Syndrome by Thomas Hoover (read along books txt) 📖

her, but Ally liked the spunky persona that went along with too many accessories. She still had a trace of her Spanish accent even after all the years in New York. On days when her mother was cognizant, Maria was the perfect companion for her.

Ally handed over the Zabar’s bag and walked in. “Hi, sweetie.”

Nina was on the lounger, where she spent most of her waking hours. Yes, she was definitely having a good day today. She’d done a full makeup number.

Her face could only be described as youthful, no matter that she was past sixty-five. She had elegant cheekbones and a mouth that was still sensuous. And her blue eyes remained lustrous, though nowadays they often seemed to be searching for something, or someone, no longer there. She had a colorist come in every three weeks to keep her hair the same brunette it had always been, and that had a way of making Ally fantasize she hadn’t aged at all. Ally also felt-hoped-she might be looking at a spitting image of herself some decades hence. You could do a lot worse.

The TV was on, sound turned low, and her mother was staring at the multihued screen. Probably the tape of a Spanish-language soap she’d somehow missed. Three cosmetic-heavy women in deeply cut blouses were arguing, all appearing either angry or worried or both.

In times past Nina was always starting some new project, claiming that was how she kept her mind alert. She had taught herself French and had a very good accent, particularly for a Brit. Just before the Alzheimer’s hit, she decided to try to learn Spanish, as something to divert her mind and keep it active. She also wanted to be able to chat with the increasingly Hispanic workforce in restaurants and delis.

Now, though, Ally thought her mom was continuing the language study as part of a program of denial. Nina knew her mind was being stripped from her, but she was determined to try to wrestle it back by giving herself mental challenges. The struggle was hopeless, of course, but her spirit refused to admit that.

Ally bent down and kissed her clear white forehead. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Look at those pathetic creatures,” she declared, only barely acknowledging Ally’s presence. “If boobs were brains, they’d all be Einstein. In my day women knew how to make themselves attractive. Simplicity. Less is more.”

Yep, Ally thought, this is going to be a good day. She’s obviously spent an hour on makeup. For all her complaining she probably watches Maria’s soaps at least in part to glean cosmetic tips. Who knew, maybe she was learning Spanish too, like she claimed. Dear God, let her do it.

Maria was looking into the Zabar’s bag. “Oh, she’s going to love this. Could you come in the kitchen and help me fix a tray?”

That’s strange, Ally thought. Maria thinks I’m all thumbs around food preparation and she never wants me in the kitchen.

The apartment was old enough that the kitchen was a separate room with an open doorway. When they stepped inside, Maria set down the bag and turned to her.

“There was a man here yesterday. I never saw him before. He said he was your brother. Is that true?”

Ally felt a chill go through her body.

“Your mother seemed to know him,” Maria went on, “but I wasn’t sure whether she might have just been pretending. Sometimes you never know what she gets or doesn’t get. She’s a good faker.”

“What… what did he want?”

“Well, the first thing seemed to be that he wanted to ask your mother a question about you. Then he started trying to talk her into going to some clinic out in New Jersey, where they might be able to help… her mind.”

Shit. What is he up to? Is he trying to get to me through Nina?

“You said he asked Mom a question about me? What—”

“What are you two whispering about?” came a voice from the doorway.

“All kinds of secrets.” Ally glanced up and smiled. “Maria was just telling me about a visitor you had yesterday, Mom. Do you remember if anyone came to see you?”

“Pish. Of course I remember. Seth. But sometimes I think I’d just as soon not.” She stared at Ally, those searching blue eyes boring in. “Do you ever see him anymore?”

Funny you should ask, she thought.

Then she wondered, why not tell the truth? She couldn’t think of any reason not to.

“As a matter of fact, Mom, Grant came by my building this very morning. I hadn’t seen him in ages. He called and said he wanted to meet me while I was out running. I told him to bug off, but he came anyway. He wanted me to… Let’s just say he’s still wheeling and dealing.”

Nina looked at her for a long moment.

“He showed up here yesterday morning, darling, out of the blue. After all those years when he didn’t give a shit-excuse my Francais. I acted like I didn’t quite know who he was, but I got every word. He’s still spending his salary on clothes. He talked a lot, saying he knew a man-a doctor with some kind of experimental treatment-who could turn back the clock on my… or at least stop it. He could give me a chance to take my mind back. And then he left his card. He wanted me to talk to you about it and then call him back.”

Grant, you bastard. You didn’t say a word about any of this. What’re you trying to do?

No need for rocket science. He was using Nina as bait. This was his way to make sure she was dragged into whatever shenanigans he was up to. If he got Nina out to that place in New Jersey, whatever it was, it would be like he had a hostage.

She was so angry she was gasping for air. And she felt that damned tightness in her chest coming on.

“I told Maria to throw the card away,” Nina went on, “but then I got to wondering. What if it’s true?”

“You don’t really think—”

“Of course not,” Nina declared, but Ally wasn’t sure how much she meant it. “Probably he just needs money. That’ll come next. I’d guess he’s hoping I’ll give him a ‘down payment’ for this ‘treatment,’ whatever it is. That’s surely what’s going on. Trying to take advantage of a senile old woman.”

Nina didn’t appear to be fooled. Or was she? Sometimes she did her thinking out loud before coming to a conclusion.

“Seth may be barking up the wrong tree with me, Ally,” she went on. “I’m not sure I want any of his miracle cures. I’ve lived my life. I’m tired.” She looked away. “When you’re young, you never think about what it’s like to be old. But then when you do get old you somehow can’t imagine being young again. Having to do it all over…” Her voice trailed off.

Yes, Ally thought, you’ve had plenty of pain you wouldn’t want to relive.

Nina sat back down on her flowered chaise and closed her eyes. “Do you know what day this is?”

“I was hoping you’d remember.” She reached and grasped her hand. “It’s been five years today. Exactly.”

“I still have nightmares about it, the horror, ” Nina said, her eyes still closed “but he did it for me, you know. He thought the insurance was all that would save me. And then when it didn’t… So now we’ve got to hang on with all we’ve got. For him.” She opened her eyes and looked directly at Ally. “One day soon, maybe sooner than we think, I’m going to be mad as a hatter. Time, Ally, time has played a cruel joke. God the Prankster is keeping me in physical health so I can experience every step of my own degradation.” Then she glanced back at the Spanish soap and went on. “I hope you know how to enjoy life, while you’re still full of it. Don’t miss a minute.”

“I’m going to try, Mom.” Ally squeezed her hand again and for that moment sensed Nina was her old self. She wasn’t going to tell her about Dr. Ekelman and the latest heart news. But if she did the response would probably still be the same. Just live life for all it’s worth. You never know if there’s even going to be a tomorrow.

“Would you put on some Janacek?” she said finally, aiming the remote at the TV and clicking it off. “One of the string quartets. I’ve had my fill of Hispanic tarts. I’ve learned a good deal of Spanish from them, but sometimes I think understanding what they’re saying just makes it all that much cheaper.”

That was when Ally realized with a burst of joy that Nina still had an interior life that she was carefully hoarding. What else was going on in that mind? The sense of the night closing in? Do not go gentle. Please. Stay awhile with me.

She got up and went over to the record cabinet. Her mother still had her collection of old 33s, today they were called vinyl, with conductors from decades ago like Bruno Walter and Arturo Toscanini. She found a Janacek String Quartet, No. 2, a rare mono pressing by the old Budapest String Quartet fifty years ago, and put it on the turntable, still loving those first crackling sounds that raise your anticipation. She remembered how Nina would put on a record in the evening, after dinner, with room-temperature scotch in hand, and make the family sit and listen. She suspected that had a lot to do with her own desire to play the violin herself someday. And then, in high school, she started lessons. Better late than never.

Now, though, she sensed there was something Nina wanted to tell her and this was her way of setting the stage.

After the music had played for almost three minutes, Nina listening with eyes closed as though in a rapture as the movement clawed its way toward an initial theme in an elusive minor mode, she turned and looked at Ally.

“He didn’t tell you he came to see me, did he? Seth?”

“I guess he forgot,” Ally said. It was a lie neither of them believed.

“I’ve been thinking over all he was trying to say. I didn’t get everything at the time, but I guess my feeble mind was recording it. Now it’s all coming back. He was talking about Arthur and his suicide-Ally, we both know that’s what it was-and how he felt responsible and how he was finally going to be able to make up for all the harm he’d done to me, and to you. But he was worried you might not want to go along with this special treatment for me.” She was studying Ally, as though searching for an answer. Maria had discreetly departed for the kitchen. “He kept talking about this doctor he knew. At this clinic. He swore this man could perform a miracle for me. He said I should do it, whether you approved or not.”

Ally looked at her, wondering what to say. This was getting too devious for words.

Then Nina went on. “I’ll probably not remember anything about this by tomorrow. But I just wanted to tell you. When you get as mentally addled as I am now, you compensate by developing your other senses, I call it your sixth sense. And Ally, I think he’s involved in something that’s evil. And he wants to draw me into it, maybe both of us.” She stopped carefully framing her words. “I sensed a kind of desperation about him. I don’t know exactly what it was.”

As Ally listened the Janacek quartet swelling in the room, scratches and all, she felt more