Geezer

“The new fellow . . .” Dad starts a sentence and then peters out. “Brianna?” I suggest. “Brianna had to come here to piss and shit,” Dad says. “She came to take a shower,” I clarify. “Because the thing over there was blocked up,” he says. “They have no hot water,” I tell him. Somehow he has gotten the general idea – someone needed to use his bathroom because theirs wasn’t working- but the details are all mixed up.

Dad is smoking his customary after-dinner cigar. “Do you mind my smoking?” “No, my mother smoked my whole life so I’m used to it.” “Is she still alive?” he asks. “No.”

I put Dad on the phone with Kate S. He’s getting the hang of holding and talking into my cell phone. “I understand you’re going to be there for at least a month,” he says to her. “What are you going to do? You’ll go crazy!” I don’t catch what she tells him, but it must have to do with our visit on Sunday, because he asks “Where is your house? We’ll have to have evidence to somehow get there.” “We’ll take a taxi,” I tell him, resolving that worry.

Dad is watching me type again “I think you’re working your hands faster than they were a month ago. You know where all the letters are. I don’t think your hands can move any faster than they’re doing now, “ he says.

A postcard comes from Dad’s friend Peter. I read it to him. In the card, Peter refers to his own typing as “a particularly spastic case of geezer operating geezer typewriter.” Dad says, “what’s a geezer?” I explain that it’s a way of referring to an old man. “Peter’s not very old,” Dad says, “he’s ten years younger than me.” I point out that this still makes him 75, but Dad is unimpressed.

I take “a passion for desserts” from my bag. I never cook elaborate stuff at home anymore, so the cookbooks are migrating to Dad’s house. “This whole book is all about desserts,” I tell him, handing it over for inspection. “This is heavy, wow.” Dad turns the pages. “I cannot see a damn thing,” he says, “I don’t understand what happened. I think, I’m not sure, but I think there’s a whole- it’s a mystery to me. I think there’s some kind of deliberateness going on. I still suspect there’s some kind of a plot with engineers, people who are interested in it. I just can’t believe that things can happen – bang – just like that.” I try to tell him that it’s a cumulative effect, that he’s been having trouble with his eyes for a long time, but I can tell he’s not persuaded.