Page 83 of Meet Me on Greenwood

Gema grabbed my keys. "I’ll drive you."

I was stunned. "You can drive?"

She gave me a smirk. "All northern girls can drive."

It took her a minute to get used to the stick, but she picked it up quickly and drove towards the hospital. I was grateful. I wasn’t in a state to drive, and she’d recognized that.

After searching the grounds and talking with the staff, we still had no luck. As Gema drove slowly through the streets, I was certain people were starting to get curious about why she was driving my car, but I couldn’t make myself care about anything but finding Paul.

"Paul’s condition makes him crave normalcy," she said. "What places did he frequent before his cognition began to decline?"

I racked my brain, but I wasn’t coming up with much. "His home, of course, but it would take him more than a day to get there on foot. His property is near mine."

"We can go there once the sun goes down if that is where he is headed, but I have a feeling he will be searching for somewhere closer."

"Why do you think that?"

"My specialty," she said carefully. "I work with a lot of patients who struggle with what Paul has. We call it dementia."

"You mean senility?" he asked curiously. " When the arteries harden and affect the mind."

"His brain cells are dying. If it is Alzheimer’s disease, he will have plaques building on his neurons. It could also be neurofibrillary tangles, but the result is all the same. As you know, there is no cure," she said. "Sedation will make it progress faster. He needs familiarity."

"He has no one, especially after his wife—" I paused, and I could see Gema had the same thought. "His wife! The Oak Lawn cemetery."

"Tell me how to get there."

I kicked myself for not thinking of it sooner. The cemetery was a ten-minute walk from the hospital.

By the time we drove through the iron archway, the sun had started to set and most of the visitors were in the process of leaving. I didn’t know where Beth was buried, and I began to lose hope as we drove through the grounds with no sight of Paul.

"He’s not here," I said finally.

"I have a thought," Gema said. "Is this cemetery segregated? Is there a section where Negroes are buried?"

I was very familiar with that part of the cemetery. I used to visit it regularly to lay flowers on my mother’s grave, until I had her moved to my property. "Yes, but why would he be there?"

"Just a hunch. I don’t know why, but I feel like he might be there."

I directed her where to go. Even in the dark, I knew the area very well. "There!" I pointed. "Who is that?"

Gema stopped the car and I rushed out. A man crouched low between the gravestones, desperately searching through them.

"Paul?" I called.

He looked up, confused. Tears were running down his face. "I can’t find her. I’ve lost her."

"Beth?" I asked. "She’s here, but it is late. Let’s get some food in you and we will come back at first light."

"No! I have to find her. I have to apologize for leaving." His voice was frantic, as if what he was doing was the most important thing in the world.

"Paul…" I called again.

"Get back!" he yelled, waving wildly.

I held up my hand to show I was not a threat. "I’m just trying to help."

"Paul," Gema said, walking up beside me. The old man’s head snapped in her direction as if she was what he’d been searching for. "I’m here. You found me."