THE LAST DAYS OF PTOLEMY GREY by Walter Mosley

I hate to be the dissident in thinking this book is not great, but it moved along as slowly as its 91-year-old protagonist.  Ptolemy Grey’s apartment has become a cesspool, and he is too feeble to clean it up.  Plus, Reggie, a nephew (several times removed) who checks on him every few days and takes him to buy groceries, has been killed in a drive-by shooting.  Seventeen-year-old Robyn, who is not a blood relative, steps in and takes over Ptolemy’s care with aplomb.  Ptolemy has some unfinished business that he wants to address before he dies, not the least of which is avenging Reggie’s murder. However, his dementia is interfering with his ability to express himself, and his memory is fading fast.  If only there were a miracle cure.  Well, guess what?  There’s a doctor who can restore Ptolemy’s faculties temporarily, but the drug will ultimately hasten his death.  (This reminds me of the book Flowers for Algernon, but this one is not nearly as poignant.)  Ptolemy likens the doctor to Satan, but he has sold only his body, which he must donate for scientific research, not his soul.  The remainder of the novel is about Ptolemy’s newfound clarity and his mission to right a number of wrongs.  Ptolemy and Robyn develop a bond that evolves into a sort of May-December romance—platonic, thankfully.  Frankly, I found this aspect of the novel to be a little creepy, particularly when they become jealous of each other’s age-appropriate relationships.