The Decay
By Sierra Simopoulos
The waiting room had the familiar smell of too much hand sanitizer. Benjamin studied the cover of a curled magazine promising “30 New Positions to Heat Up Your Sex Life” before letting his attention wander to the secretary who incessantly beat her pen against the counter while staring at her papers.
“Soltz, Benjamin!”
He started at the sound of his name. Gripping his cane, he made his way up to the glass box.
“Mr. Soltz?” the woman asked without glancing up from her papers.
“That’s right.”
“Says here you need to refill a prescription?”
Benjamin nodded, fumbling to get the pill bottle from his pocket before finally placing it on the counter.
“Some morphine and whiskey is what I really need, but I guess this will do.” He smiled weakly.
The woman didn’t smile. She continued to stare at her papers.
“It says here that you’ve reached your allotted drug limit for the month.”
Benjamin looked up, confused. “That’s never been an issue before.”
“The government just passed a new bill that it will only cover the first hundred dollars for citizens over sixty-five. Don’t you watch the news? Anyways, you’ll have to pay for it if you want me to refill this.”
Benjamin reached for his wallet. “How much will it be?”
“Seventy-two dollars, ten cents.”
“Oh.” He slowly returned his wallet to his pocket. “I guess maybe I’ll just buy some of that whiskey instead.” He tried to smile, but only managed to pull his lips into a tight line.
The woman finally looked up. “Maybe take a look at some of your options, Mr. Soltz? For your sake and that of your loved ones.” She gave a practiced smile and slid a pamphlet across the counter. “Zhu, Alice!”
Benjamin stuffed the pamphlet into his pocket and left the clinic. He walked down the mall concourse towards the subway with careful, shuffling steps. Around him, screens flashed from store windows. A screen showing an image of two women with perfect faces laughing together told him Our NEW SPRING LINE is here. A lingerie ad displayed two people pressed against each other, emblazoned with the words, Live while you’re young. As he got nearer, the faint light of the facial scanner flashed in his eyes. The lingerie ad blinked and changed to an ad for Kingford Whiskey.
***
Benjamin lowered himself onto his living room couch in his small flat. His daughter Ania hated its ornate green and purple swirls, but he had picked it out with Felicity in their first year of marriage and he couldn’t bring himself to throw it out.
He sat there for several minutes, watching the hand of the wall clock tick slow laps. He glanced at the TV remote, but the thought of cheery program hosts and never-ending advertisements felt overwhelming. Instead, he got up and made his way across the living room to the liquor cabinet. Moving aside empty bottles, he found one that had something left in it and poured the remainder into a glass on the end table. He lowered himself back onto the couch and took a sip. It was the kind of whiskey they sold at the convenience store, the kind that burned and smelled like burnt leather.
He looked at the picture of Ania that sat on the end table. She was grinning out from under a graduation cap. She looked happy here, happier than he had seen her in years. This had been the year before Felicity died. He remembered teaching Ania to climb the pear trees he and Felicity had planted in their backyard. He thought of the three of them hunting for worms together at Finn’s Golf Course before their weekend fishing trips. A swelling pain rose in Benjamin’s chest and his nose tickled unpleasantly. He chased the feeling away with another swig of whiskey.
His back began to throb from not taking his pain medication, and he reached instinctively into his jacket pocket for his pill bottle. Instead of the bottle, he found a crumpled piece of paper. He pulled it out, confused, and then remembered the pamphlet the woman at the clinic had given him. He smoothed it out.
Let us help you transition from this life well. The picture showed a young man and woman standing beside the bed of an elderly woman who looked like she was sleeping. The young people had big, perfect smiles.
He turned the pamphlet over. You’ve lived an abundant life. Now it’s time to pass the baton to the next generation. Our compassionate staff are here to make your last moments meaningful and comfortable. Medically-aided Cessation is a compassionate choice. Consider your options.
Benjamin’s hands shook as he stared at the pamphlet. Medically-aided Cessation. It was one of those topics that everyone thought about at some point when they were sitting alone and an ad for it popped up on TV, but of course it did not come up in polite conversation. Certainly, it was touched by conversation, “My aunt went to get put to rest this weekend” or “Toby’s father is planning his going away party,” but it was never talked about. Everyone knew people who had undergone the procedure. A few years before Benjamin had retired from Myers Construction, Francis, one of Benjamin’s long-time coworkers, had not shown up for his Monday shift. It had been whispered, but never announced, that he had undergone the MAC procedure. He was a private man. He didn’t like to make a big deal about these kinds of things. It was good that he should be at rest, after all. He had been a hardworking man, but now that his sight had been failing, what did he have left to live for? Continuing on would have been misery for him, the whispers had said.
Consider your options. His eyes lingered on these words.
At the bottom of the pamphlet, there was a phone number in large print. Benjamin glanced over to where his old telephone sat on the end table, covered in a layer of dust. He took another drink of whiskey.
Slowly, he reached for the receiver and dialed.
A cheerful woman’s voice answered.
“Good afternoon. This is the National Institute of Life Care, Medically-Aided Cessation Branch. Could I get your name and citizen code?”
“Benjamin Soltz, 5N268FJ1.”
“Are you calling to book an appointment?”
“I… well… I was just wondering… at what point in life do people usually make an appointment?”
“Well, it really varies from individual to individual. Most feel that when they can no longer live the life they want, it is the best option for them.” There was a pause. “Are you considering the procedure?”
“I, uh…” Benjamin jammed the receiver back on its hook and stuffed the pamphlet into the coffee table drawer out of sight.
***
Ania had given Benjamin a new watch a few months ago. She had shown him how to scroll on it to do all sorts of things: listen to music, use the calculator, look at pictures. He didn’t remember how to do any of that now. He just wanted to make a phone call. Ania had said that she had saved her new phone number on the watch somewhere. He flipped through all the screens, squinting at the little glowing symbols, but didn’t see anything that looked like a phone number. He scrolled through all the screens again and even tried clicking on one of the symbols, but it just opened another complex screen with some sort of graph on it. He exhaled heavily and got up from his kitchen table, piling his plate from breakfast on the others beside the sink.
He sank onto the couch and flipped the TV on. He didn’t really watch, but it was good to be surrounded by the sound of other people’s voices. Suddenly, his old telephone rang. Ania. He snapped off the TV and sent the remote skidding across the coffee table as he scrambled to grab the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this Mr. Soltz?” Disappointment flooded Benjamin. It was a woman, but not Ania.
“Yes,” he said. “Who’s this?”
“Mr. Soltz, I’m calling from the National Institute of Life Care. We saw that you inquired about the MAC procedure, and I just wanted to see if you had any further questions about it.”
Benjamin felt a pang of panic.
“N-no. No questions.”
There was a brief pause. “Well, we are always here if you do.”
“Well, j-just one question, actually…” Benjamin thought of Ania and felt his eyes grow wet. “Do people who get the procedure usually still have family?”
“Yes, quite often they do,” the woman said. “Many feel that when they can no longer contribute to society or to their family this is the best option for them.”
“What makes most people feel that they can no longer contribute?”
“Oh—well—there are different factors for different people. Being unable to contribute financially or posing difficulties of care on their loved ones. It’s something everyone has to weigh for themselves.”
“How do family members usually respond?”
“Well, many people decide not to tell their family members to prevent them from having to feel the guilt of agreeing with the decision. But others have family members who are supportive.”
“I see. Thank you. G-goodbye.”
“You have a good day, Mr. Soltz. Feel free to call if you have any further questions.” There was a sharp click.
Benjamin stared at the receiver in his hand for a long time.
***
The doctor said that Benjamin’s morning walks were an important part of his overall health and wellness. Benjamin’s lower back throbbed with every step and he leaned heavily on his cane. He’d gone through the bottle of subsidized painkillers before the end of the month again, even though he’d tried to spread out the dosage more than usual. As he made his way laboriously down the sidewalk, he was startled by a buzzing from his watch. He pressed repeatedly on the glowing screen.
“Ania? Ania?”
“Dad?” His daughter’s voice sounded distorted.
“Dad, you’re muting it. Stop pressing the screen. You only have to press it once. Listen, I’m going to stop by your place in twenty minutes.”
“Sure, sweetheart.” There was an electronic bloop and the call disconnected. “Ania? Damn thing!”
It had been months since he had seen her. His mood lifted and even his backache seemed to lessen.
He stopped at one of the fruit stands, where a lady he often bought from was resting under an umbrella. Ania had always loved pears.
“How are you, Helen?”
“Oh, you know, getting by. My little tike just learned how to crawl. He’s been making a real mess of the house.”
“Oh? How old is he now?”
“Ten months. The little menace. He managed to pull all my baking supplies off the bottom shelf of the pantry yesterday. Spilled the cocoa powder everywhere!”
Benjamin cracked a small smile, peering over his thick spectacles at the fruit prices. He raised his eyebrows.
“Why are these so darned expensive?” he said, nodding to a tray of golden yellow pears.
“Ben, don’t you give me a hard time.” She shook a finger at him. “They’re organic. And rare to find, mind you. Almost all the fruit these days comes from the vertical farms. But there are always those rich blighters who are asking for the organic stuff. It was a real pain to find a farmer willing to ship here.”
“Are they any better?”
“Oh yeah. They’re delicious—sweet and juicy to the core. I’d eat them all the time if it wouldn’t break the bank.”
“I’ll take one. Do you mind wrapping it up for me? I don’t want it to bruise. It’s for my daughter.”
Helen obliged, and Benjamin smiled as he tucked pear in its brown-paper wrapping carefully into his jacket pocket.
***
Benjamin moved around his flat as quickly as his rheumatism would allow, putting dishes in the sink and throwing a blanket over the couch to cover its old pattern. He opened the window, hoping the fresh air would make the place more appealing and hide the smell of stale whiskey. His watch suddenly vibrated again.
“Dad, I’m here.”
He tried to press the watch face to respond when there was a knock on the door.
“Come on in,” he called as his daughter pushed the door open.
“Why did you buy me this thing?” he asked, pressing on the watch in irritation.
Ania laughed. “You never used the phone I bought you. Besides, this is what everyone has now.” She was wearing a small black dress that her mother would never have approved of and was carrying two bags of groceries.
“Well, come on in. Have a seat.” She smiled as he gave her a one-armed hug around the groceries before seating himself on the couch. “How’s the new job? Do you like being an immigration— whatcha call it?”
“An immigration case analyst. It’s been really good.”
“You know, I helped build the Kay Building just a block over from where you work. Can you see it from your office?”
“No, I’m on the west side.”
“Oh. I was the project manager on that job, you know.”
“Yeah,” she gave a small smile, “you’ve mentioned it. Dad, I can’t stay long, but I was in the area and I thought I should come by and make sure you were taking care of yourself and bring you some food.” She set the bags of groceries on his kitchen floor and began unloading them into the fridge. Chicken, lettuce, tomatoes, a bag of pears. The pear in his pocket suddenly felt like a foolish gift. She had a good government job, while he was living off the pittance his pension gave him. She could buy herself organic pears whenever she wanted.
“I thought you were going to stay and talk awhile.”
“Oh, Dad, you know I’d want to if I could. But some of my old university friends are in town, and I’m going to take them out.”
“Oh, I was wondering why you were wearing that.” He waved at her dress.
“Well, I can’t let these good looks you and mom gave me go to waste.” She flipped her long hair over her shoulder and flashed him a joking smile.
Her watch began to ring. “Dammit! Lane is calling. I gotta run, Dad.” She kissed him on the cheek and headed for the door as she answered the ringing machine. “Lane, I’m so sorry! I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just meet me in the parking—” Her voice was cut off as the door closed behind her.
A jolt of pain went through Benjamin at the sharp sound of the door clicking shut. He leaned against the back of the couch. For some reason, his heart was beating fast. There was a tight feeling in his chest, but his eyes were dry.
Abruptly, he got up and headed for the liquor cabinet. He shoved bottles to the side, digging right to the back corners, but all of them were empty. He cursed, knocking over bottles as he withdrew his shaking hands.
His mind flicked to the coffee table drawer. He’d kept the thought of its contents forcibly out of his mind, but it lingered constantly at the edge of his subconscious.
He slowly opened the drawer and pulled out the pamphlet. He read it again. Then, he dialed the big number.
“National Institute of Life Care, Medically-Aided Cessation Branch.” It was a man’s voice this time. “What is your name and citizen code?” Benjamin gave them.
“Our records show that you’ve called about an appointment before?”
“I…yes. Yes, a little while ago. I was just wondering… about the procedure… how does it work?”
“Well, once you book a date, we’ll have you come in to the clinic here. We’ll go over any important last wishes and legal matters, so you’ll want to make sure you bring any necessary documentation. We take care of all that with our in-clinic lawyers to make sure everything is as simple as possible for the client. Our staff will be here with you the whole time to make your last moments meaningful and comfortable. The procedure itself is straightforward and entirely painless.” He paused. “Did you have any other questions about it?”
Benjamin didn’t respond. A few months ago, he had decided to surprise Ania at her home. He had picked through all the flowers in the grocery store to find the best ones and even splurged on some wine with a fancy French label. Finding her place had been difficult. That side of the city had changed so much over the years and he had started to become nervous that the faded piece of paper with her address referred to a building that wasn’t there anymore. But finally, he had found it, feeling rather pleased with himself. A man had opened the door, squinting and rubbing his eyes.
“What’d ya want, man?” His breath smelled of liquor.
“I was just stopping by to visit my daughter.” Benjamin straightened up. The other man blinked at him stupidly.
“Ania? She’s out.”
“When will she be back?”
“She’s a busy woman. Probably not until late tonight,” said the man. Benjamin’s shoulders slumped.
“Would you give her these for me?” He held out the flowers and wine.
“Sure, man, sure.” The man took them and closed the door. Benjamin had hoped Ania would call him when she got home and saw that he’d been there. But even though he stayed awake later than usual, he didn’t hear from her.
“We have an availability this afternoon you could come in for.”
“Oh… I… I was thinking maybe a few weeks from now?”
“It is of course your choice, but we highly recommend the procedure as soon as possible after the decision is made—it help avoid any unnecessary stress or pain. Let me know what you prefer.”
There was a long pause.
“Are you still there, Mr. Soltz?”
Benjamin remembered Ania at six or seven, smiling down at him proudly from where she had climbed up on the roof by scaling one of the trees in the backyard. Felicity had been nearly hysterical, but Benjamin had laughed, calling her his little squirrel. She had been so pleased with herself until she tried to climb back down. Suddenly, she had burst into tears, kicking her legs as she held onto the roof and struggled for purchase with her feet. Benjamin had been up the tree in an instant, catching her legs and drawing her to the trunk.
Tears began to roll down his cheeks. He thought of her as she had been this afternoon, rushing out to meet people he had never heard of. She had moved on from the back garden to a world of glass office buildings, a world where she didn’t need him.
“Mr. Soltz? I can book you in for six o’clock if you’d like.”
“Six o’clock would be fine.”
***
Benjamin had to take the subway all the way downtown to get to the clinic. Every time the subway stopped, he gripped his cane shakily with both hands. A woman got up from her seat a short way down the car. Benjamin shuffled carefully in that direction. A teen blaring music through his headphones slid into the seat.
***
The glass doors moved smoothly to the side as Benjamin entered the clinic. A bright-eyed woman who stood just inside directed him to the palm scanner. The blue light under his hand flashed and the woman checked her tablet.
“Ah yes. I see you have an appointment for 6:00, Mr. Soltz?” Benjamin nodded. “Right this way, please.”
She led him to a room with a large, four-poster bed, a small wooden desk, and a manicured tree in the corner.
“If you will just wait here, Doctors Emerson and Schneider will be with you shortly. Feel free to make yourself comfortable.”
Benjamin sat on the edge of the bed. It smelled vaguely of lavender.
The door opened and a man and woman entered.
“Mr. Soltz? Pleased to meet you,” said the man, smiling and extending his hand. It was warm and firm. “I’m Dr. Emerson and this is my colleague, Dr. Schneider.” A woman with very red fingernails took his hand. “We are here to discuss your transition from this life,” continued the man. “First of all, do you have any questions for us?”
“Um. I—I want to tell my daughter. But I don’t know how.”
“Mr. Soltz,” said the woman, “Sometimes the best thing we can do for someone we love is to free them from the weight of having to choose. Many people’s family members feel the obligation to try to dissuade someone from making this choice, even if they know it’s best. We recommend, though this is of course your choice, that you make this decision on your own so that your daughter doesn’t have to carry the weight of worrying that she made the wrong decision after you’re gone.”
Ania would try to stop him. Benjamin knew it. His heart lightened at the thought. But it quickly plummeted again. She’d put him in some expensive home, and he’d be even more of a burden on her.
“Many patients write a letter,” the woman suggested, “for after they are gone.”
Benjamin nodded.
“Yes, I’d like that.”
The woman took out a stack of thick paper and a pen. “We know this can be an emotional time, so we’ll leave you alone to have some time to write. Just press the button on the wall when you are finished.” She set the materials on the desk, and the two doctors left the room.
Benjamin picked up the pen and started to write in his slow, careful hand.
Dear Ania,
He paused, trying to process what he could say.
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this decision before it happened. I didn’t want it to weigh on you. I know you would have taken care of me, but I didn’t want to be a burden to you. I don’t want you to feel bad now. I want you to live your life to the fullest. I’m going to have them leave you everything. It’s not much, but with the money from the flat hopefully you can buy your own place and be more secure than your mother and I were when we started out. I love you so much and I’m so proud of you.
All my love,
Dad
He read it again and his eyes teared up in frustration. It felt flat and inadequate. It didn’t say all the things he felt at all. But he didn’t know how to say it any better. He set it down on the desk before pushing the button on the wall.
The male doctor re-emerged almost instantly with another man who he introduced as the in-clinic lawyer.
The legal proceedings were quite quick. Benjamin told him everything was to go to Ania and signed the places he needed to. Benjamin was then left alone again for a few minutes and moved back to the bed, shifting around as he sat on the edge. Finally, the male and female doctor came back.
“Everything seems to be in order,” said the man. “Now, we also want to thank you for considering the future of our nation with this decision, Mr. Soltz. It’s important that all citizens think about how their lives fit into the rest of society. With limited funding for medical care, this decision could allow a young child to have the resources to have the lifesaving operation that they need. You are a hero, Mr. Soltz. As a gesture of our gratitude for your decision, the government will cover all the expenses for this procedure and the funeral and will also plant a tree in your name.”
“Would you like to choose your tree, Mr. Soltz?” asked the woman, holding out a brochure.
Benjamin looked up. “Maybe a pear tree?”
The woman’s smile faltered for a split second. “I’m sorry, Mr. Soltz. That isn’t one of the options that we have on hand. How about we plant a nice poplar for you?” She pointed at the glossy picture with one of her red nails.
“Oh… That would be alright.”
“Mr. Soltz, I’m going to ask you to lie back here on the bed and relax,” said the man, pressing gently on Benjamin’s shoulder. The bed was overwhelmingly soft. The duvet was going to swallow him. Panic began to rise. He would never see Ania again.
“You are doing the right thing.” The woman looked down at him with that perfect smile. “This will help you relax.” She covered his nose and mouth with a mask. His vision blurred.
He had to see Ania again. He had to hug her one last time.
He felt a sharp prick in his arm. A moment of terror filled him. It died away quickly.
***
The mortician unzipped the bag to remove personal effects and clothing from the body before cremation. He placed the wallet and keys in a demarcated container. While removing the man’s jacket, he noticed a strange lump in the coat pocket and pulled out a bruised pear wrapped in brown paper. He dropped it into the trash bin.
***