“Canada Post isn’t noted for its speed or efficiency,” I reminded her.
“True, but even they couldn’t be this bad.”
“Are other people having the same problem?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Exactly how is mail delivery handled here?”
“A Canada Post truck brings it to the desk around ten a.m., then Herman, one of the residents, leaves it outside each door.”
“Could he be stealing mail for some reason?”
“I don’t think so. He’s very competent and honest.”
“I have an idea. Why don’t I take advantage of the one-week trial and move into Golden Sunset — work undercover?” I explained my office arrangements with Hank, whom she remembered. He could look after my calls and mail if there were any.
I told Marilyn that I was so impressed with the Home that I would like to move in that day. I hoped that I could control my phobia about retirement residences.
At the office, I told Hank what I was doing, at home i picked up a few clothes and other items, and soon I was back at Golden Sunset. Marilyn was still on duty. She gave me lists of rules and regulations, services provided such as laundry and cleaning, times of meals, and keys to the front door and my suite. “I’ll put you in 313. It’s vacant and it’s next to your friend, but no hanky-panky,” she grinned.
Now came the hard part: I wrote a cheque for a hundred dollars, crossing my fingers that it wouldn’t bounce. As I left for my suite, Mr. Complin arrived, full of sound and fury, to complain about the temperature in his room. Marilyn explained to him how to operate the thermostat.
I had almost completed unpacking when there was a knock at the door. I answered it.
“What are you doing?” the man demanded. I thought the articles on the bed and the dresser made it obvious, but I told him: “Moving in.”
“You won’t like it here.” Was he related to Complin?
“I’m on the one-week trial.”
“Oh.” He seemed to relax a little. “I’m Darcy Love. I’m in 311.” We shook hands perfunctorily and he left. I finished unpacking.
That night at dinner, I was about to sit across from Willa when Darcy said: “I usually sit there.”
“Sorry.” I moved to the next seat which was at the head of the table. I felt like a king at a banquet. Despite Complin’s constant carping, the food was good.
“They put Elmer in 313, next to you,” Darcy mentioned, seeming annoyed.
“You’re just a few steps from my suite,” Willa smiled.
“And I may be here for only a few days,” I reminded him.
At two a.m. I was awakened by a terrible stench. Outside my door, in a large pan, sulphur burned, producing the famous “rotten egg” smell of chemistry classes. A few glasses of water extinguished the flames. Fortunately, the plush beige carpet had not caught fire, but the smoke alarm went off and everybody on the floor joined Willa, Darcy, and me in the hall. I wondered if this were some sort of initiation for the new tenant. Oh, well, it would give Complin something else to grumble about.
