1
What if the warmth and comfort of home do not wait at the end of a journey? Connecting flights and two stopovers added up to almost thirty long, exhausting hours. And still, tensions were barely relaxed knowing what was yet to come. It was not the inconvenience that bothered me because that could be ignored. It was the weight of knowledge that no amount of caution could promise favorable results. Endurance is key, fingers crossed, I told myself. Hope is the only means to go through, hope that the toll will not be too high and everything in the end will be worth it.
2
Knock, knock.
Who is it?
Knock, knock.
Wait... wait, I’m coming.
Water refill?
Uh-oh, no.
Done with dinner?
Yes. The plate…
Leave it. Need anything else?
No… no, I-I think I’m good.
What about medicine? How’s the fever?
I don’t have a fever... I didn’t have any… it was only a cold… that late evening shower…
Silence.
It was no fever, just a little cold. I’m telling you…
Ok. But you need to get rid of that long hair.
Well…
Don’t need a barber. Will bring scissors tomorrow.
I don’t know…
Anyway. So, no medicine?
No, I… (Cough)
What’s the matter? Are you fine?
Yes, yes… I-I’m good. I promise. A little cough and cold. That’s all. Nothing to worry…
Silence, door locked, footsteps recede.
3
What day is it? Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, Thursday, Sunday, Saturday. The Godfather effect. Ha-ha. Seriously it doesn’t matter. Confined, what good does it do to know the day of the week? But how many days has it been? Better not to know. Better not to feel disappointed. Better not to go stir-crazy.
4
The Lonely Shepherd soundtrack from Kill Bill is playing somewhere.
Yeah, I can hear it too. It’s nice, isn’t it? Got to love that movie too. Classic Tarantino!
But where is it coming from?
Do you remember the sequence of the soundtrack? Was it in Volume 1 or 2?
Shut up. Shut up for a minute. Let me think. Wait, it has stopped.
Why get so worked up? You can ask next time he or she brings food.
Yeah, and also ask to get my private space shuttle ready for a trip to Mars. Nice, huh?
No need to bite my head off. I was just suggesting.
Now was it someone playing the soundtrack? Odd taste in music, surely. Or, was the movie coming on TV? Why has it stopped? Why? How can I know?
It’s a puzzle. But trying to figure it out sure beats running conversations in my head.
Ssssh, silly. Do you want anyone to hear you talk aloud, and with no one to speak back?
I wasn’t talking aloud. I’m not stupid. It’s all only in my head. Huh.
Ha-ha, as if that makes it any better. Anyway, what was I saying?
5
The room is dark. Is it morning, noon, or night? I can go and maybe take a peep through the window shutter. But who has the energy to do all that only to tell day from night? How can it even matter? But dark is bad. So, switch on the light. The room is not dark then anymore. The nightmares cannot get you now. They are not real.
6
Water refill?
Uh-oh, yes.
Will bring it with lunch.
Yes. Ok.
What were you up to?
N-nothing much.
Did you exercise?
Errr…
What about walking around the room?
Uh-oh, no.
It’s a good habit. Try it, will you? It’s not that you can go out for a walk.
Y-yes. N-no… I-I’ll try.
You should. Ok, if nothing else…
W-what about water?
You need it now?
N-no. Later is fine.
Sure?
Y-yes.
Ok, then.
7
Looking at the mirror, it’s hard to imagine the face staring back is mine. It’s familiar and yet it’s not. The abundant facial hair and the long unruly strands on the head give a scarier effect than my usual personal style. And whose are those batshit eyes, red and shifty? Is this me? Have I really morphed into this crazy-looking weirdo? Stop this madness, please. Please let me wake up.
8
Snip. Snip. Snip.
Why didn’t you cut your hair? I left the scissors days ago. Turn your head this way…
Snip. Snip.
Happy birthday, Dad.
Thank you, son.
So, what are your plans today, Dad?
Same old. My daily routine.
I was thinking of getting a cake.
Not today. This isn’t a good time.
Why, dad? I can place an order online.
No, forget it.
It would be something to look forward to. Why don’t you understand, Dad? I need something to do, to think, to plan so that it wouldn’t feel all impossible, hopeless...
A few more days, son. It’s almost over. And then…
And then… what will happen then? Will everything be back to normal? Like before, as it used to be?
No. But, at least, you’ll be… out.
Ha-ha. Just like it sounds inside my head. I’m in prison. And I’m up for parole.
What are you saying? A prison? That’s what you think this is? A prison?
What else?
It’s for your own safety, son. And ours, your mother’s and mine. It’s a necessary precaution.
A necessary evil, you mean.
But the situation… you must try to understand…
Yeah, yeah. The pandemic circus. The pandemonium. I know. I traveled thousands of miles to get home, Dad. And now I’m confined, imposed with a hundred suffocating restrictions. I sometimes doubt if it’s all real.
It’s real. Let me tell you…
Not interested, dad. Just tell me when it’s time.
Yes, only a few more days now. You don’t know, son, you cannot imagine how much your mother and I are also waiting for all of this to be over.
Whatever.
9
Something different about today. I could feel it the moment I opened my eyes. Maybe for a fleeting second, I was confused, as usual, about the time of the day or even what day it was. And then I saw the sunlight streaming into my room through the wide-open windows. I suddenly knew what day it was. It was Tuesday, the end of my days of quarantined isolation.
Two things on my bedside table caught my eye. I picked up the infrared thermometer first. The temperature read 96.6. Perfect. My fingers caressed the second item from the table. I absolutely, desperately needed to go out by myself for a few minutes, even if to only stroll up and down the alley. I put on the mask and smiled for the first time in weeks.
10
The memories of those days and nights of forced loneliness have somewhat faded with time. What has remained is the takeaway of the human condition. We are not built to be alone. No man is an island sounds pithy and wise but only experience can teach the full meaning of the sentiment. As long as we know we have the power to choose company or solitude, the face that we put on while saying we need to be left alone is the mask.
