FLASHBACK by Gary Braver Read Free Book Online

inside. The man looked up at her blankly.
    “Hi, my name is René.”
    The man said nothing.
    “I like your hat.” The man still did not respond, but he kept staring at her. “And what is your name?”
    Still no answer. On the bureau behind him were several framed photographs with labels. One colored shot, presumably of his wife and daughter, was labeled “Marie and Christine.” Another showed the same woman Christine
with a young boy named “Steven,” probably the man’s grandson. Beside them was a large blowup in black-and-white showing two young men posing in army fatigues and helmets. Each was holding a weapon. The label under the photo read: “Louis Martinetti and Sam Swenson, 187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team, Hill 329, Sukchon, Korea, October 1950.” A gold star was pasted under one young man—a black-haired slender kid with the same eyes as the elderly man she was addressing.
    “Are you Louis Martinetti?”
    He looked at her with shock. “You’re Fuzzy Swenson’s sister.”
    “Who?”
    “Fuzzy Swenson.”
    René looked back at the black-and-white blowup. “There’s a Sam Swenson in the photograph of you. Is that who you mean?”
    He squinted at her to sharpen his focus. “You his sister, um … Rita?”
    René stepped closer so he could see her better. “No, my name is René Ballard. I’m the consulting pharmacist here.” She wasn’t sure he understood but she put out her hand.
    He did not take her hand but stared at her until he was convinced that she was not who he thought. “Just as well … what they did to him.” He winced as something sharp passed through his mind.
    She would have liked to talk, curious about Fuzzy Swenson and hoping to bring Louis out more. But Alice was standing in the doorway staring at her through hard eyes.
    “Nice to meet you, Mr. Martinetti,” René said. As she turned to leave, she noticed that on the bed was an army uniform neatly pressed and still on hangers. She stepped out of the room and looked at Alice who just glared at her. René flashed her a smile and said, “Well, see you tomorrow.”
    Alice did not respond, but René could still feel the press of her gaze as she made her way down the hall to the exit.
    She passed down the stairs and out into the parking lot to her car. According to the road atlas, Dudley, New Hampshire, was about an hour north of here. She had the day off and it was a beautiful late August morning and maybe during the ride things might start making sense to her.
    Especially why she had counted four more patients on the Alzheimer’s disease unit than were listed on her census.

7
    “MRS. CASSANDRA GOULD? MY NAME IS RENÉ Ballard. I called you from the road.”
    “Yes, yes, I remember,” the woman said through the screen door. “I’m not the one with dementia. At least not yet. Come in, please.”
    René followed her into a living room, which was furnished in floral Queen Anne wing chairs and sofa.
    “And it’s Cassie,” the woman demanded. “Who in their right mind would want to be named after a woman who prophesied doom while nobody listened.” She gestured for René to sit in a chair. “You’re here because of what my sister did, no doubt, so you’ll probably need a coffee, unless you prefer something stronger.”
    “No, water would be fine, thank you.”
    “Well, I’m having coffee. The only way to get my heart going in the morning. Still want the water?”
    “I’ve already had three cups. Any more and I’ll need a straitjacket.”
    Cassie smiled. “A pharmacist with a sense of humor. Now there’s a rare duck.” And she left for the drinks.
    Rare duck. C’est moi, she thought, the new girl, and now Ms. Popularity at your local nursing home. René strolled to the back wall, which consisted of built-in shelves full of books. Clearly Mrs. Gould was a well-read woman. Most of the books were hardback novels, including classics—Tolstoi, Steinbeck, Dickens, the Brontë sisters, Iris Murdoch—as well as