[ Back to Main Registry Page ]

[ EDITOR/AGENT REQUEST FOR MANUSCRIPT/SCREENPLAY ] [ Rate this Work ]

Welcome to Authorlink, the news, information, and marketing site for editors, agents, writers, producers, publishers and fans. The Writers' Registry provides a comprehensive view of authors, journalists, and freelancers, what they do, their specialties, projects, and how to contact them.

Frank Hyle

Recent Projects

Caesura, my first novel, was released by Tate Publishing Company in March 2011. I've written a second novel, titled On The Water's Edge,based on my experience as an attorney. That unpublished work is also found on Authorlink. I'm currently working on a third novel based on my experience as a retired U.S. Army officer in the field artillery.

Projects or Proposals Offered

Caesura tells a story of a family learning to accept the changes caused by their mother's dementia.The central event involves mother mistaking music from the radio in her hospital room with the notion that an orchestra is playing outside her window, and the ensuing events based on her son's response.

Searchable Keywords

Fiction, romance, death, elderly

Specialties or Categories of Interest

Fiction centering around the aging and death of a baby boomer's mother.

Experience, Credits, and/or Awards

I am a practicing attorney in Ohio, with 37 years of dealing with the elderly.

Excerpts from Reviews or References

Frank Hyle has offered a book of hope and direction to anyone who is placing a loved one in assisted living or nursing home. The story line is a blend of a son grieving a loss from years ago, with the pain of seeing his mother age. For anyone experiencing the pains of parental placement, this may be the book of hope needed for enlightenment and encouragement. I have been in the hospice profession for over twenty years and this is the first book that addresses the pains and regrets a grown child feels when taking on the parent role

From The Book

Chapter 12

After settling Helen at the apartment with one of her favorite game shows, Michael walked over to Henry’s.

He knocked softly and called out, “Henry, it’s Michael Telford.”

The door opened, and Michael found himself looking into the tired eyes of Henry’s daughter, Jackie.

“Hello, Jackie,” Michael said, offering his hand. “Is everything all right?”

Jackie motioned for him to step back into the hallway. She stepped out as well, closing the apartment door softly.

“I don’t think we should talk in there,” Jackie said.

Just down the hall they found two wing chairs. Michael could see that Jackie was very tired. “How are you doing, Jackie?” he asked.

She offered a wan smile. “It’s nice of you to ask, Michael. I’m awfully tired. It’s hard to see him slip away and not be able to do what I really want with him.”

“What do you mean?” he prompted.

“Dad is dying, Michael,” she answered, tears streaming down her face. “And I can’t help him any more.” With those words she began to let the anguish pour out through her tears.

Michael leaned forward and rested a hand softly on her back. “I’m so sorry, Jackie,” he said, and then sat quietly while she wept.

In a minute Jackie began to calm. She sat up, fishing through her jacket pocket for a tissue to dry her eyes. She smiled at Michael. “Thank you for sitting here with me,” she said. “This has been so hard.”

“Well, I’ve only known your father for six months, but in that time he’s always been a pleasure to be with. I know my mother feels the same way.”

“You two have been wonderful to Dad,” she smiled in return, tears still in her eyes. “Sometimes I think he won’t shut up about the two of you,” she laughed. “It was so kind of you to have him for Thanksgiving. I know I never really thanked you for that, but I have remembered it. That was so sweet. He really enjoyed the day, spending time with your family.”

Michael smiled, and when he remained silent, she continued. “He needs to go to hospice now, Michael, but he won’t hear of it. I’ve actually had a hospice nurse in yesterday and today. He’s dying,” she cried.

Michael took her hand. “Is there anything I can do?”

Jackie looked up, “I wish there was,” she replied.

“Can I go in to see him?” Michael asked.

Jackie patted his hand in return. “Sure you can. I think it would be good for him, and maybe good for you, too, Michael.”

Silence returned again as they both looked down, lost in their thoughts.

Jackie was the first to speak again. She offered a small laugh, and looked up. “Are you planning some kind of concert out here, Michael? It’s one thing he keeps talking about that makes no sense to me. He keeps talking about a symphony, and how he remembers how much he enjoyed having an orchestra play for my mother. I can’t tell if he’s serious about this concert idea, or if he’s making something up in his mind.”

Michael smiled in return. “Well, it’s a long story, Jackie. But I will tell you Henry isn’t making it up. If anyone has made something up, it’s been me.”

Jackie smiled again. “Well, that’s good to know. I was afraid he was getting delusional on me. I’m going back home for a rest. I’m worn out. I hate to leave because I’m afraid I won’t be around when the end comes.”

“I understand,” Michael offered. “You say he’s refusing hospice?”

“He’ll see the hospice nurse,” Jackie replied, “and he’ll let the staff nurse in, Amy especially, but he won’t leave the room. He says he refuses to die in hospice or in a hospital. I’m surprised the staff here hasn’t ordered him out. Sometimes I think he’s got some of them wrapped around his little finger, but it doesn’t matter now. He’s not going anywhere, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I’d be happy to visit,” Michael said.

“Thanks,” she replied. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning, unless they call me sooner.”

As Jackie rose. Michael patted her on the shoulder. She dabbed her eyes again with her tissue, smiled, and walked to the elevator.

Michael returned to Henry’s door, knocked softly twice, then entered without waiting for a response. He walked into the bedroom, where he was shocked to see Henry’s pallor. He looked years older, pale and worn, but he summoned the strength to offer a small smile and nod.

“Hello, Michael,” he offered. “You’re just the man I’ve been waiting for.”

“Well, thanks, Henry,” Michael replied, sitting down on the chair next to the bed. “I’ve just been talking with Jackie.”

“Oh you have now,” he said slowly. “So I take it from your demeanor that you know the medical folks are of the opinion that the end is near for me.”

Michael was moved to hear these words spoken so directly. He could only nod his head, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

“It’s all right, Michael,” Henry reassured him. “It comes to all of us. Your time will come some day, just like your father’s did. Now it’s my turn. Don’t cry, Michael. I’m ready for it. In fact, I welcome it now.”

“You do?” Michael asked in wonder.

“We’re all going to die, Michael. You know that. I’m just glad that I’m aware of it, and that I’ve been able to have a clear mind these last few days,” Henry said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“You have?” Michael asked. “I didn’t know until earlier today that you’ve been so ill, or I would have been here sooner. No one told me you were asking for me.”

“Calm down, son,” Henry soothed. “I spoke to no one about having you visit. But I figured you would stop by one of these days to help me along. And now you’re here.”

“Help you along?”

“Yes, that’s what I said. I’m going to need your help in two days time.”

“What would you like me to do?”

“Nothing for now. Just promise me you’ll be back two nights from now. Eight o’clock would be fine. I’ll need you for about an hour. It would be wise if you did not speak about our appointment to anyone. If Jackie is here when you arrive just hang around until she leaves. Is that all clear?”

“It’s all clear, Henry, but why the secrecy? What’s going on? Are you all right?”

“I’m a little sick these days, Michael, as I believe you know, but I’ll be better in two days time when you arrive.”

“Okay, Henry. I’ll be back in two days. You’re worrying me a little here, but I’ll be back.”

“Good man. I knew I could count on you,” Henry said. “Now, why don’t you get going? I’m pretty tired and I want to save up my strength for our next visit.”

Michael was totally confused when he left. He had a bad feeling that Henry was up to something, but he felt he owed it to the old man to respect his confidence for the next couple of days.

He walked slowly through the hallways to his mother’s apartment. Once there he found her with Amy, who was administering the evening medicines and helping her change into her nightgown.

“How is Henry?” Helen asked. “You were gone a long time. I was afraid you forgot to come back.”

Michael smiled grimly at his mother, and at Amy, too. “He’s very ill, Mother. I think his time with us is drawing to a close. So why don’t you say a prayer for him tonight when you lay down?”

“I will, son,” she said, and her memory issues quickly arose again. “I didn’t even know he was sick.”

“I know, Mother. You get some rest now, and I’ll stop by tomorrow and talk some more.”

“Promise?” she asked.

“Promise. Now let’s get you under the covers.”

He and Amy tucked her in and said good night. Back in the hallway, Amy spoke first.

“Sometimes the memory issues make it easier for someone like Helen to hear about a good friend dying.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Michael said quietly.

“How was your visit?”

“It was short actually. I met with his daughter for a while. She’s gone home for the evening. She wants Henry to go to hospice or a hospital, but he won’t hear of it. She’s taking it hard like you would expect.”

“And Henry?”

“He seems stoic to me. Like he expects to stand up and embrace death,” Michael answered.

“My shift ends soon. I think I’ll go visit him then, ” Amy said.

“He seemed pretty tired when I left him,” he said. “I think he was going to sleep.”

“Well, that’s good. Maybe I’ll wait then till I come back tomorrow.”

“Good idea, Amy,” Michael smiled. “I know he likes you, like everyone does.”

“Present company included?” she asked with a big smile.

“You can count on that,” Michael said with another smile. “We’re still on for Saturday evening I hope.”

Amy held his gaze and his smile. \“We sure are. Now I’ve got more meds to deliver tonight.”

“I hope I see you tomorrow then,” Michael said.

“So do I, Michael. Let’s make a point of it,” she smiled.

Amy then resumed pushing the medicine cart down the hall. Michael watched her walk to the next apartment, where she took up her chart, a cup of pills and knocked on the door before entering. Just before she stepped into the apartment, she looked back at Michael, still standing in the hall, smiled, and said, “Shush now. Get going.”

Michael smiled, waved, and after Amy had entered the apartment, he turned back to the staircase to leave.

Michael decided to alter his routine when he arrived for his meeting with Henry two nights later. Instead of walking through the main facility and visiting his mother first he thought it best to park out front where he usually did, but walk around the buildings to the rear and take a back entrance and stairs to get to Henry’s apartment. Henry wanted Michael to be quiet about this visit, which Michael found troubling, but walking around to the rear would at least partially comply with Henry’s request.

Once he arrived on the floor he saw Jackie leaving her father’s apartment. She looked even more worn and tired. Michael stepped back around the hallway until Jackie had reached the elevator at the end of the other hall. Once she was on the elevator, he proceeded to Henry’s door.

He didn’t knock this time, which was a first for him. He just opened the door at the appointed hour and walked in.

Henry heard him enter and called out. “Is that you, Michael?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good man. Come on back.”

Michael entered Henry’s bedroom and found him looking drawn and pale.

“Thank you for coming. I knew I could count on you,” Henry began.

“I’m happy to be here, Henry, but what is it you’re counting on me to do? It feels like there’s some mystery going on here.”

Henry offered a weak smile. “I need your help so that I can get out of here tonight.”

Michael was astounded at the idea. “What are you talking about? Making a getaway?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Henry said with as much bearing as he could muster. “I want to go for one more walk, Michael,” Henry continued, now with a firmer voice. “I’ve been waiting for the day, and now it’s here. I want to take a walk, and I want you to help me make that happen.”

“What do you mean, Henry? It’s already dark outside, and a little chilly, too. You want us to go for a walk now?”

“Not us, Michael.” Henry stated. “Just me.”

“Henry,” Michael said slowly, searching carefully for his words. “What are you planning here, and what is it you want me to do? I need to talk to the nurses first before I help you up and out for a walk.”

“Now listen to me, Michael,” Henry said again in a voice that seemed to be growing stronger in spite of his weak condition. “I mean to take my walk. It’s important to me. I need to get out of this building one more time. And I need your help for that to happen. I’m not asking you to break any laws. I am asking you to help me quietly, but all I want is for you to help lay out my clothes for me first, and in a little while I’ll want you to assist me getting to the staircase at the end of the hall. I’ve only got so much energy left. I need to save it for my walk.”

“This doesn’t sound good, Henry,” Michael said. “Why don’t I ask Amy to come up to help.”

“No, Michael,” Henry strongly stated again. “It’s your help, and yours alone, that I want. Jackie’s gone home to rest, and I’m glad for that. I need a friend now to get my clothes, my hat and coat, and some shoes ready for me. I’d like you to lay them out for me right here on the bed. Can you do that for me, Michael?”

“Henry, I don’t like this idea. I have to tell you that.”

“I can see that, son, but I need you now. Don’t let me down, please.”

Hearing those words, Michael recalled the lunch visit with his father 10 years earlier, where he was asked by a dying man to not let him down. “Okay, Henry, I’ll help.”

“Good lad. Now we’ll keep it simple. Just a clean white shirt, some dark pants, and my black shoes. Lay them over here next to me.”

Michael chose the clothing from the dresser and laid it on the bed, then went to the closet to fetch the shoes. As he returned to the bed with the shoes, he saw Henry trying to lay the clothes out under the blanket. When Michael approached, Henry looked up with a smile.

“I’ll put these on after you’re gone. No sense upsetting any of the nurses that might walk in on me now, is there?”

Michael smiled for the first time since he entered the apartment. “What are you up to, Henry?”

“Michael, I think it’s best for you that there not be full disclosure this evening. Do you understand?”

Michael’s smile slid away, and alarm crept in to his voice. “Where are you going, Henry?”

“I want to take a private walk, Michael, like a man. I’ve walked all my life. Whenever I wanted to. Dawn, evenings, three o’clock in the morning. I’ve walked at all hours, and now I want to walk once more.”

Henry took the shoes and tucked them under the covers. “Now get me my coat and hat, please.”

Michael retrieved the items from the closet and watched Henry slide them safely beneath the covers.

“Now what?” Michael asked.

“Now, my good young man, I want you to say farewell and go look in on your mother before you tell her you’re going home for the night. In an hour I want you to come back to my room and knock three times. I don’t want you to come in. We’ll say our farewells now. When you return just knock three times if there is no one about in the hallways. I will need some privacy, as you can imagine, to walk to the staircase.”

“Will you be returning tonight after your walk?” Michael asked.

“You’ve been a good friend, Michael, and now a trusted one. It would not be wise for us to discuss anything more about my walk than what we have already. I’d like you to leave me now, quietly. Your help here this evening is something that you and I will keep between ourselves. That’s important to remember. Sound all right to you?”

Michael stared at the old man, who reminded him more and more of his long-gone father. “I want to say it’s all right, but I have to tell you I have a bad feeling about this, Henry.”

“Of course you do, son. And it’s okay that you do. Just so long as you honor our agreement. You’re committing no crime here. You’ve just had a little conversation with an old man.”

“But how are you going to get out of here for a walk? You look so weak.”

“I’m ready for it now, Michael. I’ve been planning this for a long time. You’d be amazed what a man can do when he sets his mind to it, no matter how sick he might be. I’ll take my walk. Don’t worry about that.”

A silence fell over the room.

Henry spoke again. “Go say hello to your mother for me, Michael. You’re a good man. Your father would be proud of the man you’ve grown to be. Take care of your mother. And don’t give up on your concert dream. Make it happen, Michael. I know you believe it’s the right thing to do. I think so, too.”

With those words, Henry lifted his hand from the bed, offering one last shake. Michael took his hand. Henry’s grip was not as strong as in times past, but Michael could still sense some reserve of strength.

“Thank you, Henry. I hope I don’t regret what I’m doing for you tonight. Will I see you tomorrow?”

Henry smiled warmly, and slipped his hand out of Michael’s grasp. “I think you know the answer to that, Michael. Now, off with you.”

Michael fought to offer a smile to Henry in return, fresh tears again in his eyes. “Thank you for your friendship, Henry,” he said as he turned toward the doorway.

“Oh, I almost forgot. There’s an envelope with your name on it under the socks in my dresser. Will you get that out before you go?”

Michael opened the dresser and found the slim envelope. “What’s this?” he asked.

“Something for you to open later. Maybe not for a few days. Give me a head start first.”

Michael turned back to Henry and shook his head sadly. “Good night, Henry. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

“You do that, young man,” Henry nodded. “You do that. Now good night and thanks.”

Henry laid his head back onto his pillow.

“Good night, Henry,” Michael said one last time, and walked out of the apartment.

As Michael walked toward his mother’s apartment he kept wondering if he shouldn’t notify someone about Henry’s plan. Michael had feared over the last few days that something crazy was being hatched by Henry, but he really didn’t think until now that Henry was going to simply march off, never to be seen again.

Much as Michael worried about the idea, part of him kept thinking that Henry was entitled to have Michael keep his word. Henry deserved to be able to take a walk when he figured that one more walk was all he had.

He found his mother getting ready for bed. It was quarter past eight, and she was tired. He helped her finish getting ready for bed, and once she crawled under the covers he sat on the edge of the bed to talk for a while.

“What do you think Dad was thinking when we walked him to the car on his last trip to the hospital?” he asked his mother.

“That’s an odd question,” she responded.

“I’ve been thinking about that walk recently. On my way here tonight it came back to me again. I didn’t know that Dad was dying at the time. I wish I had. But I keep wondering what was going through his mind at the time.”

“He didn’t want to go. He knew what was lying ahead. And that day he just wasn’t quite ready to accept that his time was coming.”

“You knew it all the while, didn’t you?”

Helen smiled. “Of course I did. I lived with your father for a long time. I knew he was failing. I had suggested the hospital two days earlier, but he begged me not to take him there. So I waited. Finally, I began to cry because I was so worried, and he told me to call the doctor. After that I called you.”

“I wish I had told him that I loved him when we were holding each other as we walked across the room.”

“Michael, you can tell someone you love them in many ways. You don’t have to use words. You told him. Just by being there and holding him you told him. He knew it all along.”

Michael took hold of his mother’s hand. “You’re a wise old hen, aren’t you?”

“I have my moments.”

“Thanks for tonight, Mother,” Michael said as he bent over to kiss her on the cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow to see you.”

“Promise?”

“You can count on it. Now get some sleep.”

Michael turned out the lamp in the living room and quietly left the apartment. At the end of the hall he found a sofa near a window overlooking the courtyard. It was quarter til nine, so Michael sat down to wait for his appointed time.

He began to compare this evening’s plan to the day he took his father to the hospital. He wondered whether he had said enough to Henry, just as he always wondered about that day with his father.

He was pondering what his mother had just told him about demonstrating your love for someone without the need for expressing the words themselves. That was a comforting thought. Now he hoped that he was doing the same for Henry. Henry wasn’t his father, of course, but he was a fine man that Michael had learned to care about. He hoped that Henry could see that Michael’s support tonight was an expression of love. God knows, it’s an expression of something, he said to himself, almost laughing. What in heaven’s name have I agreed to do?

A grandfather clock outside one of the resident’s apartments struck nine bells, and drew Michael out of his reverie. He gathered himself and set off again to Henry’s apartment.

When he reached the hallway on Henry’s floor, he saw one of the nurses just finishing up her evening dispensing of medicines. He waited down the hall so that she didn’t see him. After she had finished her charts, she took the medicine cart to the elevator and went down to the second floor to continue her work.

At that point no one was about in the hallway. Michael waited for another few minutes, just to be sure the nurse hadn’t forgotten anyone. The place was quiet, though, and he was certain the coast was clear as he walked down the rest of the hallway to Henry’s door.

Once there he was sorely tempted to walk right in and offer the old man one more hale and farewell. But he knew that was not what Henry wanted. He had already made his good-byes. It was time now to keep his word.

He looked around the hallway one more time. It remained quiet. He knocked three times, then walked down the hall away from where Henry intended to head. He was sure that Henry would not want to see him again, so he turned the corner at the end of the hallway. But curiosity forced him to stop there and wait. He peeked around the corner to see Henry quietly closing his apartment door. He was dressed in hat and coat, ready to go. Henry looked down toward Michael’s end of the hall, and Michael ducked his head back. After a moment he chanced to peek again and saw Henry amble off toward the end of the hall. Once he reached the end of the hallway, Henry paused and looked back down the long hall one more time. He tipped his cap, as if he knew Michael was down there watching him, then opened the door to the staircase and slipped out.

Michael smiled to himself. He knew I couldn’t resist watching him leave. Okay, Henry. Hats off to you, too. Good luck. Michael then headed off to the rear staircase at the other side of the building. Best he be discreet this evening, he thought. He didn’t want to run into anyone else tonight. 

Chapter 13

Once he was safely outside, Michael paused to sit on one of the benches at the back of the courtyard. He had parked his car near the front of Village Green rather than in the lot near his mother’s apartment. He always enjoyed the walk through the grounds. Tonight he looked forward to it again, but he didn’t want to hurry for fear that he might run into Henry coming from the other side of the building.

The air was brisk, as the sky was wide open, filled with stars and a bright half moon. It was a beautiful night to be out, he thought. He sat for 10 minutes before beginning the walk around the buildings to the front lawn.

On reaching the front of the property Michael peered down the long drive that led to the street. He saw a cab turn in, then stop before pulling down the drive. He thought he could see someone silhouetted in the headlights of the vehicle. Is that Henry, he wondered? Is that him?

The rear door of the taxi opened and someone got into the back seat. The taxi sat for a moment longer before the driver backed out of the drive onto the street rather than drive up and turn around in the circle by the main building where Michael stood. Michael couldn’t be certain, but he had a strong feeling that he had just seen Henry drive away in the cab.

Henry was pleased that the cab driver spotted him near the entrance to the property. He didn’t want to be seen near the front of the building, but he was afraid the driver would miss him in the darkness. The driver found him, though, and Henry breathed a sigh of relief before opening the door and climbing into the back seat.

“Where to, sir?” the driver asked his passenger as the back door was closed.

“Not far,” said Henry. “289 Knollwood Drive. It’s off Carson Avenue in College Hill.”

The driver looked in his rearview mirror. “Are you a resident here, sir?”

Henry laughed. “Oh, good heavens, no,” he replied. “My sister lives here. I was just out here visiting for the day.”

The driver was suspicious. He had heard of other cabdrivers getting into trouble after picking up someone trying to escape from a nursing home. He wondered about this guy.

“Kind of late to be visiting, isn’t it?” he asked, still looking in the rearview mirror.

Henry was prepared for this possible challenge. “Not at all, my good man,” he said, with as much good humor as he could muster after the long walk down the driveway. “I hadn’t seen Natalie, my sister, in two months. So I came out here late this afternoon for dinner, and time just got away from us what with sharing old stories about growing up. You know how that is.”

“No car, sir?” the driver asked again.

“No, not for me at night now. I still drive during the day. I’ve got a 1996 Buick Regal, 30,000 miles on it. Mint condition. But I just drive it around on good days. No, I knew I’d be late tonight, so I took a cab out here today. Good questions, you ask. I sense you may be a little concerned about me this evening?”

“Well,” the driver responded, “with all due respect, sir, sometimes a resident calls a cab hoping to escape from a place like Village Green. The dispatch came in for Village Green, and I usually pick up fares by the front door. You surprised me being down here by the entrance on a cold night.”

Henry laughed, “Oh, you thought you might be picking up an escapee tonight? That’s a good one. But I don’t blame you. Can’t be too careful these days, can you? I’m the one that requested the cab, and I thought I’d just get a little walk in before you arrived. Been cooped up indoors talking up a storm, so I thought a little constitutional would be a good idea. I was a little too slow to make my turn back up to the building when you arrived. Glad you saw me when I waved. No, I’m still at my home in College Hill. 289 Knollwood Drive, if you please.”

Henry’s well rehearsed remarks satisfied the driver, who responded, “You got it, sir.”

Henry was relieved that the driver chose to back out onto the main road rather than go up the driveway and pull around the front of the building. He thought he had seen someone at the top of the drive just as he had entered the car. He wondered whether Michael was out looking for him. He wouldn’t doubt it. He had seen him peeking around the corner of the hallway when he had left the apartment. That wasn’t surprising. Michael was a good man, but it was just as well that he didn’t drive by Michael or anyone else he might know now. College Hill was only about 15 minutes away. If he could just make it there without interruption, he would be fine.

The rest of the drive passed in pleasant silence. It was taking too much out of Henry to keep up the conversation with the driver. He was already exhausted from dressing himself and exiting the building unseen. He had chosen to take the stairs rather than risk being seen coming off an elevator. That meant he had to exit at the rear of his building and take the long walk around. But he knew that was the only way he could get out on his own. Besides, he told Michael he wanted a final walk, didn’t he?

They were nearing Carson Avenue and the turn to Knollwood Drive.

“How far down, sir?” the driver asked as he turned onto Knollwood.

“I’ll point it out for you,” Henry responded. “It’s the second last drive on the left.”

As they reached a driveway a few houses up from his own Henry called out, “This will do me fine right here.”

“This is 281 Knollwood, sir. I thought you wanted 289. Looks like that’s one further.”

Henry realized he had slipped up, giving the driver the correct address when he first entered the cab, rather than the house next door, which is where he wanted to quietly exit the cab.

“Forgive an old man, sir. It’s 281. This is it right here. I’ll just hop out at the driveway and walk up. What’s the fare?”

“It’s $12.80. No offense intended, sir, but that looks like a long driveway. Why don’t you let me take you up to the house?”

“No, thanks, that won’t be necessary. I need to finish my walk tonight,” Henry responded, while pulling a twenty out of his wallet and handing it to the driver. “Here you are, sir, thanks for the lift.”

The driver took the bill and reached into his pocket to make change.

“Keep it, my good man,” Henry said as he opened the door and stepped out. “Thanks for your help.”

“Good night, sir,” the driver replied, idling in his vehicle as he watched Henry begin the ascent up the driveway at 281 Knollwood. The driver began to wonder again whether this old guy was up to something. But the driveway turned to the right about 20 yards up, and at that point Henry was lost from view. Oh well, the cabbie thought, as he put the cab in gear and drove off, I guess the old man’s safely home now.

Henry had climbed the steep driveway until it turned away from the road. There he stopped to lean against a tree. He had looked over his shoulder once and had seen that the driver was still sitting on the road. So he had no choice but to keep walking until he slipped out of sight. He was exhausted now. He hadn’t counted on walking so far up the wrong driveway. Now he needed to walk back down the driveway, then another hundred yards down the road to his driveway, before beginning the ascent up his long, twisting drive.

He wanted to rest where he was standing, he felt so weary. But he knew that if he stopped now his evening would end here, so he summoned every ounce of his strength and set off back down the driveway. His pace was exceedingly slow. The temperature was low and he felt his legs begin to ache. Once he neared the roadway he paused to rest again. There were no street lights on the road to interfere with the view of the stars on this clear night. He tried to catch his breath while he gazed at the sky. Orion stood out brilliantly. He’d always enjoyed this time of evening, gazing at the stars. I wonder if that’s Jupiter over there, he said to himself, as he gazed upon a particularly bright star. A slight wind served as a reminder to him to keep moving. Now that he was at the roadway, he needed to walk as fast as his old legs would take him so that no one would see him. There would be no place to hide if someone came along. Fortunately, Knollwood was a quiet street, populated with homes that all had several acres of ground surrounding them. After another few minutes of walking, he made it to his driveway without another car driving by.

Once he reached the mailbox at the foot of the driveway, Henry paused to stare up the long twisting lane. Here he was at last. Home. The grounds were quiet and beautiful. It had been well over a year since he had seen his home of 50 years. There had been many changes to it over the years, but it had always been his shelter, his refuge, and, in his mind, the place where he wanted to die.

After first taking another deep breath, he began the climb. Thirty yards up the darkened lane, a glade of pine trees began to parallel the drive, and he stepped off the blacktop onto the familiar bed of needles beneath the canopy of the white pines. Two steps further in he was enveloped by the darkness. The moon and star light did not penetrate these trees.

He was so tired now, but he kept climbing, looking for just the right spot. There was a particularly wide-based pine at the top of this copse of trees. It was a favorite of his. He had planted the tree himself almost 50 years ago, along with all the others he was now hiking past. This one, however, was the most majestic of all, in his view, and a favorite reading and pondering place for him over the years, particularly after his wife died.

Twenty more steps found him at his destination. I don’t know if I could have gone any farther, he thought, as he put his hand up against the trunk of his old friend, then gently eased himself down to sit at its base. It was even colder now. He bundled his arms around himself, leaning his head back against the trunk. Very cold. His shivering began, followed by a doubt. Is this really what I wanted, he asked himself. Is it really time for it all to end? Here? Alone?

The cold was quickly seeping into his bones. He stretched out his arm and gathered some more pine needles into a small pile, then slid further down the tree to lay his head on them. It was cold, but once he rested his head in his old familiar spot, he felt his doubts slide away. I’ve dreamed about this moment, he thought.

He could see his home clearly now. There were a few lights on inside. Jackie was probably there. His only regret now was the pain he knew he would be causing his sweet daughter. The only way he could justify that in his mind was to believe that, even in her grief, she would understand this was how he needed to go. He was tired of the nurses and the doctors. Tired of the hospitals. And tired of the nursing home. That was no way to live, and once he had been told by his physician that his days were numbered, he concluded it was no place to die either.

She’ll understand, he rationalized. She’ll understand. The cold was penetrating. It was getting harder for him to get a good deep breath. His lungs began to ache, and he could feel that he was about to slip into unconsciousness.

Before the darkness fully overtook him he looked back toward his home. As his eyes settled upon the house, he saw the living room lights go out.

“Good night, my sweet Jackie,” he said softly, so softly even the breeze could not carry it aloft. Images from the past raced through his mind, and suddenly the cold no longer bothered him. He sensed some higher power waiting for him to complete his journey. He watched as the last light within the home was extinguished. Henry closed his eyes, and a few moments later the light within him was extinguished as well. 

Chapter 14

Michael arrived at Village Green the following morning to find police in the hallway and general commotion all about. He came across Amy outside the nurse’s station, visibly upset. She had just finished being interviewed for a second time by a police officer. “Henry is missing,” she cried to Michael. “Sometime during the night one of the nurses went in to check on him and found his apartment empty. Michael, I’m so worried for him. You know how sick he is. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

My God, did he really go off and die, Michael asked himself. Even though he knew Henry was planning something, it was still a shock to think that he may be gone for good. As much as he wanted to tell Amy everything he knew, he was torn about discussing anything about last night. Instead, he chose to give an easy answer, since he really didn’t know where Henry might be.

“I’m afraid I’d only be guessing,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Amy. I know how close you are to Henry.”

Michael felt sick in deceiving Amy. Yet, now with the police around, he even wondered if he may be complicit in some crime by having helped Henry with his clothes last night. Fortunately, Amy didn’t pick up on any of the feelings coursing through Michael’s body.

“Thanks, Michael. I just hope he turns up soon. You better get up to your mother’s apartment and check in on her. It seems like all the residents are already aware of Henry’s absence. She may be, too.”

Michael was glad to get away from the police scene, so he scurried off to the elevator. Just as Amy had predicted, his mother was already aware of the mystery. The story had circulated in the dining room at breakfast that morning.

Her first words were, “Did you hear about Henry?”

“Yes, I did,” Michael said. “It sounds like there’s a lot of people looking for him.”

“Where do you think he went to?” Helen asked. “Back to his home?”

“That’s a real possibility, Mother. I don’t really know.”

After talking in the apartment for an hour, it was time for Helen’s lunch. Michael walked her downstairs toward the dining room. Once they reached the nurse’s station they heard the news that Henry’s body had been discovered. The police had questioned local cab agencies, and late in the morning had found the driver who had taken Henry from Village Green.

Amy met Michael and Helen in the hall outside the dining room, where she told them what she had just learned.

“The police believe Henry called for a taxi from his room, then walked out of the building and met the cab near the front entrance of the property. They say the cabdriver took Henry to his old street, but not to the right home. The driver was a little suspicious, but once he saw Henry walk up what he thought was the right driveway, he figured everything was all right.”

Helen was distressed, and asked Michael to help her sit down. Amy looked at Michael to see if he wanted her to continue. Michael nodded to her to go on.

“As it turns out,” Amy continued, “for some reason Henry got out of the cab up the street from his home. Then he must have tried to find his way home. What happened next is hard to understand. Maybe Henry just became confused while he was walking. At any rate, he was found by the police on his property next to a large old pine tree. He died sometime during the night. I can’t believe it.”

Michael had anticipated something like this, but the news was still chilling. He knew in his heart that Henry was planning to exit this life. But hearing the news aloud was a shock. He and Amy sat down with his mother.

“That poor man,” Helen said. Then, with a flash of clarity, she added, “I wish this hadn’t happened. But I know that Henry wanted to die at his home. Maybe he just decided it was time to get his wish.”

Amy and Michael each looked at Helen in astonishment.

“Helen, did Henry tell you he was going to do this?” Amy asked.

“No, dear,” Helen replied. “I didn’t know he would choose last night to die, but I knew this was what he wanted to do.”

Michael and Amy exchanged glances, before Michael asked, “When did Henry talk about this?”

“Oh, some time ago. I can’t remember when. We talked about a lot of things at dinner time,” Helen answered. She then looked over at Michael and began to cry.

Michael hugged her while Amy took Helen’s hand.

“It’s alright,” Michael said. “He was a good friend, wasn’t he?”

Helen nodded.

“I think you’re right about Henry, Mother,” Michael said. “It’s sad and it’s hard to believe, but maybe this is what Henry wanted to do.”

Amy couldn’t buy into the theory yet. But she knew that she couldn’t discount Helen’s thought either.

“Why don’t you two get a little something to eat,” Amy suggested. “It will do you good, Helen. Michael, will you stop by the nurse’s station before you leave?”

“Sure, I will,” Michael said, as he helped Helen up from her chair and walked with her into the dining room.

The two of them sat at a quiet table in the corner and ordered soup and coffee. After their food was served, Michael asked his mother how she was feeling.

“I don’t know, Michael,” she said. “Part of me thinks this is what Henry wanted, so I guess I should be happy for him. But mostly I’m scared.”

“Scared?”

“Yes. Henry knew what he wanted to do, and he did it. He was a brave man. I’m not that brave. I don’t know when it will come for me.”

“Mother, are you talking about dying? Did you and Henry talk about all this?”

Helen nodded. “We talked about a lot of things. He told me he was sick, and that he was going to find a way to go home to die.”

“Have you told anyone about this?”

“Just what I said to Amy.”

Helen studied Michael’s face before speaking again. “Michael, you were here visiting last night, weren’t you?”

Michael smiled and nodded his head.

“Did you see Henry last night? Did you help him?” she asked.

Michael looked at his mother closely, then reached across the table and took her hand.

“This is a delicate matter, now, Mother. Maybe I did see Henry last night. And maybe we shouldn’t say anything further about that.”

Helen stared into Michael’s eyes. Then she smiled and said, “Henry wanted to be alone when he died. He told me that. And it sounds like he got his wish. I wonder how I’ll feel when that time comes.”

“Let’s not dwell on that, right now. You’ve got more living to do.”

“Michael, maybe this is a good time to talk about dying. I know you think I’ve got a lot more living to do, but I’m tired, like Henry was.”

About The Author

I've been engaged in the practice of law since 1974. My emphasis is on dealing with the elderly. This novel is based on what I learned in the last year of my 94 year old mother's life, when she was fighting to keep her wits about her in the face of early dementia.

Copyright 2012 - 2013, Frank Hyle

Ordering Information

Tate Publishing Company 127 E. Trade Center Terrace Mustang, OK 73064

888 361-9473

order online

To request information on this author or a manuscript contact the listed agent or e-mail: dbooth@authorlink.com

This service is for legitimate publishers, editors and agents only. Please do not request a manuscript or information unless you can verify that you are an active professional in the industry. Thank you!

Note to Editors and Agents: Your contact information will remain highly confidential at all times. The information will be given ONLY to the person whose materials you requested. Thanks.

Author Reference Number	WR12001007
Author Name	Frank Hyle
Your Name
Your Company
Address
City
State
Zip Code
Your Title
Phone Number
E-mail Address
Materials Requested
Enter characters from image below: (we do this to prevent spam)
Phonetic spelling (mp3)