The waiting room smelled of antiseptic and peppermint tea, a place where time seemed to slow on purpose. Three elderly men sat side by side, coats folded neatly, canes resting at their feet. Dr.

Halpern smiled as he prepared a routine memory test. Nothing scary—just a gentle check. Mr.

Arthur straightened proudly, ready to prove he was still sharp. “Arthur,” the doctor asked, “what is three times three?” Arthur frowned, lips moving as he searched for the answer. After a long pause, he announced confidently, “Two hundred and seventy-four!” The doctor nodded politely and wrote it down.

Arthur beamed, clearly pleased. Next was Mr. Bernard, who leaned on his cane and winked.

Asked the same question, he replied cheerfully, “Tuesday!” The word floated in the room. The doctor scribbled again, biting back a laugh, while Bernard chuckled at his own brilliance. Then came Mr.

Clarence, who had been watching quietly, eyes twinkling. When asked, he answered without hesitation, “Nine.” The doctor looked up, surprised. “That’s correct,” he said.

Clarence leaned in and whispered, “I got it by subtracting Tuesday from two hundred and seventy-four.” The room exploded with laughter. As they left together, still teasing one another, the doctor made a final note: “Memory questionable. Spirits excellent.”