Death Benefits

By Sarah N. Harvey

Royce (aka Rolly) is having a bad year. Not only has his mother dragged him across the country in order to be close to her aged father Arthur, a celebrated cellist, but he's also recovering from mono. When he convinces his mother to let him finish the school year by correspondence, he's left feeling isolated and lonely, and spends his time watching TV and plotting ways to get back to his friends in Nova Scotia. But before his plans can be implemented, his grandfather has a small stroke. Suddenly Arthur needs more care than Royce's mother can provide and, after a couple of hired care aides quit, Royce is pressed into service.

Looking after a ninety-five-year-old—especially one as cantankerous, crafty and stubborn as Arthur—is a challenge. But as Royce gets to know the eccentric old man—who loves the Pussycat Dolls, hates Anderson Cooper and never listens to the kind of music that made him famous—he gradually comes to appreciate that his grandfather's life still has meaning. Even if Arthur himself seems to want it to end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
• Release date: Oct 1, 2010
• ISBN: 9781554694570

Sarah N. Harvey

Sarah N. Harvey writes for both children and young adults. Some of her books have been translated into Korean, French, German and Slovenian. She lives in Victoria, British Columbia, where she works as a children's book editor. For more information, visit www.sarahnharvey.com.

Book preview

Death

Benefits

SARAH N. HARVEY

Death

Benefits

ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

Copyright © 2010 Sarah N. Harvey

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Harvey, Sarah N., 1950-

Death benefits / written by Sarah N. Harvey.

Issued also in an electronic format.

ISBN 978-1-55469-226-2

I. Title.

PS8615.A764D42 2010      JC813’.6      C2010-903589-5

First published in the United States, 2010

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010929078

Orca Book Publishers is dedicated to preserving the environment and has printed this book on paper certified by the Forest Stewardship Council.

Summary: Royce is pressed into service as caregiver for his ninety-five-year-old grandfather and gradually comes to appreciate the cantankerous old man.

Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

Design by Teresa Bubela

Typesetting by Nadja Penaluna

Front cover image © Zoomstock/Masterfile

Back cover image by Dreamstime

www.orcabook.com

Printed and bound in Canada.

13 12 11 10 • 4 3 2 1

For Lynne

Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Acknowledgments

One

"I can’t take it anymore."

My mom is on the phone in the kitchen. I think she is crying. Or else her allergies are acting up again. Either way, she sounds miserable. She blows her nose vigorously as she listens to whoever’s on the other end. I stop halfway up the stairs from the basement. I could easily slip back down to my room or sneak out the basement door, but something in her voice—desperation tinged with anger, muddied by snot—keeps me on the fourth stair from the top. That and the fact that she’s obviously talking about me. Again.

He’s impossible, Marta, she says. Absolutely impossible. Doesn’t have any friends. Sleeps all day. Watches TV all night. Never showers. Refuses to cut his hair. Pushes his dirty dishes under the bed or stuffs them in drawers with his dirty underwear. I’m at my wits’ end.

I want to leap into the kitchen and say, Hey! It’s only two o’clock. I’m up. I’ve had a shower. I’m dressed. And I never put dirty things—dishes or underwear—in drawers. I leave them on the floor. And when were you in my room anyway? I have standards. Low ones, but still. She shouldn’t be talking shit about me. It’s true I haven’t cut my hair for three years, but I wash it every couple of days. It’s very fine and super straight, just like Mom’s. You’d think she’d be a bit more sympathetic. And now she’s complaining to Marta, who’s probably not surprised to hear that her poor fatherless nephew is turning out so badly.

Marta is my aunt—my mom’s half sister. She’s at least sixty to my mom’s thirty-eight, and she’s lived in Australia for years. Mom says she went as far away as she could without sacrificing a country club membership. Aunt Marta comes back to Canada once in a while, but she hasn’t visited us since we moved across the country from Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, to Victoria, British Columbia. We came here to be closer to my grandfather, who’s ninety-five. He was a famous cellist, back in the day, and he never lets anyone forget it. Marta calls him a monster of self-regard. Mom says he’s just understandably self-involved, being so old and all. I don’t know anyone else that old, so I don’t know whether old age always goes hand in hand with rampaging egotism. From what I can gather, he’s always been that way, so my guess is that it’s not an age thing. It’s just Mom trying to put the best possible construction on a shitty situation, like she always does.

I don’t know what to do, she says now. I need to find somewhere for him to go. Soon. Otherwise I’m going to have a breakdown. I mean it, Marta. Cart me away to the bin. Put me in a straitjacket. Give me a lobotomy. I don’t care. At least I’d get some rest.

Somewhere for me to go? What’s she talking about? I hate it here, but the only place I want to go is back to Lunenberg. I mean, I can’t help it that I’m home all the time. I got mono right after Christmas, and by the time I was feeling better, school was about to close for spring break and then Easter. I’d missed so much school that I was able to convince Mom to let me finish the year by correspondence. And yeah, I’m alone a lot. Back home I had a few really good friends, guys I grew up with, but here—no one. Not yet anyway. Mom says it’s early days, but she’s wrong. I just don’t have the energy for a social life. Or the interest. Even before I got mono, I couldn’t muster up any desire to go to a movie, say, or a hockey game. Not that anyone asked. So the days slip by. A little schoolwork, a little TV, a little music, a lot of sleep. Some food, preferably microwavable. I don’t have meals with my mom. Even when I was little, I hated eating with other people. I hate seeing all that half-chewed crud when they talk or laugh. Nobody has any manners. My mom used to laugh and call me Little Lord Fauntleroy. Now she sighs and turns away from me as I stomp downstairs with my dinner.

It’s not like she’s around much anyway. In spring and summer she’s usually out the door by eight o’clock at the latest, working in other people’s gardens until early afternoon. She comes home, has a shower and eats something before her piano students start arriving at about three. Some nights the Bach-bashing goes on until nine o’clock. Mom snacks in between students. She eats standing up, staring at her reflection in the window above the kitchen sink. If I stood beside her, this is what I would see: one tall, pale, bony person (me); one short, tanned, wiry person (her). Same stringy hair, same brown eyes, same wide mouth. Same great teeth, but you can’t see mine because I’m not smiling. Different noses. Mine is a beak. Hers is small and veers slightly to the right when she smiles. Apparently I have the Jenkins nose, whatever that means. On weekends she works in our garden and practices the piano. And now she says she can’t take it anymore and she wants to get rid of me. Harsh.

I know we can’t afford anything fancy, Mom is saying. It just has to be clean. She’s silent for a minute, her fingers playing a fugue on the placemat. She always does that when she’s anxious. Plays Bach on a phantom piano. Maybe Aunt Marta is suggesting that I be shipped off to a detention center or something. Except I haven’t done anything criminal. Yet. Mom says, Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Maybe you’re right. No, I don’t think he’s drinking a lot. I do all the shopping and he never asks for wine or anything. Yes, I suppose he could call one of those Dial-a-Bottle places.

Drinking. Right. I’m sixteen. I have no friends. I have no money. The only alcohol in the house is a bottle of Kahlúa that my mom occasionally spikes her after-dinner coffee with. I drank some once and it almost made me puke. Give me a beer any day. How would I get drunk? Even if I wanted to, I just can’t be bothered.

I don’t know about drugs. I don’t think so. Mom sounds dubious. I never see any of the signs. As if she would notice if I was stoned. I used to smoke up with my buddies back home—we’d come back to my place all chatty and hungry, and she was so happy that I had friends over that she’d make us brownie sundaes or blueberry pancakes. I have no idea how to score here, and it wouldn’t be any fun alone anyway.

Mom is still talking. The only other thing to do is hire someone to come to the house. Maybe not for the whole day—he sleeps so much—but at least to help out with meals.

What is she talking about? A babysitter? She must be totally losing it. Early-onset Alzheimer’s or something. I’d choose a detention center over a babysitter any day. And I don’t need help with meals. My microwaving skills are of a very high order.

And someone has to help him take a shower.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Since when do I need help taking a shower? I bound up the last four stairs and burst into the kitchen. I hit my head on the doorjamb on the way up and have to sit down suddenly until the wave of pain and dizziness passes. I have done this so many times since we’ve lived here that Mom doesn’t even look up. You’d think I’d learn. When I can speak, my voice comes out as a croak. No way, Mom. No fuckin’ way.

Hang on, Marta. Rolly’s just come upstairs, she says calmly. She gives me a look that means We’ ll talk later. Rolly, you know how I feel about swearing. I’m on the phone right now.

Don’t call me Rolly, I mutter, my teeth gritted. My head is exploding.

She covers the phone with her hand and hisses at me. What’s the matter with you?

I’m not going to some juvie prison, and there’s no way I’m having a babysitter. If that’s the way you’re gonna play this, I’m outta here. I get up to go back downstairs, but my mom grabs my arm and hangs on.

Juvie prison? Who said anything about juvie prison? What have you been up to? Are you in trouble? She frowns and says into the phone, Marta, I’ll have to call you back.

For a small woman, my mom is really strong. She could probably bench-press me if she felt like it. I pull my arm away, rubbing the spot where she held me. There’ll be bruises tomorrow.

Rolly…Royce. I know it’s been hard on you… moving here…starting at a new school…getting sick…

But, Mom—

Let me finish, Royce. I wish I could spend more time with you and I wish you’d make some friends, but there’s only so much that I can do.

I’ll get a job. I’ll help out more. Just no babysitter.

Babysitter?

I heard you talking to Marta about sending me away. Or getting a babysitter.

Mom crosses her arms on the table and rests her head in her arms. Her hair falls around her face and her shoulders start to shake.

Jeez, Mom. Don’t cry, I say. It’s gonna be okay. It seems like the right thing to say, even though I have no idea if it’s true. My head hurts too much to think straight.

No answer. Just a hiccup and a snort, followed by a sort of neigh. She’s starting to freak me out, so I poke her shoulder and she lifts her face from her arms. There are tears on her cheeks and some snot under her nose, but she isn’t crying; she’s laughing the way she does when I do my fat Elvis impersonation for her.

What’s so funny? I ask. I should be glad she’s laughing, but I don’t like being laughed at. Especially when I’m not trying to be funny.

You, she replies, between gasps. What did you think? That I was sick of you?

Uh, yeah.

Oh, honey, she says. Never. She snorts again. Well, almost never.

Then who were you and Marta talking about?

She stops laughing and wipes her nose on the sleeve of her sweater. Your grandfather.

I think about that for a minute. Since we’ve been here, Mom has visited her father every other day and called him every evening. On the weekends, she cooks all his dinners for the following week. She does his laundry and his grocery shopping. She cuts his hair. The few times I’d been to see him, he’d seemed fine to me. Old and cranky, but fine. Mind you, he never actually talks to me. He looks at me, grunts and goes back to whatever he’s watching on tv. He bitches about Mom’s cooking. Or the way she makes his bed. Or the kind of toothpaste she buys him. Now that I think about it, I can see why she might want to put him in a home.

When I went to visit him with Mom about a month ago, the first thing he said to me was, You look like crap.

Coming from an ancient geezer in baggy brown cords, a stained beige sweater and slippers with the toes cut out, I though that was pretty rich.

Right back atcha, Gramps, I said.

We glared at each other for a few seconds before he turned to my mother and said, You need to get married again. The boy needs a man around the house. Someone to take him in hand. You’re obviously not up to the job.

Mom and I walked past him and up the stairs to the kitchen, where we put away his groceries in silence. Mom’s lips were pressed together in a straight, hard line as she slammed the cans of soup into the cupboard and flung the milk into the fridge. When we were finished, she turned to Arthur, who had followed us into the kitchen, and said, See you next week.

Can’t you stay for a few minutes? he whined. Make me a coffee?

She shook her head. Errands to run. Sorry.

What about you, boy? he said. Know how to make coffee?

Nope, I said. No man around to teach me.

We left, with Arthur shouting after us that we were both useless, selfish parasites. I haven’t been back.

So what are you gonna do? I ask now.

I’m not sure yet, she says. If we had a bigger place, maybe he could live with us. She shudders. My head is throbbing and I feel sick to my stomach. Maybe I have a concussion or maybe it’s the thought of living with Grandpa.

I’ll just have to find a caregiver, I guess, Mom says. He’ll love that.

"Better find

Reviews for Death Benefits

[xirxe · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Arthur die Artischocke

Royces Großvater ist ein Ekel wie es im Buche steht. Offenbar von sich und der Welt enttäuscht, schnauzt er alles und jeden an, ist mit nichts zufrieden und Mitmenschlichkeit scheint ein Fremdwort für ihn zu sein. Doch ist er mittlerweile in einem Alter, in dem es ohne Hilfe nicht mehr geht. Seine Tochter ist nicht in der Lage, sich in der Form um ihn zu kümmern wie es notwendig wäre. Und die Pflegekräfte, die sie ihm vermittelt, vergrault er bereits nach kurzer Zeit. So bleibt als letzte Lösung: Royce. Nicht dass er darüber begeistert wäre, es lockt ihn lediglich die Aussicht auf einen guten Verdienst.
Die Geschichte wird aus der Sicht des 16jährigen Royce erzählt, der ein mehr oder weniger normaler Teenager ist und seinen Großvater nicht ausstehen kann. Doch nach und nach nähern die Beiden sich an und auch wenn sie es nicht zugeben würden: Es entsteht sogar mehr als Sympathie zwischen ihnen.
Die Sprache ist recht gut getroffen, leicht schnoddrig altklug, sodass ich immer wieder grinsen musste. Zudem gelingt es der Autorin selbst bei so ernsten Themen wie Pflegebedürftigkeit im Alter und Sterbehilfe, einen humorvollen Grundton zu bewahren. Dass auf nicht einmal 250 Seiten derart große Themen abgehandelt werden (dazu noch in einem Jugendbuch), könnte einen fürchten lassen, dass sie allenfalls oberflächlich kurz angerissen werden. Doch weit gefehlt: Man spürt die Sorgen und Nöte, die Angst und Verzweiflung, die Arthurs Familie umtreiben. Und am Ende nahm ich eines noch mit: Patientenverfügung - muss ich unbedingt machen.

Ach ja, wieso Artischocke? Es ist die Definition seiner Exfrau Coralee: Aussen stachlig, innen ein weiches Herz.

[yukon92 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book was excellent! It is very suitable for Young Adult readers, but even an older reader like me can enjoy it.

[hiddenparagon · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Although it did start out slow in the beginning, I'm glad I stuck with it, and I soon found it hard to put down. While the course of the novel is rather predictable, it is very rateable. As someone who has had to help care for a elderly family member in an eerily similar situation to Royce's grandfather Arthur, relating to Royce on a personal level was easy.

[annawilliams_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Royce...oh Royce! He seems to life all together, and then is asked to babysit his grandfather. While he thinks this will be an easy money-making venture, Royce learns otherwise, as his grandpa teaches him about helping others when you really don't want to.

[moonsoar_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This book started off slowly, but by the half-way point, it had really picked up and had me totally gripped into the story. But even though it picked up, I wasn’t actually invested in the story… this book had so much potential, but it never went from “this book has so much potential!” to “okay, wow, this book is REALLY good.” There was the opportunity for a really deep book, that explored a lot of issues, but they were really just skimmed over, and it left me rather disappointed.Arthur is, by far, the star of this show. At times you roll your eyes at his orneriness, at times you laugh at his sense of humour, and at times your heart gets broken. I really wish the author had explored the dementia portion of Arthur’s character a little bit more – it’s mentioned a couple of times, but we only ever get to see the effects of it in Arthur once. And I wish that at that point in time, we could have also known how Royce was really FEELING about it – and even if you don’t like the dude, if your grandfather doesn’t know who you are, even for a few minutes, it’s … well, it’s going to make SOME sort of impact on you.My biggest issue with this book is that the narrator does NOT sound like a 16-year-old boy. It felt like the author was playing it safe, wasn’t really getting into the mind of Royce’s character. You know, like how the English-dubbed version of Edward Elric (from Fullmetal Alchemist) sounds so much older than the character is actually supposed to be – that’s exactly what Royce sounded like.Other than Arthur, none of the characters actually felt real – there could’ve been so much more depth there, Harvey could’ve made me love the characters and really feel for them, but… there’s nothing really there to them to make me care for them, which was rather sad…So yes, because I am a character reader, this was a disappointing book. We never really got to know anyone other than Arthur, and well, let’s just say that this isn’t a happy ending for Arthur.The Bottom LineAfter reading this, I have been craving listening to Ella Fitzgerald, Fred Astaire, Rodgers and Hammerstein and other wonderful music! But… I think that’s really the only thing that’s going to stick in my head regarding this book. Rather unfortunate. :(

[bell7_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Royce and his mom have moved across Canada to live near his ninety-five-year-old grandfather, Arthur. Arthur was a well-known cellist and a ladies' man in his time, but now he needs some help, but he's so ornery and a bit of a perv, which makes it impossible for his daughter to keep any hired help. This means that Royce, who's been out of school recovering from mono, gets the job instead. He isn't exactly looking forward to it, but he'll put up with his impossible grandfather to get the cash.A well-worn plot of crusty old guy and reluctant teenager who come to respect each other doesn't have much new to add. Royce, who is a lot like his grandfather, narrates the story, and I found I was not a fan of the more crude thoughts of teenage boys. Realistic, yes, but it came down to too much information for me at times. I thought more could have been done with the ethical questions that Royce asks himself towards the end; some of his decisions seemed to be more of a foregone conclusion. The banter between Royce and Arthur, on the other hand, was often fun, and despite the swearing I enjoyed seeing Royce stand up for himself after awhile.

[lauraenos · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Royce, a sixteen year old boy who has just moved to his aging grandfather's community with his widowed mother, is asked to take care of his grandfather, Arthur, for the summer. Royce and Arthur do not have much of a past let alone a positive one, and as a result their initial interactions with each other involve barking orders and muttering frustrating comments under their breath. Eventually Royce learns through the people in Arthur's life and old photo albums, about the kind of man Arthur was before age, bitterness and dementia set it. By the end of the novel, the two men grow a unique bond filled with mutual respect and it's much harder for Royce to say good-bye to a man he's only just met.

[elizardkwik · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Though somewhat predictable, this was a well-written story and managed to be interesting and funny, despite the serious subject matter. Rolly was both a likable and realistic narrator. Plus, it has an awesome cover. :)

[spartyliblover · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Royce might be my new favorite male ya character. I could not put this book down once I got started because I found Royce's story so interesting. His relationship with both his mother and grandfather create a great storyline that many teens with aging, distant grandparents can relate too. This book is another to add to the list of great male characters that boys will like. The language is a bit crude at some points, but very reflective of teenage males. This would be a wonderful book for the teen boys that come in looking for a book that doesn't center around romance. This review is based on an advance reading copy of the book.

[jadesbooks · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I'm on the fence on what I think about this book. One part of me really likes this story, how the family dynamics played out... and the other part of me thinks that the family relationships were a little forced.This book is the story of a 16 yr old boy named Royce, who's mom moved them to be closer to her father who is sick and needs more care than he was receiving before. Royce ends up taking care of his grandfather since no one else will put up with the cranky man, but Royce only goes because he's getting paid - and he hopes to get enough money through the summer to go ahead and move back to his old home and be with his friends and pick up the relationship, well physical relationship, with a girl named Peaches.Slowly we find out that Royce and his grandfather have a few personality similarities, but that Royce still thinks of the man as a burden, and he mostly feels guilty for his grandfather's worsening condition. There are glimmers of a friendship beginning between the two, but I think the author forced the love and bonding between them more than the story actually told.Overall, I enjoyed this book.. but not enough to recommend it to anyone. I had hoped that the relationship between Royce and his grandfather was a little more expanded in terms of respect and loyalty to each other. I know they helped each other out, but it seemed like it was more out of personal gain than for warm fuzzy feelings for the other.

[elissajanine · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was an emotionally true-to-life story about a teenage boy caring for his dying grandfather, who most certainly is not going gentle into that good night. Because the aging cello extraordinaire has suffered a stroke and needs daily care, Royce is forced to move with his mother all the way across the country to help, leaving all his friends behind. When his mom is unable to find a nurse willing to care for the cranky and handsy former musician, Royce takes the job as a way to earn the money to buy his own escape, but he finds himself unable to flee, even when he gains access to his grandfather's amazing classic car. Reading this book, my first thought was that the author must have been inspired by the personal experience of caring for an aged parent--the conflicts are all there, from the squabbling with siblings over making decisions for Arthur to the struggle to maintain a sense of dignity and a memory of the powerful and dynamic man he used to be. The pacing of the beginning is a little slow, so readers will have to exercise some patience to get to the heart of the story, which develops in a quiet, understated way. There are moments of wonderful discovery in this book, and I think it would appeal to teens who are close with a grandparent.

[annettemills · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Royce is miserable. He’s been moved from Nova Scotia to Vancouver (pretty much all the way across the country, for those of you unfamiliar with Canadian geography) because his grandfather can no longer take care of himself. Royce is not attending high school because, after contracting mono he missed so many days that he talked his mom into letting him stay home until the next school year. I thought this situation was a bit contrived (what mom would agree to such a thing) but it makes the story work.Death Benefits, by Sarah Harvey, is a story about a teenage boy growing up and realizing that his struggles are not that different from his ninety-five year old grandfather’s. Nina, Royce’s mom, has had such bad luck keeping caregivers for Arthur (Royce’s cantankerous grandfather) that she hires Royce to take care of Arthur for six hours every day, Monday through Friday. Royce is in it for the money. His intention is to buy a car and get back to his friends in Nova Scotia as quickly as possible, and surviving his grandfather’s verbal abuse and vicious mood swings is the fastest way to do it.Of course, the relationship becomes much more. Royce does his best to understand his grandfather’s mood swings – and begins to realize his grandfather’s unhappiness is not that far from Royce’s. “Why does everyone treat him like his brain’s as feeble as his body? I mean, yeah, sometimes the cogs slip, but most of the time he knows exactly what’s going on. He just doesn’t like it very much. I know how that feels.” Royce begins to understand his grandfather (who is a famous cellist) when he explores the many old photo albums in his grandfather’s closet.This book was enjoyable to read. Arthur’s character is very real – if anyone has ever dealt with aging parents or grandparents, his character rings true. Royce is a bit too good to be true, but his maturation throughout the story is satisfying. I’m not sure how appealing this story will be to teens. I think it will take some marketing on the part of teachers and librarians. I believe girls, especially, will enjoy the book, but I don’t think they’ll pick up a book that’s about a teenage boy babysitting his 95-year-old grandfather without some prodding. A very heartwarming, satisfying read.

[ekanderson_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

DEATH BENEFITS is the heart-wrenching story of Royce Peterson, who has recently moved across the country with his mother to help his ailing grandfather. And it's not like his grandfather, Arthur Jenkins, is a nice guy. He's a curmudgeonly ex-cellist who, though once famous enough to rub elbows with stars worldwide, is now pretty-much house-bound due to a recent stroke. Arthur is mean, insulting his mother and a string of nurses she hires to help care for him. Fed up, Royce's mom makes him a deal: take care of your grandfather this summer and I'll pay you what I was paying the pros. Begrudgingly -- and with his eyes on a car that can drive him back to Nova Scotia -- Royce agrees. He makes Arthur's cafe au laits, listens to him ranting at the television, and takes his verbal abuse. But underneath his gruff veneer, Royce discovers that Arthur has lived an incredible life, and the man he once was might still be there, if ever so slightly. This is a sweet story that will surely resonate with readers who have similar relationships with their grandparents.