Gus

2nd place in the "What A Character" Contest, SEP 2016.

Word Count: 787

Gus ambled down the hall. He leaned so much on his cane, the rubber tip which hit the floor, bulged.

A white shirt rushed past him. “You really need to use your walker, Mr. Arlington!”

“Humph.”

All the white shirts did was nag him. “Do this, Mr. Arlington. Do that, Mr. Arlington. Time to go here, time to go there, time for a pill.” They were worse than his wife, Desiree. Old Saint Peter must have decided Desi had spun one too many slot machines. She lined up three roses in a row and hit the jackpot on quarters. Twenty-Five Grand! She jumped up on her stool, did the Macarena and reached for a rum and coke. Then she kneeled over, had a heart attack and died.

Gus sighed. Desi was never much for cooking. They went out a lot.

Gus stopped at the doorway and peered into the TV room. Abby, Esther, and Viola sat around the table playing cards. The Golden Girls nagged each other on TV. Gus wrinkled his nose. Really? The Golden Girls? They were so 80’s.

A fly buzzed near his crusty, old ear. He swatted at it and moseyed on. Annoying little bug. Gus wanted to watch that show with Shatner, George Forman, and the Fonz where they go to China and raise hell, or something like that. Golden Girls. Humph.

Gus sniffed. He tried to go to China on Desi’s winnings with his pal, Eddie. See the world. check a box on the bucket list. Too bad he forgot to get a passport. Customs called his kids, Sara and Bill. They fetched him right up and dumped him here.

Gus took a peek into the dining room. The blue shirts were singing “Happy Birthday” to Agatha. What was so happy about having a birthday? The old bird hit 96 or was it 97? She was half blind and kept trying to knit beanies for the babies in the hospital. Only half her beanies ever turned out right.

Agatha puffed. The flame flickered. She huffed again and blue shirts blew it out for her.

“Too bad Gus isn’t here,” Agatha said.

“I tried to find him, but he didn’t take his walker. I sent Ellen to find him,” said a blue shirt. She cut a piece of cake and handed it to Agatha. The blue shirts fed everyone and gave out the medicine.

Agatha waved her bony finger. “Oh, do look for him! It’s his birthday, too.”

“We will.” One of the blue shirts smiled at Agatha.

Gus belched. No way! He hated his birthday! They were for babies and kids. He didn’t need no reminders of how old he was. Gus knew he wasn’t a spring chicken. Time to hightail it to the garden. He could sit down in the back of the rose bushes and pull weeds. He’d rather do that than eat cake any day.

Gus skulked down the main hall, avoiding a couple of white shirts. He dodged right and turned left. The garden door came into sight and he nearly sprinted for it.

“There you are, Mr. Arlington! I have your walker.”

He spun around. Ellen wore a white shirt. This one made a point of fussing over him every morning. He didn’t mind it so much because she always smelled like roses. Desi always smelled like roses and anyone who smelled that nice wasn’t such a bad person.

“I don’t need it.” He grumped.

“Your son and daughter are on their way.”

“Humph. I’d rather be pulling weeds.” Gus scratched his ear. “What are their names again?”

Ellen put her hands on her hips. “But it’s your birthday! They haven’t seen you in months.”

Time to charm her. He belched again and flashed her his pearly dentures. “Those roses need a good weeding. I trimmed them yesterday.”

Ellen opened her mouth and then closed her lips. Her artificial smile went poof. Gus chuckled to himself. Nothing like a little good old fashioned charm.

“You’ve visited those roses every day this week, haven’t you, Mr. Arlington?”

“I sure have. I’d hate for them to miss me.” He winked at her. “Those roses know I take good care of them.”

Ellen slowly nodded. She played with her fingers. She fidgeted, then sighed, and ran a hand over her long hair. It was enough to drive him nuts. C'Mon kid.

“Okay, Mr. Arlington, let’s go visit the roses. I’m sure they’d be happy to see you.”

He held out his arm and she took it. Pretty young thing was strong, too. He leaned on his cane and they hobbled out to the garden. Gus grinned, happy to avoid the fuss that was his birthday.