Chapter 4 It's his Memory Pills

Dressed in comfortable shorts and a matching tank top, my hair still wet from my shower, I sat across from Esther at my kitchen table. The metal-frame table and chairs, left by the previous owner, were homely but would do until I could buy a new set.

Esther had changed into a chartreuse sundress patterned with large yellow-gold flowers that matched the color of her dyed hair. When she sat, the dress rose above her knees, exposing mighty thighs. The look wasn’t flattering, but had to be comfortable in the late morning heat.

Still on edge after my encounter with a dead body just an hour ago, I thought longingly of the bottle of Chardonnay chilling in my fridge. But Esther was a teetotaling Baptist, so I’d made a strong pot of hot tea instead.

“It’s his memory pills,” Esther said, settling her teacup in its saucer.

It was hard to think of eating after what I’d witnessed this morning, but I politely took a bite of one of the little cucumber sandwiches Ester had brought over. “This is delicious,” I said, meaning it.

“I figured you wouldn’t want ham and cheese.”

I nodded, finishing the sandwich. “Thank you. What do you mean, memory pills?”

“A couple years ago Arnie started forgetting things. His doctor put him on memory pills. Not long after that, Arnie passed out on the golf course. Scared his friends real bad—they thought he’d had a heart attack or a stroke. They called a ambulance and Arnie got admitted to Queen’s. The doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with him so after a couple days they sent him home. The fainting spells kept happening. He ended up in the hospital a few more times, but they never did figure out what the problem was. Then one of his doctors suggested Arnie should try going off  his memory pills, see if that helped.”

“And did it?”

Esther nodded, stuffing another sandwich into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, drank some tea. “Sure enough, Arnie stopped passing out.”

“So now he stays conscious. He just doesn’t remember who he is,” I said.

“That about sums it up.”

“He seems pleasant. Being the only man in the building—except for Romy, of course—Arnie must be in demand.”

Esther shifted in her seat. “Romy’s like a son to all of us here. But yes, there’s definitely some competition for Arnie’s attention. Pretty much every woman here has, at one time or another, tried to claim him as her own.”

“And has he actually dated anyone here?”

She shook her head, concentrating on another sandwich. “I don’t think he’s interested in settling down with one woman—and one woman’s cooking.”

My surge of adrenaline had worn off. Exhaustion was setting in. I pressed two fingers between my eyebrows.

“You okay?” Esther asked the same question I’d asked her several times that morning.

I shook my head and let out a loud sigh. “What a day.”

“You’re not kidding. Pearl is the second one to die in our building in a few weeks’ time. The last one was Imogene, the lady who lived here in your condo.”

It was an unpleasant thought, to be sure. But I figured it was pretty much the standard for a senior complex—as demonstrated just today by Pearl’s unexpected vacating of the premises. “I heard Imogene was on dialysis.”

Esther nodded. “Yeah. She was eighty-eight and had all kinds of health issues. One night a ambulance came and took her away, and next thing we know her family’s cleaning out her condo.” She gave me a pointed look. “You sure managed to move in quick once she was out.”

“I’m truly sorry for her family’s loss.” I sipped my tea. “But the family was in a hurry to sell, and it really was a lucky break for me. Ever since my husband died, I’d been having thoughts of moving to Hawai‘i. Then my dog Nigel passed on, and there was nothing left to keep me in New York.

“But my step-daughter Louise told me senior condos almost never go up for sale in Hawai‘i. When they do, they’re snatched up immediately. I had to wonder if she was trying to discourage me. Like maybe she thought I’d eventually become too much of a burden. Then one night a couple months ago, she called. She’d heard about this place from a customer on her route—she’s a mail carrier here on O‘ahu—and asked if I was interested. Of course I was. I got on the next flight to Honolulu and signed the papers before it even went on the market. I’m sure I paid more than market value, but it’s still nothing compared to prices in Manhattan”

“So you got some family here,” Esther said.

I set my cup down, stared into it for a minute, gave a little shrug. “Louise is my husband’s daughter, but I never met her while he was alive. They hadn’t seen each other or spoken in seventeen years, then she made a surprise appearance at Howard’s funeral. All the way from Hawai‘i to New York to see her father buried. As if she needed to see for herself that he was really under the ground.”

“Sounds like somethin’ musta happened between them.”

“Howard’s wife died when Louise was fifteen. Louise ran away at seventeen. I was never clear on why. I met Howard years later and his daughter was one thing he never wanted to talk about.”

“And now?”

“I have no doubt she resented me for moving into her mother’s apartment and taking over. When she came to the funeral I sensed she was prepared to dislike me, but when we finally did meet there was a surprising a connection between us. We never said it in so many words, but I felt it and I know she did too. We kept in touch, and now here I am living a few miles from her. I hope we’ll finally get to know each other better.”

Esther grew quiet for a moment, then said, “As I get older, more and more of the people I know pass on.”

I gave a slow nod. “I remember my own grandmother making that same observation when she was our age. In Manhattan I lived in Stuyvesant Town. Do you know it?”

“I’m from upstate, but I heard of it.”

“It was built right after the war, a hundred and ten high rises on eighty acres. Eleven thousand five hundred units with twenty-five thousand residents.”

“Here that would be hard to imagine.”

“Even in New York it’s pretty mind boggling. The units are rent controlled, and in Manhattan that’s priceless. The only way anyone leaves is on a stretcher, and then their apartment is usually passed on to family members. The rare ones that do come vacant are renovated and rented at the current market value. Originally, the residents were young families with kids. Over the decades, of course, the population of Stuy Town aged. More and more frequently, I’d hear an ambulance pull up outside. Too often, one of my neighbors would be taken away, never to return.”

“That’s depressing.”

“It was. When I married Howard, it was the second time around for both of us. His wife had died young, of cancer. I moved into the apartment they’d shared, where they’d raised their children. There were traces of her everywhere, including her grand piano that sat untouched in the living room like a shrine.

“Howard and I had been together nearly fifteen years when he died of a stroke four years ago. I stayed in the apartment only because it seemed a shame to give up something so coveted. Neither of Howard’s kids were interested in having it.

“Then one morning I opened my eyes and looked around at the home that had never truly felt like mine. Suddenly I knew I didn’t want those four walls, filled with other people’s memories, to define my future. I’ve got a little more life left in me and I wanted to do some living before my time runs out. I am definitely the exception. I walked out of Stuy Town on my own power.”

Esther gave me a wide grin. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

I grinned back. “Me too.”

Though, after today, I wasn’t so sure. I refilled our cups from the flowered tea pot. “In New York, with tens of thousands of neighbors, one died now and again, of course. But I was never the one to find a dead body. Then I come to this lovely paradise, with only twelve residents, and the first thing that happens …”

I massaged my forehead, trying to block out the image of the dead woman in the hot tub.

“I know. It’s crazy,” said Esther. “I can’t believe Pearl drowned. She was probably the best swimmer of all of us.”

“Do you know how old she was?”

“She made a point of not talking about her age, but I know she was sixty-seven. I was in Romy’s office when Pearl was moving in, and I just happened to see her birth date on some of the paperwork.”

“That’s so young.” I shook my head, wondering what made Pearl want to live in a complex filled with people almost old enough to be her parents.

Esther said, “Maybe she had some sort of medical condition no one knew about.”

“I guess they’ll find out when they do the autopsy.” A picture flooded my mind, of Pearl’s body laying on the ME’s cold metal table, her lopsided breasts exposed. “Esther. Was there anything unusual about Pearl? I mean, was she a little … off-balance?”

Esther held her teacup in two hands and stared straight ahead. “She was a colorful personality, for sure. She didn’t quite fit in with the rest of us. Flamboyant—that’s the word I’m looking for. Besides teaching country western line dancing, she liked to go to folk dancing. She would wear fancy cowgirl boots and these full denim skirts with layers of petticoats underneath. In her younger days she was a rodeo queen. She’s got lots of ribbons, trophies, and framed photos in her living room. I wonder what’ll happen now to her condo and all her stuff.”

“Does she have any relatives?”

“She never mentioned any. I don’t think she ever got married, never had no kids.”

I tried to picture Pearl as the vibrant woman Esther described. “Was there anything odd about her—physically?”

Esther thought for a moment. “Some of them thought she wore her hair too long for a woman of her age. The ladies here all enjoyed her dance class on Tuesdays, but behind her back they called her a show-off. Pearl was an attractive lady and I’m sure they were jealous of her.”

“Good figure?” I prodded.

“Whoa, yeah. She had a killer fig—” Esther’s fingers clamped over her mouth, her eyes opened wide.

“Poor choice of words.”

She nodded.

Had Pearl’s breast somehow deflated when she died? Does that even happen? It seemed such a private thing. If no one else had noticed, I shouldn’t be the one to bring it up.