This morning, in my new place the family moved me to, I hear an old style telephone ringing. It rings and rings.
I cannot answer it, because it is the wall. A cream-colored featureless plastic wall.
I decide to take a walk.
"Gamps, ya gotta answer when I call you." my grandson says when he visits me.
"Hey pal, I don't know what your talking about."
"Gramps, I've been trying to get you to answer all morning."
"How so?"
My grandson touches the sleeve of his business suit, and we hear the telephone noise again.
"There it is." he says.
"Where is it?"
"There -- hear it!"
"Its a plastic wall."
"Exactly!"
"Why a wall?"
"Gramps -- everybody has one. Especially oldsters."
"Why?"
"You know, Gramps. You can't lose it. Plus 'I've fallen and I can't get up...'"
"Thanks kid."
"I love you, Grandpa" says my grandson, surreptitiously shining chat through his class ring into his eye.
We hug, he always hugs me when he goes, no matter how busy he is. I wave to him as he takes off from the roof. He's a good kid.
Later, the wall starts ringing again.
I decide to take a walk.
----
Rengszal Retirement Village
formerly Palo Alto, CA
August, 2055
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