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Kolodny's knuckles look like the knees of a horse. He picks up the phone.
 She says, "My name is Sheila Reynolds. I am calling on behalf of a firm
called, "Surveys, Surveys, Surveys." We are on contract with the federal
government to do research on the health and exercise practices of older
adult Americans living on their own. We are hoping that you will have the
time to answer a few questions about your health and exercise practices.
You are free to refuse to answer, to not answer any question, to skip any
question. Is this a good time for you?"
The eyes of Kolodny roll. He says, "What. . .what?"
She says, "Is this a good time for you to speak with me?"
"Go ahead."
She says, "Am I speaking to Mr. Arthur Woonsocket Kolodny?"
"Yes."
She says, "What is your year of birth?"
"What's it to you? What the hell is it to you? What's it to you how old
I am?"
She says, "It is one of the questions we ask, Mr. Kolodny."
"Who the hell cares how old I am?" He says, "You think I remember how old I am? You think I know?" His
mouth is ajar. His breathing blows into the phone.
"Would there be a better time for me to call you back about this, Mr.
Kolodny?"
"You said you were who?"
"I am calling from the Washington, D. C. office of a firm called Surveys,
Surveys, Surveys. We are on contract with the federal government to do
research on the health and exercise practices of older Americans, Mr.
Kolodny. I am very sorry to bother you, Mr. Kolodny. We need to confirm
how old you are for a survey of ours you participated in last month."
"Survey?" A rectangle lies down on its side across a field. Hectares.
Acreage he has owned.
"Mr. Kolodny, did you talk to someone on the phone about a month ago about
your health and exercise practices?"
"What?"
"Did someone ask you how often you went for walks or played golf or . . ."
"Golf?"
"It's just one of our questions, Mr. Kolodny. Not everyone does play
golf. Were you called and asked questions about your activities?"
"I am not sure." He has seen pictures of things he has sworn and believed
he has never done, things he can't believe he was capable of doing.
"Do you think somebody may have called and talked to you about such things?"
"I'm not sure. I don't know."
"It's important that I ask, Mr. Kolodny, because sometimes the people who
work for us say they call, and they don't, and fill out their reports with
fake answers, and we need to know if this is happening. Do you think
probably somebody might have called and you gave them answers about your
exercise practices, Mr. Kolodny?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe, yes?" the woman says.
"Maybe," he says. "Such a thing might go unremembered by me."
"Our person who said they talked to you wrote down your age as 19 and that
you were married in 1935 and your wife died in 1972."
"I am not 19."
"Do you have a son who might have answered the phone?"
"I have a daughter, not here."
"Are you 91, Mr. Kolodny?"
She listens to him breathe.
"Are you 91, Mr. Kolodny? As I said, you are free to refuse to answer any
question I ask. Do you prefer not to answer questions about your age?"
He says, "I am 52."
"Are you sure you are 52, Mr. Kolodny?"
"I'm 52."
"Do you know the name of the President of the United States, Mr. Kolodny?"
"Yes."
"Are you positive you are 52 years old."
"I am 52 years of age."
"Good-bye, Mr. Kolodny," she says. "Thank you for your time."
Kolodny hangs up the phone and rubs his knuckles, kneading his knuckles in
turn into the palms of his hands.
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