As Bill pushed open the door of the diner, the top edge of it flicked a piece of metal connected to a small bell which announced the comings and goings of the clientele. He took one step inside then looked around. Seeing Carl studying the menu, he headed over to the booth and slipped into the opposite bench. The two of them made for an interesting contrast. Carl was a policeman and fit the typical idea of a cop: six feet tall and two hundred twenty pounds. Bill on the other hand was merely five foot five and probably weighed no more than one sixty. Despite their physical differences, the two of them were fairly good friends although they rarely saw one another socially except for public events.
"How's it going?" said Bill.
Carl nodded. "Not bad. You?"
"Couldn't be better. How's Patty?"
"Fine. The two of us were out yesterday watching Tony play ball over at Hanover Park. He managed to hit a homer!" replied Carl. Bill made note of that fatherly pride in Carl's voice and smiled.
"All right!" Bill said. He admired Carl. Carl was a good attentive father to his whole family and some could do well to take a lesson from this playbook both on how to be a parent and how to be a husband. As a doctor in the community, Bill saw things which for the most part, remained behind the scenes. "So, what's on the menu?"
"Hmmm, chili?"
"Oh God, Carl, you know that I'll be farting my brains out for the rest of the day with that stuff. Ruby packs quite a wallop and on top of it, I am just so damn - How should I say this? - allergic to onions."
Carl smiled. "Okay, okay. Too much information. You don't have to fill me in on all the details, you know?" Carl continued to study the menu. "I think I'll try the western."
Bill continued looking at the menu in silence for a moment then said, "Ah... why not. Let's make it two westerns."
One of the waitresses walked up to the table and put down two glasses of water and began to arrange two paper placemats in front of the men. "What can I get you gentlemen today?" she said setting out two sets of silverware wrapped up in a paper napkin.
Bill replied, "Two westerns if you would be so kind."
The woman asked, "Fries?"
Bill nodded. Carl said, "Instead of the fries, can I substitute a side salad?"
"Sure," said the waitress. "Anything to drink?"
Bill said, "The water will be fine for now." Carl nodded in confirmation and the waitress went back to the counter to attend to business. "I heard you had a bit of an accident to deal with out on Route 6 over the weekend."
"Yeah." Carl ran one hand over his head as if to smooth down his hair. "It was the oddest thing. The day was sunny. There was no traffic on the road, but then this guy swerves over to the other side of the road and slams into another car coming the opposite way."
"Really?"
"I found a cell phone in the car. I'm guessing the guy was trying to text a message and took his eyes off the road."
"Why do you say that?"
"The phone was on and I could see on the screen a half finished text message. I think a few more letters and he would hit Send."
"What was the message?"
"The message read, 'Stopping at store to' and that's it, nothing more." Carl looked down at the table. "Oh god, I ended up having to tell his wife. She did not take it well."
Carl looked up and the two men looked at each other in the eyes. Bill said, "I'm sorry. It's always tough on everybody involved."
"Well, it was a little spooky. The guy didn't have his safety belt on at the time. On impact, he slammed against the windshield then was ejected from the vehicle when the driver's door popped open. He was lying on the shoulder and I was right there at his side when he expired. The funny thing, as I said, was that it was a beautiful day. There was no traffic; absolutely nothing which would have caused such an accident."
"You never know when your number will be up," said Bill.
The waitress arrived with two plates. She set the first plate in front of Bill and said, "Western with fries." She then set the second plate in front of Carl. "Western with side salad." Glancing first at Carl then at Bill she added, "Anything else?" Carl and Bill looked at her and Bill said, "No thank you. That's perfect."
"Enjoy," said the waitress. She turned and walked away.
Both men started to unwrap their utensils from the paper napkin. Bill carefully placed the fork on one side of the plate and the knife and spoon on the other then put the napkin on his lap. "Death is certainly an odd thing. I've always found it a strange phenomenon how people die but continue to live on in other people." Bill reached out for the bottle of ketchup.
"What do you mean?" Carl had picked up his fork and started on his salad.
Bill took off the top of the bottle, turned it over his plate, and began to shake it. "I just mean that even though somebody dies, he leaves behind things which remind other people of him." Bill held onto the bottle with one hand then picked up his knife and stuck into the bottle trying to coax the ketchup out. "As long as other people remember the person, he sort of lives on." Bill took out the knife then looked up the neck of the bottle with one eye closed. Satisfied with his work, he turned the bottle over and gave it a shake over his plate. A huge glob of ketchup spurted out onto his plate, far more than he needed for his fries.
Carl chuckled as Bill looked at what amounted to a pool of ketchup with a great deal of consternation. "At the hospital, I've had to deal with deaths in families and my observation is that the memories of the deceased are strong and even though the person isn't coming home again, to everybody else, it feels like he is still there." Bill put the top on the bottle and returned it to the end of the table.
Carl picked up one half of his western. He said "Oh" then bit into it. As he ate he watched Bill stab a fry then dip it in the ketchup on his plate.
"Speaking of deaths, how's Mrs. Gilbert doing?" said Bill as he impolitely chewed and talked at the same time. Both of the men had known the Gilberts for decades from when the two of them had Fred Gilbert as a scout master. Both of the Gilberts had been very active in the community, Fred in Boy Scouts and Mildred in the Girl Guides and both Bill and Carl had been part of many of the events the couple had organised over the years from selling cookies to charity collections.
"I spoke with her last week and I think she's sad, but also glad that Fred is no longer suffering." Like anybody entering their so called golden years, the Gilberts understood the idea that health is everything. Unfortunately Fred was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease about a year and a half ago. His decline was sudden and rapid and nobody held out much hope of the end being swift or merciful. Consequently, when Fred's death was announced two weeks ago, it came as no shock to anybody in the community. Hundreds showed up at his funeral to pay tribute to a man who had given so much to the youth.
"I should drop around sometime and pay my respects," said Bill. "I'm certain Mildred will have a lot of things to sort through. I imagine she might even consider giving up the house. It is a bit much for a single person. She should probably move into an apartment of some sort. I know she's still healthy and mobile, but I wonder if she should not consider one of the assisted living places. You can still be independent but you can get help."
"Yeah, that seems like a good idea" Carl smiled. "Sooner or later we'll all be needing something like that." Bill bit into his sandwich and half smiled back as he chewed. "When I was there, Mildred asked me if Patty and I would like to take their canoe." Bill with his mouth full grunted in a way which acknowledged the question with another question as if saying, "Huh?"
"Apparently Fred had a canoe out in the garage. She took me out to look at it. Seems to be in good shape so I'm going to talk with Patty about it. I think I can store it in our own garage and what the heck, it's free. Why not, eh?" Carl looked at Bill for some sort of approval of the idea. At the end of the day though, he knew what Bill thought wasn't what was going to be important, it was going to be his wife.
"You're going to have to talk to the boss about that one," said Bill with a smile. "I'd take it myself, but I know that Patty - quite wisely mind you - likes to avoid picking up things here and there that in the long run you don't really use."
Carl said, "Mildred may have other things she may decide to unload now that Fred is not around. Who knows what else they may have lying around the house? Heck, I was surprised to discover Fred had a canister of helium in the garage."
Bill stabbed his fork into another fry and swirled it in his pool of ketchup. "A canister of what?"
"A canister of helium. Mildred told me that from time to time, Fred had organised various events usually for charity and he used the helium for balloons. The kids apparently loved that sort of thing." Carl stared at Bill. Bill had stopped eating and was looking at the ceiling as if he mulling something over. "What?"
"Fred was cremated, right?" asked Bill.
"Yes. Why?" replied Carl.
"Nothing. Just an odd thought," said Bill. He stabbed another French fry.
Carl stared at Bill with a questioning look. "What are you thinking of?"
"It was just an odd thought of whether Mildred could have offed Fred," said Bill.
"Offed him? How the heck could she have done that? The coroner said it was natural causes; respiratory failure. After all, Fred did have Lou Gehrig's disease."
"There are some organisations which support the right to die."
"Yes."
"I won't, we won't argue whether it's right or not, but these people believe in a person's right to choose to die; especially in the cases where the person in question may be suffering from a debilitating disease like Lou Gehrig's." Carl stared at Bill. "Some practitioners who subscribe to this idea have gone so far as to invent euthanasia devices to be used in an assisted suicide. Most of these devices work on the idea that the patient has the final say and may even press the final button."
Bill wiped his mouth with his napkin then took a sip of water. "Kevorkian, Dr. Jack Kevorkian, is probably the name most people know of in this regard. He had a device which delivered a fatal dose of barbiturates, but the patient had to throw the switch." Bill idly picked up a French fry in his fingers, dipped it in some ketchup, and put it in his mouth. "I recently ran across some information about an organisation in Australia called Exit International. The founder, a doctor, came up with a device or should I say method of euthanasia which is fast, painless, and easy to put together based on easily obtainable materials." Bill took a sip of water.
Carl reached over and helped himself to a French fry. "Yes, go on."
"The human body is capable of detecting levels of carbon dioxide. If you hold your breath, CO2 builds up in your system and the body's natural mechanisms force you breathe again. Oddly enough, your body is incapable of determining whether it's got enough oxygen."
"What?"
"Yes, when you hold your breath, you feel a burning sensation as if your lungs are crying out for more oxygen, but that's not the case. Your body is actually protesting the buildup of carbon dioxide. Your body cannot determine if it has enough oxygen or not. Based on this idea, the method Exit International came up with involves giving an inert gas to the patient. Put a plastic bag over the head; use a tube to pump in the gas, and as the patient breaths, the oxygen in his body is replaced with the inert gas. The level of CO2 in the body remains unaffected so the patient does not panic. Apparently the patient will be unconscious in about 10 to 15 seconds and dead within 3 minutes."
Carl looked perplexed. "Really?"
"Yep. It seems that any inert gas will do but the organisation has said that it is fairly easy to get helium. After all, any party store which deals with balloons would sell it. And the whole thing is virtually undetectable. I say virtually undetectable as while tests may overlook the helium, tests can determine signs of anoxia or oxygen starvation. Anybody looking at the body would think the person is asleep and any professional looking at the body would assume natural causes like the heart just quit. Consequently, who's going to even think about doing any tests?" Bill waved to the waitress and made a motion with his hand as if signing something. She nodded her head understanding he wanted the bill.
"Are you suggesting Mildred did this to her husband?" asked Carl.
"We'll never know now since the body is cremated, but it was just an idea that came to mind considering Fred's condition. As long as the equipment is removed, the bag, tubing, and the canister of helium, I'm sure nobody would think there was any foul play. It's actually a shame when you think about it that people are not allowed to die with some sort of dignity. Once you get into the advanced stages of some of these diseases, the quality of life is an important factor in whether a person wants to go on living or not. One could argue that under these conditions, it's not living at all."
"I know Mildred," said Carl. "I find it hard to believe she would do such a thing."
"Do any of us know what we would do under those circumstances? If Mildred loved her husband, which I know she did, she would want what's best for him and to stand by and watch Fred live a life that was getting more and more untenable, I am sure she would be torn between life and death, or should I say, escape."
The waitress arrived with the bill and put it on the table. As she turned to go, Bill said, "Hold on." He glanced at the amount, and then put some cash on the bill. "Keep the change. Thanks." Bill looked back at Carl and said, "My turn this week. Next week, I'm ordering steak."
The two men slide off the benches of the booth and got up. "Thanks, Bill," said Carl.
"Hey, no problem," replied Bill. He glanced at his watch. "Oh boy, I've got to get back to the hospital. I have an appointment right at one o'clock. Listen, take care and say hello to Patty for me."
"Will do."
Both men walked out the door of the diner. Bill turned right and walked off to the hospital which was a block away. Carl watched him for a moment thinking about what he had said about the helium. The detective in him made him think about the truth - What had Mildred done or not done? - but the humanitarian in him agreed with Bill. Without quality of life, what did one have? After all, the old saying was true: health is everything.
Carl turned and walked back to his car.
2011-05-24
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