Political satire / flash fiction
Absent Resident
Old Joe has got loose, but can Emilio bring him back in?
Emilio ran through the French doors and scanned the empty garden. The resident had gone out. How could they let this happen?
Normally the night staff were very careful to ensure the outside doors were locked. The Rosa Salva retirement community guaranteed that a family’s elders would be safe and well looked after here. But this morning, the door was open and the room was empty.
Emilio didn’t want to raise the alarm until he checked the grounds. Someone’s job could be on the line here. Maybe his.
He jogged across the lawn to the back gate. It was locked, but in the border he saw the footprints of dress shoes. There was only one resident who’d wear dress shoes for a walk in the garden. Emilio followed the trail along the fence line.
This was Emilio’s first job in the States. He’d been out of work two years since arriving. No one was hiring Dominican architects, even with his qualifications and experience. Then he saw the advert for the Rosa Salva retirement community, urgently seeking shift workers. So he applied and pretty soon he was working here, chasing escaped oldies.
He didn’t mind it. He liked people — especially old Joseph. He was a character. He always had a kind word and a story. He cut an imposing figure, but he didn’t have a bad bone in his body. Apparently Joseph used to be a big deal, but Emilio didn’t pay attention to that stuff. Everyone was equal in Emilio’s view, whatever your background.
The fence line ended at the kitchen door. The staff had been prepping breakfast since 5am and a food delivery van was backing out the side — and that’s when Emilio saw Joseph.
He was standing at the curb, grinning at the delivery van and giving a thumbs-up as it reversed into the street. He was in his best blue suit, his collar open, and wearing his favourite sunglasses.
“Hey Joseph, what are you doing out here?”
“Oh, hi Emilio! Good morning! How’s your family?”
“They’re good, thank you. Why don’t we go inside, eh muchacho?”
Emilio needed him back in before Management found out he’d gotten out. But the old guy was stubborn.
“I’m waiting for my car,” Joseph told him.
“I don’t think you have a car booked…”
“They’re bringing it up from the garage. Sometimes takes ’em a minute.”
“The only place you’re going is the breakfast buffet. Come on, vamos.”
Emilio tried to take his arm, but the old man shrugged him off.
“Emilio, you’re a nice guy, but you’re dead wrong. I have a meeting with the National Security Council.”
“OK, sure. But do you want breakfast first?”
“I’m the President of the United States. I think I can decide if I want breakfast or not.”
“Sure you are, Joe. How about we just wait by the buffet?”
Thanks for reading!
My longer stories are now available to buy as eBooks, including the darkly hilarious horror story HEAD CASE and the outrageous feminist splatterpunk METAGOTH, featuring goth antiheroine Rosa Razor.
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