Strangler

He was demented like my father but unlike my father, always wore a pair of black leather gloves.  It was too warm indoors for his hands to be cold, yet he seemed to be gloved twenty-four hours a day.

I called him the Beacon Pointe Strangler.

Everyone at Beacon Pointe was odd because they all had dementia or Alzheimer’s.  But this man was the only one who made me nervous.  He kept his arms stiff and straight at his sides, gloved fingers stretched wide apart.

Oh…and he always wore a lanyard looped around his neck.  Nothing attached to it.  Just a lanyard.

He rarely talked, but typically stood and stared at people.

One morning, I was visiting with my dad while he ate breakfast.  I sensed someone close behind me and turned to find the Strangler, mere inches from my back.  I hurriedly finished my conversation, telling Dad that I needed to get to work.  As I turned to leave, the man shadowing me said, “Where are we going?”

He actually spoke!

I said, “I’m going to work…but you’re staying here.”

He followed me to the exit door where his presence made me so nervous, I couldn’t remember the security code.  I rushed back to the dining area to get it from one of the aides, the Strangler close on my heels.  When I returned to the exit, he was still on me like a tick.  I told him again that he was staying as I punched in the number and slipped through the door.

I don’t know how he managed to be old and quick at the same time, but he got all of his fingers wrapped around, not my neck, but the edge of the door, trying to pull it open.  I repeatedly said, “No!” as I peeled off his fingers, one at a time, feeling like a young mother dealing with a very determined two-year-old, instead of an old woman dealing with an even older dementia patient.

I finally got the door closed, with him on the other side.  I stood a few moments, breathing sighs of relief, but also listening for sounds from behind the door.  Would he yell or cry?  I didn’t hear a thing, which made me suspect that he probably forgot about me the minute I was out of sight.  One of the few benefits of Alzheimer’s.

The aides told me later that I resembled the man’s wife, so it’s not surprising he thought I was there for him.  And based on his bizarre behavior, she was probably more than happy to have someone take her place.

Those gloved hands had to be frightening…even to her.