The Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fisher

E.M. ANDERSON This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. THE REMARKABLE RETIREMENT OF EDNA FISHER. Copyright 2022 © E.M. Anderson. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information visit www.hansenhousebooks.com. Cover design by Elizabeth Jeannel ISBN 978-1-956037-22-7 (hardcover) ISBN 978-1-956037-21-0 (paperback) ISBN 978-1-956037-18-0 (eBook) First Edition First Edition: April 2023 This eBook edition first published in 2023 Published by Hansen House www.hansenhousebooks.com Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page The Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fisher CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHAPTER THIRTY CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE CHAPTER FORTY CHAPTER FORTY-ONE CHAPTER FORTY-TWO CHAPTER FORTY-THREE CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE CHAPTER FORTY-SIX CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT CHAPTER FORTY-NINE CHAPTER FIFTY CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR AUTHOR'S NOTE You’re probably here because this book sounds funny. An 83-year-old Chosen One? Laugh city! And, I mean, you’re kind of right. Remarkable Retirement is a warm and funny book about an old woman going on a fantastical adventure, found family, and dragons who, okay sure, might occasionally set a city on fire, but more importantly think they’re lapdogs. That said, this book isn’t farcical. While it’s often humorous, the story involves loss, grief, and unresolved trauma for everyone involved. Some of the characters have anxiety or PTSD and suffer from panic attacks, nightmares, and flashbacks on the page. Some scenes involve physical violence, fire, injury, blood, and death. Additionally, while physical abuse does not occur on the page, it is discussed frequently throughout the story. If any of these topics might be triggering for you, you may want to proceed with caution. If you need to set the book aside, read it later, or not read it at all, please do so: Edna would want you to take care of yourself, and I want that, too. If you do choose to pick the book back up someday, I hope it proves a comfort read despite the tough topics. to grandpa CHAPTER ONE Golden Years Senior Care Center was a strictly nonmagical nursing home. Other homes had enchanted board games and classes on spellwork; Golden Years didn’t have so much as an enchanted bedpan. The activities director made up for this by planning day trips, macrame classes, and other equally magicless events to enhance the seniors’ social lives. Today’s offering was bingo. As they did every Thursday, the seniors crowded around cafeteria tables in the lounge as an orderly called numbers for them. Half of them had fallen asleep. The other half played with an air of unpleasant necessity—except for the front table, who generally showed more enthusiasm for the home’s activities than warranted. Edna Fisher hadn’t planned to live out her days in a place like this, but it had been the most affordable option close to the cemetery. If she’d wanted a magical home, she would have had to move to Pittsburgh. Goodness knows how often she could have visited if she were living in Pittsburgh. She should have been on her way to the cemetery now, but the activities director, Jeanine, had roped Benjamin into helping with the game; he was Edna’s ride. She was stuck here until bingo was over. Jeanine stopped by their table for the third time that morning to give Edna a sugary smile. Benjamin was helping Edna’s roommate fill in her bingo card, but Edna’s card was blank. She’d been knitting a scarf and reading the funnies in the paper instead of playing bingo, as she did every Thursday when Jeanine dragged her from her room “for your own mental health, Mrs. Fisher.” Now, Jeanine leaned over the table to examine Edna’s card. Her smile sharpened. “We’ve called a lot of these numbers.” Edna replied with her own sweet smile. “Have you now? I hadn’t noticed.” “If you’d been paying attention, you could’ve won something by now.” Edna counted her stitches. “Would that be the gardening tool kit I can’t use because I don’t have a garden, or the bath bombs I can’t use because my room doesn’t have a bathtub?” Jeanine sighed. “The prizes aren’t the point.” “Thank goodness for that. They’re not very good prizes.” Benjamin, sitting beside Edna, nudged her under the table with his foot. She nudged him back. Jeanine didn’t notice. She pinched the bridge of her nose and recovered her smile. “You know, Mrs. Fisher, I’m not trying to bore you. Seniors need consistent socialization. You may not think so now, but at your age it’s important to...” Edna surreptitiously turned down her hearing aid as Jeanine droned on. Jeanine liked to wax poetic about the value of cultivating a social life at Golden Years. It might have meant more if anything about bingo day resembled social life and if Edna weren’t subjected to the exact same lecture every week. Benjamin elbowed Edna. Jeanine had finished her lecture and moved on to harass another resident. Edna turned her hearing aids back up. “It’d be easier to humor her,” Benjamin said. “I know you don’t like bingo, but it wouldn’t kill you to get in on the action.” Edna snorted, losing count of her stitches. “Bingo isn’t action, young man. Tell me when they get a blackjack table in here.” Benjamin marked off another box on Marguerite’s card. He was in his early thirties, bespectacled