[Critique Group 1] Marcia's July submission

[Marcia Wick]

Sorry, I think this only went to Leonard.

 

As Good As It Gets

Word Count:  734

 

 

Robbie Braun dipped the brim of his Stetson as if scanning notes on his pad.
However, behind mirrored lenses, his alert green eyes tracked the new
reporter's back side as she retreated from the accident scene. Claudia's
choice of footwear, those strange clog things, hinted at her being a hippie
or flower child, probably one of those women libbers. He groaned. She hailed
from Colorado, he knew, so perhaps she'd prove rugged. She looked confident
enough wielding a camera, Robbie thought, but could she carry a hunting
rifle? Well anyway, the country would test her mettle.

 

At least the reporter wasn't another city slicker like Veronica, the other
new looker in town, a high-fashion corporate type hired to handle publicity
at the furniture factory. Robbie had to admit though that new women offered
a nice change in scenery. 

 

A country boy, he couldn't imagine either of the new women in town giving a
small town cop the time of day, yet he fantasized about perfume and lipstick
on his collar. 

 

Officer Braun had already kissed all the local girls. One by one, he'd dated
them all either during high school or after returning from the service in
Korea. At least, he didn't have to worry about kissing cousins in the small
town - he was the only son of Dutch immigrants stolen by yellow fever.
Orphaned before family roots were planted, Robbie was thrust into manhood at
age 16.

 

Things were sure changing fast around town, he mused. Used to be he could
name all the locals. Now, since the new highway had shortened the travel
time from Grand Rapids, strangers flocked to the lakeside village like it
was a trendy resort. Sure, the influx of customers with disposable income
was welcome by the local merchants, but Officer Braun was bothered by the
increasing number of noise complaints and beer cans littering the beaches,
not to mention strangers crashing their cars into trees.

 

Recalling the paperwork he'd have to file on the Drunk driver, the cop
returned to his cruiser and ignited the V8. Deftly, he cranked the wheel and
radial tires hit the asphalt. Robbie thought about the way life used to be,
when things were predictable. Most days he'd be off shift and home in time
for an early supper. Home was his favorite eatery. He'd pile his dinner
plate with wild game he himself had bagged and butchered, garden fresh
vegetables, and eggs collected daily from his flock of noisy chickens.
Weekends, he fished, hunted, or toiled to restore his two-story cedar
shingle home, perched on a western hillside overlooking the valley. Future
dreams called for a fish pond, a three-bay garage, a tractor, and perhaps a
loving woman - if he could find one he could tolerate for more than a week.
Now that would be about as good as it gets.

 

***

 

Veronica plucked her eyebrows and considered what to wear to the Harvest
Barn Dance. She'd heard about the new reporter and couldn't wait to meet
her. Finally, another young woman who wasn't a local. Local ladies were nice
enough, she thought. They just didn't talk about anything but making pies,
high school football, babies, and canning pickle. 

 

Veronica was starved for friendship. She'd planted herself in this dead-end
town to spite her mother, but her mother was cruising the seas south of
France with her latest lover and couldn't be bothered wondering what her
daughter was doing in nowheresville USA. Soon enough, in six months when her
inheritance was entrusted to her at age 26, Veronica would no longer live
only to appease her mother. She'd be free to snub her nose at the parade of
step-fathers, half-siblings, and freeloaders who cow-towed to her TV star
mom. Meanwhile, she was hiding in a town where no one knew her famous
mother, or the story of her daughter's lonely childhood.

 

These days, Veronica wasn't lonely. She had a stable of men to keep her
warm. She'd love to jump the rugged bones of the good-looking local cop's,
but she had a policy. No dating locals. It was safer to engage with
out-of-town sales reps, dealers, architects, and designers who wouldn't kiss
and tell, especially if they were married. Even better. Married men didn't
talk to their wives or each other about trysts while on business trips.
Married men fancied Veronica for her discretion as much as she appreciated
theirs.

 

# # #

 

 

From: Group1 [mailto:group1-bounces at bluegrasspals.com] On Behalf Of Leonard
Tuchyner via Group1
Sent: Wednesday, July 21, 2021 1:12 PM
To: Marcia Wick <marciajwick at gmail.com <mailto:marciajwick at gmail.com> >
Cc: Critique Group 1 <group1 at bluegrasspals.com
<mailto:group1 at bluegrasspals.com> >
Subject: [Critique Group 1] Fwd: reminder pieces are due today

 

Sorry, This was meant to go to  group1 

Leonard


-----Original Message-----
From: tuchyner5 at aol.com <mailto:tuchyner5 at aol.com> 
To: group3 at bluegrasspals.com <mailto:group3 at bluegrasspals.com>
<group3 at bluegrasspals.com <mailto:group3 at bluegrasspals.com> >
Sent: Wed, Jul 21, 2021 11:21 am
Subject: reminder pieces are due today

Hi,

Just a reminder. July piecews are due today. Plus my piece is below

 

1,376: word count

 

Last Battle

 

There was a knock at Dr. Franks' door. It must be someone wanting to see if
he needed any of his trees trimmed. If not, it would be someone who wanted
to convince him that his driveway needed resurfacing.  It couldn't have
anything to do with his being a medical doctor. He'd been retired way too
long for that.  He opened the door but was not prepared to see what was
there. It was a man dressed as though he was on his way to a golf course.

"Excuse me, but can you tell me the way to Route 29?"

There was a lost look in his eyes.

"It's just two blocks away."

"Which direction?"

Dr. Frank pointed out the direction. He had seen that look before. Many
times. This man had Alzheimer's disease.  "Are you new to the area?" he
asked.

"No, just got turned around. Silly of me, I know."

"Why don't you stay a few minutes and get your bearings? If you give me your
telephone number, I'll call your wife," he offered.

"No! I'm fine."

"Do you mind if I look at your driver's license?"

"I assure you I am fine.  But here." He retrieved his wallet from his back
pocket and handed it to Franks. The doctor took the wallet and found his
telephone number, committed it to memory. Then he handed it back.

"Thanks for your help. Please don't tell my wife about this. Goodbye," Then
he left in a hurry.

Doctor Franks was disturbed concerning his strange visitor's safety. He
immediately went to his landline and called the number he had memorized.

"Hello," a woman's voice said on the other end "Who is this?"

"It's about Tom. Is he your husband?"

Cara felt a deep dread at hearing that someone was calling her about Tom.

"Who is this?"

"I'm a doctor."

At that pronouncement, her fear intensified.

"Does he have Alzheimer's?" Franks asked.

"Yes, What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"I'm a retired doctor, but I thought I recognized the symptoms. Your husband
just came to my door asking for instructions to Route 29.  He wouldn't tell
me his telephone number, but was willing to give me his wallet, which had
the information in it. He just left here in a hurry. He wouldn't stay. I
called you as soon as he left."

"Oh, God. Thank you. I've got to go."

Then she hung up and started for her car to find Tom, but stopped herself.
Going after him was a crazy idea. She could easily miss him.  Instead, she
called the Sherriff's office.

"This is the Sheriff's office. Is this an emergency?"

"Yes. My name is Cara Dooley, my husband is driving around lost. He has
Alzheimer's, and I just got a phone call from a doctor saying he came
looking for directions to get to Route 29. We've lived here for over a
decade. I didn't know he was this bad. I'm afraid of what will happen to
him. Can you send out a warning to catch him before he gets himself in real
trouble?"

"Is he at the doctor's office?" the woman who answered the phone asked.

"No. No. He just happened to knock on the doctor's door. It's a retired
doctor, but he managed to get his driver's license and my number before he
left in a panic."

"Let me connect you with Sheriff Tinsley.  Please hold the phone."

Very quickly, Sheriff Tinsley got on the phone. "Hello, Mrs.  Dooley.  Let
me get the essential information out to the men in the field so they can be
looking for him.  What is his name?"

"Tom Dooley."

"Describe the vehicle."

"It's a white Ford pickup. It's just family sized. Its license is 24601.
Please hurry."

"Yes, Mrs. Dooley. I'm discharging the information now.  I'm also sending
two officers to your home to get a detailed report and information. They
should get there within 15 minutes."

"Thank you.  He was going downhill, but I didn't know he was deteriorated as
far as he appears to be."

"Are you prepared to keep him from driving, Mrs. Dooley?"

"Definitely."

"Do you need us to help you legally to do that?"

"No. I'll be able to handle it. I want to protect his dignity. If I can't,
I'll certainly ask for help."

"Don't wait for too long. We don't want him getting in trouble."

"I'm not even sure if we can legally keep him out of trouble. It is hard to
tell how bad he is unless you know him."

"I'm sorry. I just have to ask that. My men will ask you some of the same
questions."

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I'll wait for the officers to get here."

"Thank you for your vigilance. All the best. Can I hang up now?" Sheriff
Tinsley asked.

"Yes."

A squad car arrived quickly after that.  Two officers out of Mayberry came
knocking on the door. Cara let them in and proceeded to repeat much of the
information already given. They took notes.

"You say he is worse than he ever has been?" Officer Jones asked.

"The doctor was very concerned. He has lapses. But he never got lost before.
He doesn't accept that there is any problem with his mind. His mother had
Alzheimer's. We went through hell with her. He said if he ever got as bad as
her, he would kill himself. I'm afraid he would do that. I would rather
control him until he gets worse."

"Do you really think you can keep him from driving?"  the second officer
asked her, his voice sounding cynical.

"I think I can keep the keys from him.  He can't hold a thought long. I'll
call for help if I can't."

The officers looked at her skeptically, but there was not much they could do
to restrict him without   Cara's cooperation.

At that point, Tom drove into his own driveway. 

"That's him now. Thank God.  Can you make an excuse for your being here? "

"Yes ma'am," Officer Jones said, "We understand."

Tom walked in, very curious as to why the police were at his home.

"Hello, sir. We were just leaving. "

"What's the problem, officers?" Tom asked.

"We were just checking out a complaint that one of your neighbors had about
mailbox tampering. You hear anything about that?" Jones asked.

"No.  None that I know of."

"It's probably just an isolated incident. Thank you, Mrs. Dooley."

"Thank you," Cara said warmly. She was thankful that Tom came off so normal.
However, she knew her life would be different from this point forward. Her
mother-in-law had gone through a process that she could see Tom was moving
through. He had passed the time that he could be trusted to drive himself.

Cara took his keys when he wasn't looking. When he said he couldn't find
them, which is something that had often happened in the past, she told him
she couldn't find them, either.  Then, with his waning power to keep a
thought in mind, he simply forgot the incident.  That would happen
continually for a while. Until things got really bad.

Cara knew that she was in for one of the worst problems of her life, and the
stress nearly killed her. She wondered why she had to go through this twice
in her life.  But she survived and eventually thrived. 

Some of the details of this account are not true, but the story is basically
correct.  It is a situation that too many people are facing every day. 

I had a close friend who had dementia.  Strangely enough, the quality of his
poetry endured long into the illness, until he died. I don't know if he had
Alzheimer's disease, but the dementia was growing and he was well aware of
it. He had an episode similar to Tom's. He was driving and suddenly didn't
know where he was. He kept driving until he picked up enough landmarks where
he could re-orient himself and get home safely. It was one of the most
frightening episodes in his life, including his experiences in the Korean
war. He had the presence of mind to throw away his license.  This man never
lost is dignity. May we all be so lucky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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