Welcome to Golden, Chapter 2

Billy walked south on McKinley Street from Fred’s house, enjoying the pleasant neighborhood. Somewhere in one of the houses he could hear a television playing an Elvis Presley song – the second time that day. As far as he knew, no one was living in any of the houses around there, so the sound was unusual, but not surprising. The computer that generated Golden had a few loops in its programming that sometimes kicked in at odd times.

He walked two blocks to Sycamore, where he turned right, taking less than five minutes. As he walked, Billy had Elvis on his mind, so it didn't seem like much of a stretch when he thought he saw him. When he got to Main Street, he walked across toward the hardware store looking first left then right to make sure he didn’t get run over by a car. Before he looked right, though, he thought he saw Elvis using the window of the Montgomery Wards as a mirror. By the time he turned his head back to get a better look, Elvis was no longer there. Billy shook his head in disbelief; it had to be his mind playing tricks, or perhaps one of Golden's programmers was experimenting. Regardless, Billy had to move on to Peter Boone, who lived in an apartment over the Golden Hardware.

He glanced at his watch and saw that the computers estimated Peter had at least 30 minutes left before he died. Computers and machines could keep a person alive longer than what was really natural; but in the end, no one could escape the inevitable. Since taking this job on the project, Billy had helped twelve people die. Sometimes the process took hours, and others only minutes, depending on the physical condition of the patient. No one could really tell when it would happen, but the computers were getting pretty good at the timing. And while some patients wanted to take their time when the end came, most were ready when the Reaper showed up at their door.

It was his least favorite part of the job and emotionally draining, but probably the most important of his duties. He was fairly knowledgeable about geriatric psychiatry, it was part of the job description, but there was very little you could learn in school about what he did in Golden, and nothing about a person's final thoughts upon dying. With the twelve patients he assisted from living to death, he could write a book, and probably would one day. He'd already published one paper and was working on a second. Billy was one of the only people in the world who could say he knew what someone was thinking at the time of death — it could be a frightening or wonderful moment. Now, he was on his way to escort Peter Boone to his end, and like most things in Golden, it would be done with an eye toward comfort to the resident — everyone deserved a noble death and that was one reason Billy's career took the path it had.

Peter was eighty-three years old and had spent thirteen weeks in Golden. Billy visited with him at least every other day he was in Golden, more than the other residents. Boone had been an insurance actuary since he came back from the war. His wife, Beatrice, had died nearly fifty years before and left him to raise his son by himself. That son, who everyone in the world knew, paid for Peter’s stay in Golden, but Billy could see that their relationship was complex. If one thing Golden did, it gave the children of its residents a nice worry-free place to ship their parents off to. Even though difficult and expensive, visits by family members to Golden were encouraged and something Billy advocated, much to the dismay of the techies and bean counters with the Foundation. Still, it was rare that any of the children visited their parents. Billy had a theory that to the children, their parents had died many years before, and it was too difficult to try and reestablish a relationship with someone you’ve already said goodbye to. No one really knew how to handle the second chance Golden gave its residents.

Peter was a shy man, and didn’t interact much with the other residents. Occasionally, he would visit with Fred, but he was a difficult man to get to know. Most of Peter Boone’s time in Golden was spent taking walks and playing the piano. He told Billy soon after his arrival that he had taken lessons as a youth and loved it, but his father had died and his mother could not afford for young Peter to continue his musical studies. He still played, though, and even though he wouldn't say it, Billy assumed Boone had once had dreams larger than being an actuary.

What he did do, though, was raise a son who became the richest man in the world and whose company was responsible for much of the technology that made Golden possible. Everyone knew Pete Boone although very few knew he was a junior. To the world, the son's accomplishments far outshined his father's; but, in Billy's mind, there should be some credit for a single parent who raised a genius.

Billy made it to the door outside the hardware store and climbed the stairs. There were two floors with two apartments each above the store, two of which were occupied by residents — Peter and Lily Perez. The other two were occupied by Seegees running on a constant routine. The Seegees said hello in the hallways, but you couldn’t borrow a cup of sugar from them — they never answered their doors. You could ask a Seegee a question, but the likely answer would be directions or rules. If you stopped one and asked it where you could get an ice cream, it would tell you how to get to Mercer's Drug Store or the supermarket. That’s what you got with computer generated people. Great neighbors, though — never loud and always friendly. A resident with an emergency could talk to one of the dozen or so Seegee police officers that walked the town, which would “relay” that there was problem in Golden to the technicians manning the control room at the Foundation's warehouse in the real world.

Billy knocked on the door and Peter Boone opened it like he was expecting someone.

“Hello Mr. Boone,” Billy greeted him. “How are you today?”

Mr. Boone looked about forty with a slight graying at the temples. He wasn't a handsome man, exactly, but he had all his hair. The appearance he chose for himself was about what everyone who didn't always feel comfortable in Golden usually settled on ­_­— approaching mid-life. Most residents chose a young adult version of themselves while a few — the ones who didn't interact much with the other residents especially — chose the appearance they knew before starting to feel the pains of age, which was around sixty or so.

Mr. Boone normally wore a modest dark suit, sometimes without a tie. The only thing different this day was that he had dressed himself in a tuxedo, complete with tails.

“Dr. Watson, hello. It’s time, isn’t it?” he asked. “I knew it was coming soon. I haven’t been feeling well.”

Mr. Boone stepped into the hallway and locked his door; a habit left over from his real life.

“What do I do now?” he asked. Billy smiled and grabbed him lightly by the arm to lead him out of the building.

“Follow me,” Billy said. “Everything is all set up according to what you wanted.”

The old man hesitated. There was something else; it was what almost everyone wants when they are close to the end.

“Will Junior be there?”

“I’m not sure, Mr. Boone. Your son was told of your wishes, but to be honest, it will be up to him. We can’t force anyone to come to Golden. I think, though, that curiosity will get the best of him and he won't miss an opportunity to see what we have done with his products. And to see you.”

Boone nodded his head and allowed Billy to lead him out the door into the sunlight. Billy led him silently three doors north to the bakery and opened the door. A Seegee greeted them and asked them to take a number. Billy ignored the computer-generated counter man and opened a door that had the word “office” emblazoned upon it in official letters.

Part of the “experience” of Golden for its residents was that they could design their ending. If you wanted to go out on a beach at sunset, it was created by the computers in one of fifteen special rooms around town designed for that purpose. It was to one of these rooms that Billy led Peter Boone. Which is why when they opened the office door at the bakery, the pair found themselves backstage at Carnagie Hall.

Billy and Mr. Boone could hear a rustling crowd and the arguing of a man with a Seegee stagehand. The man wasn’t making much headway.

“I’m looking for my father, they said he would be here.”

“Five minutes to showtime,” the Seegee said to him.

“You keep saying that. Why won’t you give me a straight answer?”

“Five minutes to showtime,” the Seegee answered.

Billy was glad to see Mr. Boone’s son had made it, but upset that he arrived before they did. Junior Boone looked almost exactly like his father — they were about the same age.

“Junior?” Mr. Boone said. The younger man looked over to his father. They hesitated, not sure what to do before they virtually leaped into each other’s arms.

“Where are we, Dad?” Junior asked. Billy answered before Mr. Boone could.

“I'm Dr. Watson, we talked yesterday about the process,” Billy said, offering his hand. Boone junior took it and shook. He was puzzled.

“Dr. Watson? You can't be Dr. Watson, he was a young guy, you're ...”

“Older. I know. It's how I look here. Our residents are more comfortable with a doctor who looks more experienced. We can talk about that later. Let me assure you that I am the same Dr. Watson you talked to yesterday and we are backstage at Carnegie Hall. Your father is about to go on stage to perform.”

The older man grinned, but his hands also shook with nerves.

“It’s something I’ve always dreamed of doing.”

A Seegee stepped up and said, “It’s time Mr. Boone. Break a leg.”

Peter Boone took a deep breath and walked out onto the stage. The crowd raised its collective voice in appreciation. He sat at the piano bench and began playing while his son looked on with pride.

“When I was a kid, he always used to play an upright we had in the parlor, funny little tunes to make me laugh. I never knew he was this good,” he whispered in Billy’s ear.

“In Golden, you can do anything.”

After Mr. Boone had finished a Mozart concerto, he got up from the bench and began to bow. He waved to his son to come over with him. Billy had to push Junior onto the stage. He once more hugged his father and the two of them came over to Billy, both with identical grins. From the crowd, screams of “Encore!” were wafting through the backstage area. Billy indicated that Mr. Boone had to go back out. Junior tried to follow, but Billy held up an arm to hold him back.

“This part he can only do alone.”

Mr. Boone addressed the audience.

“This is for my son; we weren't always close and maybe I wasn't the best father. But I never stopped loving him.”

He sat at the bench and began playing “Red River Valley,” or at least that’s what Billy thought he heard. After the first verse, Peter Boone sat up straight. He looked over to his son and smiled and waved.

Then he was gone.

“That’s it? He’s dead?”

“Yes.”

Junior Boone stared at the space his father had just occupied, the audience was roaring its approval of his father’s life.

“I wish I had known more about him,” Junior said.

“You knew enough. You knew he loved you. The rest doesn’t matter, you will always have your memories of him. Your father was happy you made it here, and so am I.”

Billy grabbed the son by the arm and led him back to the door. They walked through the bakery, Billy leading the richest man in the world past the counter man asking them to take a number and out the front door. The sun was still shining and Billy was relieved that Peter Boone's passing went well — they didn't always go that smoothly.

This was the first time a family member had come to Golden, but there was a protocol that had been developed for such cases. Family members were given the option to visit their loved one's home in Golden. The belongings and home the deceased had rendered were locked in a diorama until Billy gave the authorization for it to be wiped. There was no reason to use up computer space maintaining a house or apartment that wasn't being used. Billy usually waited two days before having the techs delete a diorama in order to give any friends within Golden a chance to have their own ceremonies if they wanted.

“This is incredible,” Pete Boone said as Billy led him north, away from his father's apartment, and up Main Street. “This is far more advanced than I had imagined. Where are we going?”

Billy smiled at the powerful man's impression of Golden. Tours of Golden were generally discouraged and Fred would have gone crazy if he had known what Billy was doing. Jenny, however, had encouraged this walking tour of the computer generated town. There was a lot of goodwill to be gained from showing Boone around.

“Officially, I'm taking you to your father's apartment so you can take a look. That's the protocol for visits into Golden,” Billy said.

“Is it far?”

“No, not far at all, but it might take us awhile to get there,” Billy smiled as he led Boone away from his father's apartment and up Main Street.

For an hour, he showed Boone the sights of Golden, walking up and down the streets, even taking him to the east side of town bordered by a river and a small lake. Along the way, they encountered a few residents, and Billy was relieved none wanted to talk to him or the mysterious stranger. Actually, Boone junior looked so much like his father that most probably thought it was him, which served Billy well. People from the outside were seldom seen in Golden. In a normal small town, a new face might be met with suspicion, but not in Golden where residents were frequently coming and leaving.

Along the way, Boone asked hundreds of questions, not only about the town but about his father. He wanted to talk to the friends his father had made during his stay.

“I can't really do that,” Billy said, he didn't want to lie. “Your father didn't have friends here in Golden. As you know, he was a solitary man, but he also was ready to die. He didn't interact much with the other residents. But he was happy here, he was able to do the one thing he had always wanted to do — that's what was important to him.”

Billy could tell Boone was dealing with a lot of emotions, not the least of which was grief.

“All I wanted to do was make his last days … comfortable,” Boone said. “When I heard about this place, I was dubious it would offer everything your Foundation was promising. Looking at it, though, it's amazing. So what happens now? Do we look at his apartment?”

Billy took him up the stairs and opened the door. Across the hall, Lily Perez stuck her head out to see who was there. She opened the door all the way when she saw Boone and Billy. She was an attractive woman in her mid-twenties. Her dark hair was styled perfect and she wore a blue dress that was fashionable in her youth. She smiled at Boone.

“Hello Peter,” she said. “Hello Dr. Watson. Peter, I was hoping it was you, I wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight. I was able to make a cribbage board like I told you about last time … oh …”

She stopped when she realized she wasn’t talking to the person she thought she was. Billy jumped in before the conversation became even more awkward.

“Ms. Perez, this is Mr. Boone's son, who also goes by Peter,” he said. “I'm afraid Mr. Boone has gone. His son came to say goodbye.”

She looked at Boone closely then silently hugged him, holding him tight for at least a minute. When she finally pulled back, she was lightly crying. Billy pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she said. “You look so much like him. I'm so glad you came. Peter was worried you wouldn't. Your father was a dear, sweet man. I hope you know how much he loved you. And ...” she straightened up. “... I hope you appreciate all he did for you.”

Billy’s jaw nearly dropped as this small woman dressed down one of the most powerful men in the world as if she didn't care who he was. Boone took the words as they were intended, though, and displayed a charm his father never had.

“Yes ma'am,” he said. “I do know. Even more, I'm happy to know that he had a friend in you.”

“I happy to have known your father, young man. You did him proud. If you'll excuse me, I need to attend to something.” With that, she darted back into her apartment with Billy's handkerchief. He knew he would have to check with her later to make sure she was okay. Up until that point, he wasn't aware of the extent of her relationship with Peter Boone.

Billy led the younger Boone into his father's apartment and stayed with him while they looked over the diorama. Boone commented that it looked just like the apartment his father had lived in years ago, before the cancer attacked his colon.

Soon it was time for Boone to leave and Billy took him to his office in the Bank and Trust building, where walking through a special closet door told the technicians in the real world that a visitor was ready to be pulled out of the program.

“What do I do?” Boone asked.

“Just walk forward slowly. The nanoprobes in your body will recognize that you are ready to go back to the real world and the techs will take you out,” Billy said.

He gave a little shove that sent the man stumbling toward the door. He didn’t mean to be rude, but sometimes people need a shove. He smiled after Boone’s avatar disappeared; things had gone better than expected. Hopefully the Foundation had made a new needed friend.