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The phone call comes in the early morning hours.
It is a call they’ve been dreading.
His wife’s hands shake as she fumbles with her phone, trying to use FaceTime, her vision blurry with tears.
He sits silently beside her.
While she sobs, he remembers.
These crooked paths. 1/
It is a call they’ve been dreading.
His wife’s hands shake as she fumbles with her phone, trying to use FaceTime, her vision blurry with tears.
He sits silently beside her.
While she sobs, he remembers.
These crooked paths. 1/
He is fed up with COVID.
There’s only so much a man can take. Everything seems uncertain, and everything seems unfair.
Every decision to reopen and then rollback hits him in his gut. This sense that nobody knows what they’re doing.
Enough.
He’s going out. 2/
There’s only so much a man can take. Everything seems uncertain, and everything seems unfair.
Every decision to reopen and then rollback hits him in his gut. This sense that nobody knows what they’re doing.
Enough.
He’s going out. 2/
His wife asks him where he’s going.
“Just a drive. I gotta get outta here for a bit.”
She asks him to wear his mask, and he says something gruffly under his breath as he leaves.
His car comes to life with a roar, and he accelerates out of the driveway and into the night. 3/
“Just a drive. I gotta get outta here for a bit.”
She asks him to wear his mask, and he says something gruffly under his breath as he leaves.
His car comes to life with a roar, and he accelerates out of the driveway and into the night. 3/
The open road is comforting.
He lowers his windows and turns up the music. Life is a highway.
The wind ruffles his hair.
Freedom.
He smiles, and breathes in deeply. No quarantine here. No masks. No contradictions.
On a whim, he decides to stop at a diner. 4/
He lowers his windows and turns up the music. Life is a highway.
The wind ruffles his hair.
Freedom.
He smiles, and breathes in deeply. No quarantine here. No masks. No contradictions.
On a whim, he decides to stop at a diner. 4/
He’s trying to lose weight, eat healthier. His wife is big on a meal-planning kick. Everything is steamed.
Well, tonight, he’s in the mood for a milkshake and some fries, and that’s what he’s going to get.
He parks his car and gets out.
He leaves his mask. 5/
Well, tonight, he’s in the mood for a milkshake and some fries, and that’s what he’s going to get.
He parks his car and gets out.
He leaves his mask. 5/
It’s not that he has anything against the masks themselves. Heck, he honestly doesn’t even notice it after wearing it a while.
But it’s what the mask symbolizes to him now. This unending saga that’s cost him his job, his freedom.
Besides, nobody at this diner is masked up. 6/
But it’s what the mask symbolizes to him now. This unending saga that’s cost him his job, his freedom.
Besides, nobody at this diner is masked up. 6/
He steps inside and his smile broadens. The diner is packed. It feels so good to be part of a crowd.
As if the pressing together of humanity is one giant rebuke to this moment, this monster.
He sits down and orders his food.
It arrives, and it is delicious. 7/
As if the pressing together of humanity is one giant rebuke to this moment, this monster.
He sits down and orders his food.
It arrives, and it is delicious. 7/
He pays the bill, nods a smile of thanks to the server and gets up to go.
The moment that will change his life forever happens so innocuously that he doesn’t even realize it at first.
In the years ahead, this is the moment he will revisit repeatedly.
Someone nearby coughs. 8/
The moment that will change his life forever happens so innocuously that he doesn’t even realize it at first.
In the years ahead, this is the moment he will revisit repeatedly.
Someone nearby coughs. 8/
He gets home and feels a twinge of guilt as he realizes his wife left food out for him, and has gone to sleep already.
His mom, however, is still awake and watching TV in the living room.
She’s been living with them since dad died last year.
“Goodnight mom.”
“G’night.” 9/
His mom, however, is still awake and watching TV in the living room.
She’s been living with them since dad died last year.
“Goodnight mom.”
“G’night.” 9/
His dreams are troubled that night. He has been having vivid nightmares lately, but this one is just strange.
He’s lost in the woods. Darkness and shadows surround him.
The path ahead should be clear, but it isn’t. It’s crooked, and leads him in circles.
He can’t sleep. 10/
He’s lost in the woods. Darkness and shadows surround him.
The path ahead should be clear, but it isn’t. It’s crooked, and leads him in circles.
He can’t sleep. 10/
A week later, he wakes up one morning feeling immensely fatigued and achy.
His wife has already gone to work. She is an essential worker. Doubly essential now that he’s been laid off.
He groans and sits up, rubbing his temples.
He can hear his mom in the kitchen. 11/
His wife has already gone to work. She is an essential worker. Doubly essential now that he’s been laid off.
He groans and sits up, rubbing his temples.
He can hear his mom in the kitchen. 11/
As he finishes brushing his teeth, he feels his muscles aching badly all over.
A chill runs through him.
A gnawing realization.
“Mom?”
She calls back from the kitchen, “Yes?”
“Do you have dad’s old thermometer?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Nothing, just wanna check something.” 12/
A chill runs through him.
A gnawing realization.
“Mom?”
She calls back from the kitchen, “Yes?”
“Do you have dad’s old thermometer?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Nothing, just wanna check something.” 12/
It’s an old mercury thermometer. He rinses it off, then puts it under his tongue.
His mom has already felt his forehead with the back of her hand, and says he feels fine to her.
As he waits, she starts telling one of her rambling stories.
For once, he listens. 13/
His mom has already felt his forehead with the back of her hand, and says he feels fine to her.
As he waits, she starts telling one of her rambling stories.
For once, he listens. 13/
“You know, when you were a little boy, your dad and I almost lost you. We had taken you to the park and looked away for just a moment and... poof! You vanished into the woods! There were all these crooked paths going in circles. Thank God we found you.”
She smiles. 14/
She smiles. 14/
He would have smiled too, except he stopped listening towards the end of the story. Because he’s staring at the mercury in thermometer.
100.9.
No way.
He looks at his mom. Her frail frame, her wispy white hair, the way her back bows into thin shoulders.
Oh no. 15/
100.9.
No way.
He looks at his mom. Her frail frame, her wispy white hair, the way her back bows into thin shoulders.
Oh no. 15/
There are some nightmares you can’t wake up from.
There are some moments in your life that get burned into your psyche with such terrible clarity.
When he’s diagnosed with COVID-19 it barely registers in his brain.
It’s his mom testing positive later that crushes him. 16/
There are some moments in your life that get burned into your psyche with such terrible clarity.
When he’s diagnosed with COVID-19 it barely registers in his brain.
It’s his mom testing positive later that crushes him. 16/
His wife is convinced it was neighbors who walked too close by, damn them.
She asks him about his mask, and he lies and says he’s always worn it.
He doesn’t tell her about the diner. He can’t.
His mom is hospitalized a week later.
He can’t visit her. Nobody can. 17/
She asks him about his mask, and he lies and says he’s always worn it.
He doesn’t tell her about the diner. He can’t.
His mom is hospitalized a week later.
He can’t visit her. Nobody can. 17/
The phone call comes in the early morning hours.
It is a call they’ve been dreading.
His wife’s hands shake as she fumbles with her phone, trying to use FaceTime, her vision blurry with tears.
He sits silently beside her.
While she sobs, he remembers.
Those crooked paths.
It is a call they’ve been dreading.
His wife’s hands shake as she fumbles with her phone, trying to use FaceTime, her vision blurry with tears.
He sits silently beside her.
While she sobs, he remembers.
Those crooked paths.
