Chapter 2: 38 days
Midas completes his morning jog in record time. When he returns home, he consumes his usual breakfast and readies himself for the day. He plays some classic opera to brighten his mood. The music works. Midas turns the music off and heads out the door. The house door locks at the sound of his voice. He doesn’t wait long for the bus. As Midas climbs on, people recognize him, but no one talks to him. After taking a seat in the fifth row, he sits and thinks, an idea strikes him like a thunderbolt. He shakes from the revelation, but he shrugs it off as meaningless. It’s already been thought of, he thinks to himself. While the thought is fleeting, it lingers. The bus pulls to his stop. He gets off and realizes that he has spent the last hour ruminating. A large building stands in front of him.
The structure is large and intimidating. In bold letters, the façade reads St. Louis County Center for Retirement Services. People stream in and out, while he enters the building through a revolving door. The doctor heads for the reception desk, and the receptionist sends him to the second floor. He takes the stairs. There is no receptionist but a computer screen where he identifies himself. It tells him to go to room 208. The floor lights up and leads him to the room. Inside, a young woman waits. She is pretty with black curly hair and dark skin. Her brown eyes are difficult to avoid. Finally, she notices him and smiles a sweet little smile.
“Come in, Dr. Stanley. It is an honor to meet you. I love your work. I’m Michele, your retirement counselor.” She stands and waves toward the other chair in the room. “Please, sit down.”
Midas sits down, and she continues to speak.
“So, this is standard procedure. We’re just going to talk about how you’re handling your impending retirement. Some handle it better than others. Few are ready, and many find themselves in a state of depression. How you feeling about all of this?”
“Ready. My wife died last year from cancer, and I miss her. Not only that, I feel that I’ve accomplished everything I will accomplish. I have two wonderful children, and my work has been significant.”
“Yes, it has. With so many accomplishments, I guess many are wondering why you didn’t apply for exemption. Why didn’t you?” She asks, almost hurt.
“I had this conversation with my son. I’m ready. It’s my time, and there is something comforting about knowing when I’m going to die. I can die happy.”
She doesn’t argue against him and marks a piece of paper. “You still could apply. It’s not too late. You have until a week before your 66th.”
“Miss, that’s not going to happen, but thanks for informing me of that fact.” Midas says with a smile.
“Okay, well, I am supposed to help you with any crises or even minor problems.”
“There aren’t any, Michele. I believe that everything is in order.”
“There are no problems with your will or your house.”
“Well, I haven’t found anyone to take my cat, but that shouldn’t be an issue.”
“Okay, ummm, well, that’s about it for us. Do you have any questions for me?”
“You like my work? Have you read my books?”
“Yes, all four of them.”
“Did you pay for them? I hope not. That’s a waste of money when you could get them from the library.”
“Actually, I did.” She laughs. “I wanted to have them available. Why shouldn’t I have bought them?”
“It’s okay that you did. I guess I’m a little self-deprecating. I know people like them as well as my research articles. Personally, I like them too, but I’m supposed to be humble. I do think I’ve been given a little too much credit. And, honestly, I would rather people gain the knowledge or think about my ideas instead of lining my pockets.”
“Oh, yes. I’ve thought about your work a lot.”
“Excellent.”
She looks at her clock. “Shoot...I’m sorry. I have another appointment. It was a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Stanley.”
“It was also a pleasure to meet you.” He shakes her hand and smiles at her one more time before leaving.
“Oh, here.” Michele hands him a yellow slip. “You don’t need to see me again.”
The statement seems to sting her.
“You were hoping I was having trouble with this, weren’t you?”
“Kind of.” He rips up the slip.
“Give me the pink one. I’ll see you in a week. You never know, something might come up.”
“No, that’s a waste of resources.” She looks at him but hesitates for a second. Michele gives in. “Okay.”
Midas takes the slip and heads out the door. Arrows point back toward the original computer. He inserts the pink slip and it prints out a blue slip with another appointment time. After heading downstairs and leaving the building, he waits for a moment on the curb where another bus picks him up. It is almost empty. He chooses an empty seat towards the back and begins to ponder. The ride passes quickly, and, soon enough, he’s back to his house. Thoughts continue to percolate in his head, and he feels the need to get them on paper. In a hurried fashion, he rushes to his front door, but, on his step sits a young man. They have had many conversations over the past weeks, but, today, he stumbles upon him and nearly runs over him.
“Mr. McIntosh, how are you, today?”
“Excellent, sir. Are you in a hurry?”
“Well, I wanted to write, but we can talk.”
“Oh, no, I don’t want to intrude. You look like you’re busy.”
“It can wait. Come on in.”
Midas opens the door, and they both enter the home. Like normal, they sit down at the table. This time they enjoy a meal. The doctor eats incredibly fast as the boy takes his time.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“Yeah, it’s good.” He answers without looking at the doctor.
“What’s on your mind, Jim?”
“I…uh…I was wondering about the future. I mean what do you think is going to happen in the future? Do you ever think the retirement legislation will ever be repealed? It’s just that I don’t want to die at 66.”
“That’s a long time from now. The laws may change by then. Personally, I am very hopeful about the future. The world will continue to improve, and there are many exciting events that you will see. When you reach my age, you may change your mind about death.”
“We’ve fixed the major problems, so I’ve been told. Why do we still have this? It doesn’t make any sense. Why not increase exemption, and why didn’t you apply for exemption?”
“Jim, we’ve been through this. It’s just my time. I suppose they could increase exemption rates, but this is the way it is. Is there something else here? This is the third time you’ve asked this.”
The boy starts to cry. “My dad died six years ago. I don’t to lose someone else that I care about.”
“You never told me that, Jim. I’m sorry. Part of life is death. Everything dies, eventually.”
“It never came up. We always talked about theoretical stuff. I wouldn’t normally react like this, but…I mean…I thought we’ve become close.”
“Yeah, we have.” He leans over and hugs the boy. “No one lives forever and at least you know how long I’ll be around.”
“I think that makes it worse. A grieving process that lasts for months or years isn’t easier on the people who live.”
This statement causes the doctor to pause for a moment. It is true, and it makes him sad. Not applying for exemption must be heartbreaking to those who care about you, he thinks to himself. Then, it clicks. He adds something to his idea. After a few seconds, he releases Jim.
“Jim, I’m sorry, and this is rude, but I have to ask you to go home. I have some writing to do.”
“What?! You’re kicking me out. Did I do something wrong?”
“No, no, but there is something I have to get down before it scurries away. Please, I just need a day. I wouldn’t have thought of it without you.”
 
; The young man stands with reluctance. He is too stunned to continue crying. He crosses his arms, but Jim complies and leaves the house. The doctor watches him step onto the bus. Midas buries his face in his hands. This is what he did with Caleb and Amanda too, yet he needs the time. Midas races to his office. It has barely been used in half a decade. Dust covers everything, but he sits in the office chair and switches his computer on. It starts in a few seconds. He pulls up a writing program and begins to talk. Words appear on the screen as he continues to ramble on. This continues for hours and hours until hunger strikes him, but he ignores it and continues. The hours burn away until he releases that the sun is rising. Still, he doesn’t eat or sleep. Pages upon pages later, the doctor is still not even close to finished. He won’t leave his office until he has a first draft. The doctor continues for another 13 hours until he is finally finished with a first draft. Midas looks at his first draft. After saving it, he wanders to the bedroom and sleeps.
The doorbell rings and stirs him, and he stands with effort to answer the door. The ringing continues.
“Ok, Jim. I’m coming.”
The ringing does not stop. His cat meows. He opens the door, but doesn’t look at who it is. Midas heads into the kitchen where he finds some food for his cat. He places it on the floor, and the cat eats it. When he turns around, Michele is standing there.
“Hi.”
“Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I can’t have you come back for another appointment. I canceled it. It was inappropriate on my part.”
“It’s okay. People who know who I am tend to want to chat with me. I appreciate it. However, they don’t usually show up at my house without being invited.”
“Sorry…can we chat?” She asks meekly.
“I am expecting a friend, but I suppose we could chat for a few minutes.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Well, you would have sent an e-mail if that were the case. I haven’t eaten in a while. Low blood sugar makes me grumpy. Are you hungry? Did you like pizza?”
She nods before she sits down at the table. Midas asks Boris for a pizza made with pepperoni, sausage, onion, and mushrooms. It takes a couple of minutes to cook.
“Do you want something to drink?” Midas asks.
Michelle nods as Midas goes to the refrigerator and pulls out a couple of beers. As he glances back at the woman, he notices that she is wearing a tight, low cut shirt and a short skirt that shows off her legs. Heels finish the ensemble. Her beauty is enhanced by makeup, but it is subtle. Midas reconsiders her actual intent this night. Midas debates the ethics of the situation. The thought of his wife makes him feel guilty, but she would want him to enjoy life. She even told him so herself before dying. Maybe it’s time for some joy in his life, he thinks to himself. However, just to make sure of her intentions, he takes the direct approach.
“Were you hoping to have sex with me tonight?” A stunned look crosses her face, and she looks down.
“Yes, is it that obvious?”
“No, not obvious. Would this be like a one-time deal?”
“No, I guess I didn’t know what I wanted. I was lonely. I am lonely. I don’t have many friends. My husband left me four years ago when he found out I was sterile. You were…nice to me, so nice. I know you’re kind of a celebrity, but you’re not some notch on my belt. The last man I was with was my husband.” She pauses again. “Maybe I should go?”
“No, please, sit back down. Let’s eat and talk. Then, we can move forward if we want to. If not, there’s no harm, no foul.”
Michele sits back down, and Midas brings her a beer while he drinks a beer. They chat about many things, but she, like everyone else, mentions exemption to him. He gives the usual response which doesn’t seem to lessen the pain of it. However, this woman asks another question.
“Have you ever thought about running?”
“Running from retirement? Why would I do that?”
“Some do.”
“Strange, must be afraid.”
“If another country accepts them, they can stay.”
“What’s the catch?”
“They can’t come back to the US. I think a lot of people don’t tell their families that they’re still alive.”
“That seems cruel.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Does this actually happen?”
“Yes, it’s rare. I’m just saying there are options.”
The doctor looks at his watch. Hours have passed, and it appears that Jim will not show up. Michele smiles at him as he stands.
“I don’t think my friend is going to show. Would you like to see my bedroom?”
“Yes.”
She stands and heads into the bedroom. He follows her, closes the door, and she wraps her arms around his neck and starts kissing me. Midas pulls back.
“How old are you?”
“32.”
“I’m twice your age.”
“That’s okay by me.”
Midas starts kissing her again and moves toward the bed. They sit on the bed, and she pulls down to the bed until they are lying next to each other. Images start flashing through Midas’ mind of wife lying in a bed. He holds her hand. He kisses her head. Tears start to flow down his cheeks. Midas pulls away.
“What’s wrong?” She asks.
“I don’t think I can do this. I thought I could. It’s not you, all I can think of is my wife. I’m sorry Michelle.”
Michelle stands up.
“I knew this was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.”
She straightens her clothes and races out of the bedroom. He doesn’t chase after her. Midas feels like a jerk, but he told her the truth. The door slams. Midas wipes the tears from his face and lies down until he falls asleep. When he wakes up in the morning, he goes for his normal run and eats breakfast. Midas plays with and pets his cat. He heads to his office, but his cat follows him. He sits down and the feline hops on his lap. While continuing to work, he pets her as she purrs in appreciation. He is close to finishing the new paper, but something is still missing. He will not solve the problem for four weeks.