Free Chain of Fools by Richard Stevenson Page A

wide hallway and into a book-lined study, where Janet shut the door. The oak library table in the center of the room was heaped with books, as was the old leather swivel chair behind it. It looked as if some sorting out of Tom Osborne's library had commenced some years earlier but had not gotten far. The oil portrait over the fireplace of a man in a turn-of-the-century man-of-parts getup appeared to be the Herald's founder, Daniel Lincoln Osborne. Below the painting, faded family photographs were propped on the mantel, with Tom, Ruth, and the five children at different ages and in various poses, most of them in wilderness settings. Also on the mantel was a bronze urn with a lid on it. An inscription had been typed on a sliver of paper and taped to the urn. It read: William T. "Tom" Osborne— 1911-1989.
    Janet said to Elsie, "How long has she been like this?"
    "Since yesterday morning," Elsie said, looking frightened. "I was going to call you today if she didn't snap out of it. June called this morning and said she'd be stopping in, but I was going to call you anyway." Elsie and Janet exchanged significant looks.
    "And she was like this just now when June was here?" Janet asked. When Elsie nodded, Janet said, "Oh, God." To me, Janet said, "For a couple of years now there's been short-term memory loss, and she's gone blank on occasion—just sort of zombied out for five- and ten-minute periods. But nothing this long lasting."
    "Mrs. Osborne was always a talker," Elsie said. "She had a mind like a whip, and boy oh boy did she ever let you know exactly what she
    was thinking. That's not Ruth Osborne out there, what you're seeing now. Not by a long shot."
    Dale said to me," 'Be prepared,' we were told as children. But what can anybody do to prepare for this?"
    "What did June want, anyway?" Janet asked."
    "We go weeks without seeing June," Elsie said to me, clearly hopeful that I might become an ally in her disapproval of a daughter who didn't visit her mother often enough. To Janet, she said, "June and Parson both wanted to talk about selling the Herald to that big company that sounds like somebody sneezing."
    "InfoCom?"
    "Yes, they wanted Mrs. Osborne to vote for that one."
    "Parson too?"
    "Both of them did, yes. They tried to get Mrs. Osborne to come in here with them and shut the door, I suppose. But she wouldn't budge from the breakfast nook, so I heard a lot of what was discussed. I had baked corn to get in the oven, you know."
    Janet picked up the cue and said, "Mom sure loves your baked corn, Elsie."
    "Oh yes, she enjoys it when I cook."
    "So what did Mom say about InfoCom and her vote?"
    "Why, she didn't say anything at all. She said hello and how do you do and not a word more, as far as I'm aware. Several times while they were here, June said, 'Mom, what's the matter?' Or, 'Mom, are you listening to me?' She knew your mother wasn't right, Janet. She saw that it was more than just forgetfulness this time."
    "Did June say anything about it to you?"
    "No, but she gave me a look on the way out—like I knew all the time your mother's mind was going, and now June knew it too. Parson Bates was all smiles, but he was right there the whole time, so he got the picture too, you can bet your boots on that."
    "I ran into them on their way out," Janet said, "but neither one of them mentioned anything about Mom's being different."
    "Those two are up to something," Elsie said ominously, and no one in the room contradicted her.
    Janet told Elsie she would contact Mrs. Osborne's physician, who had diagnosed early stages of Alzheimer's disease a year earlier, and
    find out if anything should or could be done at this point. Dale said that was wise, but in her medical opinion little could be done with Mrs. Osborne beyond help, patience, and kindliness. Experiments were underway with drugs, but so far the benefits were far from certain.
    We were about to leave the study when the door suddenly opened and there stood Ruth Osborne smiling in at