shoe box is inside the bag. If there’s a problem, call Joe, eh? You have his number?”

“Yes, I do. Thank you for going to all this trouble on my behalf.”

Rosemary smiled warmly. She was a plain girl, but she was smartly dressed and she had a head of luxuriant honey-blonde hair. “Truth be told, I did it for Joe. After all, he is my boss and a kind one at that. I’m sure you’ll look smashing. As soon as I saw the frock, I fell in love with it. I hope you do too.”

As much as I wanted to see the dress, I couldn’t ignore my bowels. Since I had begun eating beef and chicken, my movements were so much thicker and heavier. For the first time in my life, emptying my bowels was a serious undertaking. It was quite embarrassing, and of course, there was no one I could discuss this with, compare notes, so to speak. Even more mortifying, was my curiosity with my feces. I couldn’t get over their density and girth. After wiping my bum and flushing the toilet, I felt so good, so light, so relieved. It was quite a revelation of what dietary changes can effect.

I was, therefore, in a very pleasant mood when I picked up the elegant bag and brought it over to my unmade bed. The shoe box was on top and I set it aside. I then removed crinkled sheets of black, gold and white tissue paper. I lifted the dress. It wasn’t exactly pink. It was nude, just a few shades pinker than my skin. It looked like silk and it was very light and simple: strapless, empire-waisted, A-line, knee length with a rosy lining. Impetuously, I stuffed it back into the bag and decided to wait until Kathy was my audience. It was an experience I wanted to share with her.

I grabbed my cosmetics case, dressed hastily in a scruffy wool smock and practically ran all the way to Windmere. The images of the sickly cats appeared inside my head. I wondered about them. Surely they weren’t all sick. If that were the case, the sidewalks would be littered with feline corpses. Perhaps I could rescue one, a healthy one, a kitten and ask Joe if it could live in my flat. But even if I could catch a kitten, a seemingly healthy one, how could I be sure it wasn’t incubating a dreadful disease, one that was communicable to clones and people?

Kathy was not alone when I arrived. I recognized the youth sitting alongside her in bed. They were positioned just like people side by side on a bus. He looked up at me and I realised that he was awfully young. I couldn’t contain my surprise.

“How on earth can you already be a donor?” I blurted.

Kathy, gracious as always, reminded me of my manners. “Keith, this is my carer, Kathy.”

I lopped over to the bed and clumsily shook Keith’s hand. I was overcome with indignation. “He’s just a lad,” I thought to myself. “How dare they begin their bloody harvesting of him!”

Keith explained laconically, “I hated being a carer. It depressed the crap out of me. After a week of it, I felt like I was going to do myself in, so I thought, ‘why put myself through this? Why not just put myself on the donor list and be done with the other rubbish? And luck was with me, wasn’t it? I met Kathy, didn’t I?” Keith looked at her adoringly.

“How old are you then?” I wanted to know.

“Nineteen, but I feel like ninety. I’m ready for whatever. I really am.”

“You’re just a nipper. It doesn’t seem right.”

But Keith refused to catch my glum mood. “Right then, you two lovelies must have a lot to talk about, so I’ll leave you to it.” Keith jumped off the bed and kissed Kathy on her forehead. “You smell beautiful,” he told her. “Like roses and rain.”

After he left, I exclaimed, “He certainly fancies you, but it’s so sad, isn’t it?” Kathy sighed jaggedly. Her breathing didn’t seem to be quite right. “It is and it isn’t. Perspective is everything, Sophie.”

“I suppose it is. He certainly doesn’t seem down in the mouth.”

“He’s relieved. He says that being a donor is much nicer than being a carer. He gets to sleep as much as he wants to and he doesn’t have to be bothered looking after a seedy flat. He likes it here.” Kathy noticed my cocoa coat. “That’s a smashing coat, Sophie, and what’s hiding in that hoity-toity bag of yours?”

“My dress and shoes, for tonight. I haven’t tried them on yet. In fact, I haven’t even peeped at the shoes. Shall I model them for you? Would you like that? Would that be all right?”

“That would be divine! And then we can figure out a hairstyle for you.”

I folded my coat over the back of Kathy’s one chair, and pulled the nasty smock over my head. I was wearing my best stockings, quite sheer and unladdered. I removed my bra seeing as the dress was strapless. When Kathy saw my dress, she purred. Rosemary proved to be a brilliant shopper. The dress fit beautifully. It was a tiny bit loose, but that meant I could eat to my heart’s content later that evening.

“How pretty!” Kathy exclaimed. “Let’s see the shoes.”

The shoes were something of a disappointment. I had been hoping for glamourous stilettos even though I had no idea how to walk in a pair of those, but nestled inside the pink box were an equally pink pair of ballerina flats. Leather!

“They’ll be perfect. You’ll be so comfortable in them if they fit. You’ll be able to dance all night.”

They did fit. “I wish I could see myself in a full-length mirror to get the entire effect. Everything fits comfortably, though.”

“You look beautiful, Sophie. And sexy, but in a tasteful way. You have a gorgeous shape. And that pendant. I suppose it’s from the Golds’. It’s spectacular, but understated. You look very, very classy.” Kathy was hugging her knees.

“I want to wear my hair swept up, Kath. And I want you to paint cat eyes with my eyeliner. The lipstick that you gave me should be a perfect shade. But before we get into all of that, let’s go to the cafeteria. I’m famished.” I changed back into my ratty smock and said impulsively, “I really would like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Gold, and their niece, Lise. She’s not actually their niece, but she’s like one to them. They’re good people, kind people. They suffered a lot in Germany during the Second World War. They lived in fear, in hiding until the Liberation, and now, it would seem that the elderly are in some kind of peril. I don’t really understand what it’s about, so I’m going to ask Joe.

Kathy’s face and voice became tense. “Don’t tell him about them, Sophie. Don’t mention them specifically. Be careful. I’ve noticed changes at Windmere concerning older staff. I’ve been seeing fewer of the senior nurses and doctors around. There was one jocular surgeon. He must have been over 70. He used to pop his head in at least once a day. In fact, you’ve seen him in my room. Well, I hadn’t seen him for about a week, so the other day, I asked a nurse about him. She looked grim when she stammered, ‘Dr. Molsely’s been transferred. We’ll not see him here again.’ The way she said it, Sophie. It sounded, oh, I don’t know. It sounded quite ominous.”

On our way to the cafeteria, we invited Keith to join us. He rolled his eyes comically, “I wish I could, but I can’t. My carer’s supposed to show up any minute now, and I don’t want him to have to go chasing after me. I’m his first assignment, so I’d like make a good impression.”

“Next time, then,” I said and Keith smiled beatifically. “He’s quite the cool customer, isn’t he?” I asked Kathy.

“That he is. I’d like to know more about where he boarded. It’s a place called Tristan Academy. Have you heard of it?”

“I think so, but I don’t recall whether I’ve heard good or bad things about it. I’ll try to remember to ask around although lately my memory’s been shot full of holes.”

“That’s understandable. You’ve a lot going on, what with me, the Golds, Joe, your new flat. I dare say your life’s become rather exciting.”

There was no envy in Kathy’s tone. She was either at peace with or resigned to her situation. Suddenly she grimaced, uttered, “Oh no!” and stopped walking. Her mouth opened and I knew what was going to happen, but there was no time for me to be of assistance. She folded her arms over her chest, leaned forward and sneezed three times in succession.”

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

She smiled wanly. “I think I’m okay. It barely hurts. That was a close call.” Kathy’s stitches had been removed, but her wound was still tender. She began walking again although at a more cautious pace, but told me brightly. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention this. My main doctor told me that I can use the swimming pool next week if my carer accompanies me. A nurse dropped off two swimsuits. They’re in my locker. They’re both equally ugly, so we don’t have to argue about who gets the nicer one.”

On the third floor, in the elevator and the cafeteria, there did seem to be fewer elderly personnel. I asked Kathy for confirmation, but she said, “It’s hard to say. It’s not as though I go out of my way to notice old people. Honestly, they’re kind of invisible to me.”

I found that interesting inasmuch as I felt different. Knowing that I would never grow old, I’d had a fascination with elderly faces and bodies ever since I was a child. I found them neither beautiful nor ugly — just old, in the same way that an apple gets old, shrunken, withered and wrinkled.