Getting Old is a Disaster Read online

  He indicates the numbers on her arms. “When were you there... Auschwitz?”

  She says, “Forty-two to forty-five. Sometimes in my dreams I imagine it never happened...” She moves a teacup around in its saucer but doesn’t drink. “In my nightmares there is no doubt it did.”

  “You know the strange thing?” Enya understands he is changing the conversation away from the personal to make her feel more comfortable. “I only found out afterward. It was only Auschwitz that tattooed the numbers. None of the other camps ever did.”

  “I never heard that,” she says.

  “Your husband. You. What work did you have in Prague... before...?”

  “Jacov and I both taught at the university.”

  “I was never there. I never traveled far from Munich.”

  They sit still for a while. Enya watches the second hand on the kitchen clock move round. She wishes he would go away. Her body is sweating; she wants to wash.

  Abe finally gets up. “I will leave now. You must have your dinner to prepare. Thank you for the water. He gathers up his photos and places them gently into his wallet. He walks to the door, and as Enya moves around him to open it, their arms touch for a second. Enya’s body goes rigid.

  Abe opens the door; bows, and leaves.

  Enya slowly returns to the kitchen table and sits down. She lifts the bouquet of flowers from the vase in which she placed them and buries her face in them. She remains there, sobbing until it gets dark.

  Gladdy Has a Hunch

  I wake up abruptly; something in a dream startles me into consciousness. Jack turns, opens one eye, and says, “What?”

  I pat his shoulder gently. “Go back to sleep. It’s nothing.”

  The phone rings. Jack groans and puts his pillow over his head. I look at the clock. Eight A.M. Has to be one of the girls. I’m up already, might as well start moving.

  I answer the phone in the kitchen so as not to disturb Jack. It’s Sophie.

  “News,” she says. “The pool is fixed and they’re putting water in it. Everyone’s going to watch.”

  “Everyone? How many calls have you made?”

  “I didn’t. Bella called me because Ida called her because Evvie called Ida.” And she adds petulantly, “We always used to get up this early anyway to do our exercise.”

  She’s speaking in past tense because since Jack moved in, our early-morning routine has vanished. There’s a tiny bit of complaining in Sophie’s voice. I have to pay attention to this.

  “Okay,” I say, “I’ll meet you down there soon as I get dressed.”

  “Don’t bother wearing your suit. I don’t think we can swim yet. Something about chlorine.”

  I hang up. Why are we all going to the pool if there’s no water? I hum a few bars of “Tradition” from Fiddler on the Roof.

  As I grind my coffee beans it hits me. Why I woke up so abruptly. I phone Stanley. I know he gets up early to supervise the repair work. Maybe I can catch him before he leaves.

  Too late. His wife, Esther, tells me I just missed him.

  I say, “When you hear from him, please tell him to find me. I need to talk to him about something important. If I’m not in my apartment, I’ll be at the Phase Two pool.”

  I enjoy my coffee and toast, get dressed, and leave Jack a note. It says, “Not going swimming, but will be at pool. Don’t ask. Love and xxxx.” I leave the note and a camellia on my pillow. I’m really getting into this living together stuff.

  What a sight! Everyone sits in his or her usual place, facing the pool. Well, not everyone. Our Canadians won’t be back for a while. But here they are, our regulars, staring at a pool slowly being filled with water. Comical, really. Seems as exciting as watching grass grow. Nothing too much is happening.

  The difference is we have our new temporary neighbors, and even they have come down for this non-event. First face I see is Louise’s. She immediately looks behind me to see where Jack is. Maybe she’s hoping we had a fight and he’s up for grabs. Not a chance, lady.

  Dora Dooley has pulled a patio chair next to Bella and Sophie, even though they try to avoid her existence by chatting with their backs to her. Dora’s deep into a TV Guide magazine, marking shows she wants to see. Ida knits, ignoring all of them.

  Joe has a chaise next to Evvie. He’s glued to her side. The way he watches her makes me imagine how a starving man might look at a steak. Evvie pays no attention to him and is engrossed in a book.

  Tessie sits on the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in air, as she stares down, watching for the water-level changes. Being the only real swimmer, she can hardly wait until the pool fills. Her hubby, Sol, is a different person since their marriage. The talkative Sol has turned very quiet. As Evvie said to me a while back, she’d love to be a fly on their wall. I’m curious, too.

  In between slathering suntan lotion on each other’s backs, Casey and Barbi sit directly in the sun, playing gin rummy.

  I note that Enya is not here. However, her new neighbor, Abe, who brings flowers, sits in the shade behind the small wrought-iron gate, away from us, reading a newspaper. Abe is fully clothed, wearing his usual black suit. He doesn’t seem to mind the heat. I’m surprised he’s even there.

  And last and never least, Hy and Lola.

  It’s as if he’s been waiting for me to arrive. “In honor of the return of our pool, I got a new joke, folks.”

  Sol says, “Hah! Like we care.”

  Tessie gives her darling a little pinch. “You tell him, honeybunch.”

  No one shows any enthusiasm at all, but Hy is never bothered by opposition. In fact, he thrives on it. He gets up and emotes:

  “A young woman brings her fiance home to meet her parents. After dinner, the mother tells the father to find out about the young man. The father invites the fiance to his study for a drink. ‘So, what are your plans?’ the father asks the young man.

  “ ‘I am a Torah scholar,’ he replies.

  “ ‘A Torah scholar. Hmmm,’ the father says. ‘Admirable, but what will you do to provide a nice house for my daughter to live in, as she’s accustomed to?’

  “ ‘I will study,’ the young man replies, ‘and God will provide for us.’

  “ ‘And how will you buy her a beautiful engagement ring, such as she deserves?’ asks the father.

  “ ‘I will concentrate on my studies,’ he replies. ‘God will provide for us.’

  “ ‘And children?’ asks the father. ‘How will you support children?’

  “ ‘Don’t worry, sir, God will provide,’ replies the fiance.

  “Later, the mother asks, ‘How did it go, dear?’ “The father answers, ‘He has no job, he has no plans, he has no ambition, but the good news is, he thinks I’m God.’ ”

  There are a few small laughs. Abe gets up with-out a word and starts to leave.

  “You insulted him,” says Evvie, “using the name of the Lord in vain.”

  “What’s the matter, a man can’t take a joke?” Hy says, offended.

  As Abe moves out of the perimeter of the pool area, he meets Stanley, who is hurrying in. That stops him. “Is something wrong?” Abe asks worriedly.

  “I don’t think so, but”—he glances to me— “Gladdy said she needed to see me about something important.”

  I am now the center of attention. I try to underplay it. “Just some thoughts I wanted to share with him.”

  Sophie claps her hands. “I bet it’s about the skeleton.”

  “Yeah,” says Bella excitedly. “I bet you figured out who he is.”

  My girls are about to move in my direction as I head toward Stanley. I wave them down. “Relax, everyone. Let me chat with Stanley. If there’s anything new to report, you’ll hear about it.”

  They are disappointed. Everyone stares after us as I lead Stanley out of earshot.

  We find a bench to sit at near the duck pond. The ducks are slowly returning after our disaster. I wonder how many were lost forever. We settle ourselves under a tree that is split
in half, another result of the hurricane. Stanley shakes his head at all the damage to plants and trees. “So many years this tree was here. I remember we planted it soon after we finished the construction. Now it’s dead.”

  I commiserate with him. He changes the subject. “Never mind, you have information? I thought our case was over.”

  “Just a hunch, Stanley. Something’s been bothering me ever since we came back from Tampa. We finally decided that this Lucy Blake’s brother, Johnny, was not our skeleton. But his sister, Lucy, said something that stuck in my head. She questioned the way he died. Falling off the dock immediately after a long voyage? Lucy was informed that her brother definitely left the ship. But what if he didn’t? What if somebody wanted to steal his papers? Somebody trying to get into this country from a foreign country? He would wait until they were near port because he couldn’t move around the ship before that. Suppose he threw Johnny

  Blake overboard the day they docked, and used his papers to get off the ship?”

  “A stowaway, you’re thinking?”

  I nod. “Yes. Once onshore, he could have been moving around, using Johnny’s identity, and some-how ended up here and got the job working for you.”

  Stanley is eager now. “And this stranger is the one buried under the cement.”

  “Maybe,” I say, “and maybe not.”

  He looks puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. But it’s something to think about.”

  Stanley paces back and forth in front of the shattered tree, his hands behind his back. “How can we make sure that it is the same Johnny Blake who is the connection? How can we find out?”

  I shrug. “You got back the items you gave Morrie for the testing?”

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, this morning. They are in my apartment. I was trying to figure out what to do with them. I almost threw them away.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t. Would you please bring them to my apartment? I want to look closely at them. Perhaps there’s something we’ve missed.” We reach my building. I’m about to go upstairs and Stanley is starting to head for Phase Six, when we run into Abe again. He’s standing at his mailbox. He must be eager for something to arrive. The mail doesn’t come for another hour.

  Abe asks Stanley, “Is there a problem?”

  Stanley pats him on the shoulder. “Everything is under control, old friend. This brilliant lady doesn’t give up easily.”

  Abe gives me a bright smile. “That is good news indeed.”

  Putting It Together

  We’re seated around my dining room table eating lunch. Everyone’s a little nervous. This is the first time the girls have gathered in my apartment since Jack moved in. They are on their best behavior. Sitting up tall, like elegant ladies, eating slowly, positively dripping with good manners. Jack is cramping their natural style.

  “Would you please pass the salt?” Sophie asks ever so politely. Their usual behavior is boarding-house style—reach over and grab.

  Bella daintily lifts the salt shaker with pinky held high and passes it to Evvie, who gives it to Ida, who places it in Sophie’s outstretched hand. What a performance.

  Jack smiles and mimics them. “Glad,” he says, “would you do me the honor of handing me the pepper?”

  “Sure,” I say. I lift the shaker and toss it to him. He grabs it and I smile back at him. For a moment, the girls are bewildered, but then they get it and start to relax.

  By now I’ve filled everyone in and we’re waiting for Stanley.

  Stanley is excited. He can hardly contain himself. He comes in waving a tattered old envelope. “You are so smart, lovely lady. I never paid attention. The Christmas card to a Lucy Blake came with an envelope. And an address.” His hands are shaking as he passes the envelope to me.

  I scan it quickly and read, “ ‘Lucy Blake, P.O. Box...’ ” And I stop, chagrined. “Oh, Stanley, it’s a fifty-year-old post office box number!”

  The girls get it immediately. Then Stanley’s smile fades. “I didn’t think.”

  I pace for a few moments, exchanging glances with Jack. “Hold on, maybe all is not lost. Maybe she’d remember her old number.”

  Evvie isn’t convinced. “You really expect that Lucy woman to remember a post office box number she used almost fifty years ago?”

  Sophie chirps, “I remember the first phone number I ever had, when I was twenty. Tivoli two four eight five... three.”

  Ida says, “I lived at thirteen forty-five Manor Avenue, apartment four-J, in the Bronx, until I was sixteen.”

  “Come to think of it,” Evvie says, “I remember the first driver’s license number I ever had.” She gets up and pours coffee for all of us.

  “Okay, okay,” I stop them. “You made your point. Maybe she’ll remember and maybe she won’t. We’ll soon find out.”

  Bella giggles. “But don’t ask me what I just ate for breakfast.” Then she says, “I still don’t get it. This boy, Johnny, dies because a man kills him for his identity, so why isn’t the bad guy the skeleton?” Jack says, “Let me try to explain, Bella.”

  Bella practically bats her eyes at him. She’s his number-one fan in my motley group of P.I.’s. I know Sophie also adores Jack, and Evvie finally is happy about my relationship with him, acknowledges it as the real thing. I watch for Ida to respond. Is she going to be my only holdout in accepting Jack, who seems to be infiltrating our investigating team? Not a hint does she reveal on her face. Her arms are crossed, however.

  Stanley says, “You’ve obviously done some thinking. Fill me in.”

  Jack attempts to simplify it. “Lucy Blake told you, her brother Johnny was on a ship coming from South America. A bad guy, probably trying to get into our country illegally, steals his papers and kills him. With me so far?”

  Bella practically gurgles.

  “The bad guy throws Johnny overboard near shore. Does it just before they dock. The authorities insist Johnny left the ship with all the others. The fake Johnny uses the confusion of docking and rushes off the ship as fast as he can, flashing the stolen papers. After the real Johnny’s body washes up, the police figure he must have fallen off the dock. His sister doubts it.”

  Evvie has to jump in. “Okay, so he wanders around as Johnny Blake and ends up working on Lanai Gardens. It was a dark and stormy night.” Evvie smiles; she’s imitating a classic mystery novel beginning. “Someone comes to the construction site. And ends up murdered and thrown in the hole.”

  Bella raises her hand. “Stop. That’s what I don’t get. How do we know it wasn’t the phony Johnny Blake that died?”

  My turn. “I’m making that assumption. The bones found do not match the description that Stanley’s foreman gave of the man he hired as Johnny Blake. Also, we now realize the impostor has already committed one murder. My supposition is, whoever came upon him that stormy night was the one killed. The bad guy already murdered one man; it wasn’t a big jump to suppose he could murder another. Besides, the bones describe a much smaller man.”

  Good. Here comes Ida, joining in at last. Her curiosity overcomes her misgivings. “But why?”

  I lean back and sip my coffee. “That’s the big question.”

  Sophie offers, “A robber came to rob him or to steal building supplies?”

  Ida says, “Doubtful. What with how bad the weather was that night.”

  Jack says, “Perhaps it was someone who was looking for him and finally found him.”

  I add, “And they had a fight?”

  Evvie shakes her head. “So if that’s true, now we have two unknown men. The bad guy and the mysterious stranger. How can we possibly figure out who they were?”

  Ida says, “Sounds like another dead end.”

  I say, “I’m hoping Lucy will recognize the post office box number. If so, it will be definite proof the bad guy is connected to this Johnny Blake. We need to narrow that fact down.”

  Stanley looks at me doubtfully and shrugs.

  “It’s all we have to g
o on.” I hand him my phone and I turn on the speaker so we can all hear. He takes a card from his pocket and dials Lucy’s number.

  We’re in luck, Lucy’s home.

  After Stanley explains why we’re calling, he repeats the number on the old, crumpled envelope.

  For a moment, she’s surprised. Then I can almost hear the smile in her voice. “Funny you should ask,” she says, “I happen to be very good with numbers. I had that box number for years. Why do you want to know?” But she speaks before we can answer. “The man you found had Johnny’s belongings, didn’t he?”

  Stanley says, “We think so. There was a Christmas card with your name and that post office box number.”

  “I knew it,” Lucy says. “I was sure somebody killed my brother. Please,” she begs frantically, “promise me you’ll find him, so my brother can have justice.”

  Stanley looks at me and I nod. “We promise. We will do everything we can to find him.”

  He hangs up and I’m exhilarated. “Now we have proof!”

  Stanley says wryly, “All you have to do is solve the crime. Identify the other dead man and a murderer who’s gotten away with it for fifty years.” Everyone looks to me, as usual.

  Jack raises his eyebrows. I know what he’s thinking. “What has his Gladdy gotten herself into this time?”

  When Night Falls

  First rainy day we’ve had since the hurricane. It’s the three D’s out there. Dreary, dark, and depressing. I have every light on in the apartment to chase away the gloom.

  I wait for Jack to come home. He’s late tonight. Though things have calmed down, I guess there are still many neighborhoods that are far from being repaired and that’s where the extra police still guard for trouble.

  It’s my night to cook. Jack has made our cooking evenings a fun contest. Surprise Night: “I’m not telling you what I’m making, see if you can guess by the way the kitchen smells.” No White Food Night; not a bad thing, leaves out lots of starches. Or Competition Night; “Who makes the best lasagna?” Not that we have lasagna two nights in a row. The competition is two weeknights apart.