An Absent Mind by Eric Rill

Author:Eric Rill [Rill, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780991014408
Amazon: 0991014405
Barnesnoble: 0991014405
Goodreads: 21424290
Publisher: Avante Press
Published: 2014-03-01T08:00:00+00:00

Florence

Symptoms

The telltale signs are all over the place.

Last Sunday, Father and I were on our way back from the park, when he started heading in the wrong direction. I asked him where he was going.

“It doesn’t matter,” he answered over his shoulder.

I steered him back toward the intersection, but as soon as he saw the redbrick school building, he muttered something about being late for class. He made a beeline for the entrance. I didn’t try to stop him, assuming the doors would be locked. But the janitor or someone must have left them open, and he rushed in. Once inside, he raced up the stairs and marched into a classroom.

He stopped in his tracks, eyeing the empty desks neatly lined up in rows that stretched to the back of the room. I couldn’t get him to budge from the space he had commandeered. His eyes moved slowly and deliberately, stopping in front of each desk. He mouthed words that were neither intelligible nor of sufficient volume for me to make them out. Then he walked to the back of the room and tried to squeeze his large frame between the seat and the underside of a desk— probably a difficult task in his day, and an impossible one now. Suddenly, he lost his balance and stumbled backward in what seemed like slow motion. When his body finally settled onto the hardwood floor, he opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. He held that pose until I reached down and took hold of his arm, guiding him slowly to his feet.

After we left, he began telling me about the good old days at school. He talked animatedly about his different teachers and some of the kids in his classes. It was a normal conversation, like nothing had ever happened.

When we got home, Mother was in the den, waiting. I asked Father to share some of the stories with her. He looked at me like I was crazy and asked me what I was talking about.

Yesterday, I took him to see Dr. Swidler for a checkup. Actually, it was Mother who suggested it. Knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he moves into Manoir Laurier, she wanted to make sure he didn’t have any problems with his teeth, on top of everything else. The waiting room was full, but there was one empty seat between two Westmount dowagers. I motioned for him to sit between them, but he, ever the gentleman, insisted that I sit down. Normally, I would have argued the point, but frankly, I was afraid of engaging him in any conversation that could lead to his becoming belligerent. So I sat down, and he stood, hovering in front of me.

Celine Dion’s voice blasted through the speakers in the ceiling, and the sounds of drilling emanated from behind the door. The women on either side of me were practically spitting in my face as they tried to talk to each other above the Muzak, the drilling, and the nearby conversations.

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