COVID

We never expected it would happen. No one had prepared for it. And when it hit us like a tidal wave, we all drowned. Looking back, I wish my government had been more competent. I wish the rollout of the vaccines had been quicker. But what is the point in flipping over mattresses of the past when I can’t even control the future? There’s no time machine. If there was, I would blow up China. I know it’s a stupid notion, but I’d be desperate. If the Chinese chemists had self-isolated like they should’ve, the virus would’ve never spread. If, if, if. If is bullshit. Ifs don’t save people. Hell, I don’t even believe people can save people anymore.

But what’s the point in reminiscing about the past? You just want to know the present, right? I don’t know why I’m writing this tale. I don’t even know if anyone will ever read it. I guess I’m writing it in hopes something changes before it’s too late. The virus was never contained. Multiple countries believed it was, but it kept spreading like a wildfire you can’t dampen. So many variants. After a while of COVID constantly duplicating, people gave up. Hospitals gave up. If you remember the time before COVID as I do, the world we’re currently living in would look like Mars. Everyone is wandering around in what you would think are spacesuits. They’re biohazard suits and it’s a requirement to wear one before you leave your house now. No one knows what playing outside means anymore. Videogames have taken a whole new meaning. Virtual Reality is basically the only reality. People pump oxygen into their houses so they don’t go crazy. But for the few of us who do go outside, we do it to stay connected to the Earth and each other.

Like any dystopia, we break the rules. The Handmaid’s Tale had the prostitutes and we have our cigarettes. They’ve been banned for years, but there’s still a black market that supplies them. The best are Camels or Marlboros if you’re interested in cigarettes. Who knows? Maybe they’ll be back in circulation when you read this, dear reader.

Anyway, there’s a park where we congregate. Beth, Jim, Lois, and I remove our protective gear when we’re there. You can’t smoke with a suit on. Our lives aren’t very interesting so there’s not much to talk about and sometimes we don’t all show up. But today, everyone was there. I descended the hill into our little hangout behind the trees. The second park from the Locke Library in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. The library isn’t there anymore. It was blown up by some radicals who clearly hate reading. There were protests to protect our libraries, but in the end, it was to no avail. All the libraries have been stripped of their books. Nobody reads anymore unless it’s on a computer. You would think we could have our little smoke breaks inside Locke, but we appreciate the outdoors. We’re surprised nature is still standing.

“Sam’s ill again,” Lois told me. Sam was her husband. He still is, but he’s probably dead by the time you read this. Sam’s been having breathing problems. Ironically, they’re not due to COVID. Sam doesn’t even smoke. He doesn’t even know that Lois meets with us. If he did, he’d probably have a heart attack. You have no idea how putrid the air is now. But we don’t care. One way or another, we’re gonna get the virus. Everyone does, eventually. We’re ticking time bombs. But humans were meant to socialize. It’s how we stay alive. So, if we don’t socialize, we’ll probably die quicker.

“That’s a shame,” I told her as I light up beside her. I only smoke Marlboros.

“How’s your wife, Steve?”

“Alice is fine,” I told her. “We’re worried about the baby.”

The rest of the group nods.

“You’re brave,” Jim said. “Most people don’t wanna raise children in this.”

I nod. The truth is, I agree. I would’ve been perfectly happy to die childless. But Alice, she had other plans.

“Alice believes it’s the one bright thing in our lives.”

“If the baby’s healthy and ya know, not dead,” Beth said, gesturing with her cigarette. She smokes Camels, but Light. Girl cigarettes, basically.

I nod. I wouldn’t mind if Alice gave birth to a stillborn. But, I’m still not sure if I want to raise a baby in...this.

“How do you feel about it, Steve?” Lois asked me.

“Nervous,” I replied.

“Any new father would be.”

I nod again. In another life, Lois and I would’ve probably married. We’ve known each other since kindergarten. Lois would’ve been a fun wife and not because she’s blonde and has big breasts, but because she’s much more laid back than Alice. Hell, in another life, maybe I would’ve cheated with her. But you can’t cheat nowadays. It’s too easy to get caught. I hear the men get their dicks cut off if they’re caught cheating, but I’m sure that’s just a rumour.

You’d think during this time that wives and husbands don’t matter, but they do. Canada needs committed wives and husbands to keep the economy going. The goal is to kill the weak and single. They’re the most likely to fool around. It’s not working. More people who are together are dying together. The single people are miraculously surviving. In an ideal world, everyone is killed off and we start again like Adam and Eve. But that would only work if we could eliminate the virus. So far, no one has figured out how that would work. Another theory was that we just blow up the Earth. Put it out of its misery. But no one’s figured out a way to do that either. A way that makes sense, rather. I’ve heard the idea of stripping the Earth like an onion. Another way would be throwing the earth into the sun. But good luck moving a planet into the sun.

I drag on my cigarette and let out my second puff of smoke. “Why don’t we all just escape?”

“Escape to where?” questions Beth.

“I don’t know. Anywhere but here.”

“But we’d be abandoning our families.”

I wheeze. “We’re all gonna die from this virus. We should just get up and go.”

“But Steve, there’s no place to go. And even if we got across the border, where would we go?” questions Jim.

“Australia. I hear they’re COVID free.”

“Steve, no country is COVID free,” Lois pointed out.

“But they are,” I insisted. “I’ve been watching the news and because they have closed their borders, they are COVID free.”

“So, life is back to normal over there?”

“Pretty much.”

Lois drags on her cigarette one last time and chucks it into the dirt. “And how do you propose we get there?”

“We could leave tonight. Are you with me?”

“I can’t bring Sam, I take it?”

“He’d slow us down.”

The rest of the group is staring at Lois, curious if she’ll go with me on this suicide mission.

“I can’t leave Sam,” she finally said. “And you can’t leave your wife, Steve. You’re going to abandon Alice when she’s about to give birth? You’re going to leave her to raise a kid all by herself?”

Lois makes a valid point: did I really want to hurt Alice in that way? No, I didn’t.

I nod with the rest of the group. “You’re right, Lois. It was a stupid idea.”

After our smokes, we zip up our suits and head to our homes. None of our families has learned of our illegal activity. Maybe I’ll tell my kid one day. If I live to see that day.

✚

When I arrive home, I believe it’s business as usual. Alice is up in bed and after I remove my shoes (you gotta be careful in this life), I go and give her my greeting kiss. But she doesn’t kiss me back.

“Where were you?” she snapped.

I stop moving. For 3 years she has never asked me where I go. I think her pregnancy is making her cranky.

“Groceries,” I lied.

She clutches the heart locket I gave her as our first anniversary present. I don’t know why I gave her that stupid locket. It was my mother’s, to be honest. But I switched the pictures of her and dad to Alice and me. We’re both holding ice cream cones. I took the photo (well, some stranger did) on our first date. Don’t ask me why I took the photo. I guess I thought if the photo was taken that maybe Alice and I would stay together. I hadn’t been very lucky in love before her.

“I know what you were doing,” she said still clutching the necklace. “You went out on your little smoke break.” I don’t say anything. I don’t want her to know she’s caught me in a lie. “I know you’ve been doing it for years. I just never said anything. But now, we have a baby on the way and I can’t have you breaking the rules so you can hang with your friends.”

“Why would I go on smoke breaks? I haven’t smoked in years.”

“I can smell it on you!”

Shit, I thought. I usually shower before I go upstairs. Obviously, to get rid of the stale smoke smell. But Alice already knew. How did she know?

“I’ve watched you leave and come back. Sometimes you even throw your smokes into the plants before you come up the stairs to greet me.”

Busted, I thought.

“Alice…”

“Don’t Alice me.”

“Honey, you’re delusional. Are you having one of your headaches?” My hand reached for her forehead, but she swatted it away. “I’m fine, thank you. I know what I’ve seen. But you can’t keep smoking now that I’m preg—”

I stop. The mattress has suddenly become very wet. “Did your…?”

“Yes.”

Shit, I thought. I’m having a baby now. Calling an ambulance now is a bitch. There are so many precautions. My child is being born and I hope he lives. I hope someone saves us from this travesty. Maybe you will, dear reader. Maybe you’ll fix this world. I hope you will, my son.