Neutral

If I were a newspaper editor and assigned ten journalists to describe Paul Canton, I suspect every one of them would come up with very similar copy. For that matter, I suspect if ten novelists were asked to profile the man, even their accounts would coincide. This is because Paul was neutral: the man didn't display a single outstanding aspect. Isn't it the character who exhibits outstanding qualities that most writers immortalize?

Paul Canton had been at Sugar Loaf Health Center for half of his fifty years. Because he never caused trouble, never needed intense care, never did anything that concerned Staff, he was left pretty much alone. He did his daily duty of emptying wastebaskets throughout the facility and even riding with a Staff member to the landfill to toss the big black bags out. He always ate what was put in front of him, always took his Meds without grumbling, and never rubbed anyone the wrong way. With all that, you might wonder why he was a Resident at all. It was because he was incapable of taking care of himself. He did well only when he was told and shown everything expected of him.

The bottom line was that Paul was severely mentally retarded. I include him to show that not all Residents at Health Care Centers are raving maniacs, basket cases, catatonic puddles of jelly, or so dangerous they should wear straight jackets to dinner, be put in isolation, fully medicated, sterilized, or given lobotomies. Paul simply needed to be taken care of, and he needed more care than his working family was able to give him.

Paul Canton was the Every Man of Sugar Loaf. Our Common Man. Average Man. Man we could count on. He was as predictable as a well-programmed robot. He always showed up where he was supposed to and always on time. Though he didn't know how to read, write, deal with numbers, or even carry on a logical line of thought, he had just enough mental wherewithal to live successfully at Sugar Loaf. All institutions should be so lucky to have a Paul Canton. He was a model Resident.

Having said this, you might think there's nothing more anyone could say about the man, but there is one more thing: Paul had a strong sense of right and wrong. When a hotshot tried to impose on the rights of others, Paul's antennae shot out as if electrified. True, he didn't have the assertiveness to do anything about what he sensed, but his characteristic "Umph" and grimace said volumes. Had he been more vocal and active he could have been a stabilizing force at Sugar Loaf. As it was, his subtle reactions were just mild barometers of how things were going.

I wish I could write more about Paul Canton. But what can you say about a wallflower, a dishrag, a shadow, one who blends into the very air? I suspect the best summary of the man is that he was neutral. Which is actually saying a lot.