Brad Ferguson - The Forever Con

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“The Forever Con” by BRAD FERGUSON

Previously unpublished

Duplication or redistribution of this file in any form whatsoever is strictly prohibited.

HE OLD LADY sat quietly in one of the

two comfortable chairs in front of the

desk of Howard Poffenberger, M.D.,

Ph.D. Her son sat in the other. Dr.

Poffenberger’s office was well appointed. The

furniture was oak where it wasn’t covered with

leather, and the mahogany-paneled walls were

thickly covered with framed academic degrees

and carefully unposed photographs of celebrities

and other important people.

“As I stated in my initial letter to you, Dr.

Poffenberger,” Kevin Biederbecke said, “my

mother is no longer happy at the leisure facility

where she now resides. To put it as plainly as I

can, the place simply hasn’t lived up to her

expectations. Promises have been broken and

guarantees violated — ”

“To say the least,” the old woman muttered.

“ — and she would like to leave there as

soon as possible. We’re investigating a number

of facilities in this area.”

“Well,” Dr. Poffenberger smiled. “We

would certainly be most glad to have Mrs.

Biederbecke — ”

“Ms. Biederbecke,” the old lady correctly

him.

“Of course, Ms. Biederbecke,” the doctor

said, “and, as I was saying, we at Glory Road

Estates would love to have you living with us. I

certainly feel that your mother would be most

happy here at Glory Road, Mr. Biederbecke.”

“You can talk to me directly, Doc,” Ms.

Biederbecke said. “I’m not senile.”

“Of course you aren’t,” the doctor said

quickly. “Do you have any questions, ma’am?”

“Let’s just see the joint,” Ms. Biederbecke

said briskly. “I haven’t got all day.” She put out

her arm. “Kevin, help me up, please, that’s a

dear.”

After inspecting several of the dormitory

rooms, the three walked down a series of

brightly lighted hallways to the public area. The

old lady’s bright eyes took in everything they

passed on the way, especially the many colorful

posters and leaflets taped to the light blue walls

of the corridor. Once in a while, she frowned as

she saw something she didn’t care for, and she

frowned more and more often as they

approached the common room. “I don’t see any

organization here at all,” she muttered.

“Chaotic, just chaotic.”

“Mr. Biederbecke,” Dr. Poffenberger said in

low tones, “your letter didn’t make clear exactly

why your mother wishes to leave Mount

Willow.”

Kevin shrugged. “She’s bored up there, pure

and simple,” he replied. “She might have put up

with the numerous contract violations on the

home’s part if she felt more involved, but most

days she just sits around without a chance to do

anything. She’s always been a very active

person, Doctor. She doesn’t want to lose her

edge. I don’t want her to, either.”

Dr. Poffenberger nodded. “Well, your

mother wouldn’t be bored around here, let me

tell you — ”

“What are you two mumbling about?” Ms.

Biederbecke called crossly. “C’mon, already.

Get a move on. I want to see the common

room.”

There were about thirty or forty old people

gathered in the common room. Several couples

were slow-dancing to classic rock ‘n roll tunes

that had remained popular since their first

release fifty years before and more. Others were

seated around tables playing games. Kevin

Biederbecke easily recognized Monopoly and

Challenge, but there were other groups playing

games that involved only oddly-shaped dice and

many pieces of paper.

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Brad Ferguson - The Forever Con

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