Fiction
The Curses and Blessings of Covid19
How to Cope with a “Stranger” during Lockdown
The silence is shattered by the big bang when Tamsin slamed the front door shut. Sounds of her handling packages followed.
“For goodness sakes Tamsin, do you have to make such a noise? Can’t you ever enter quietly? I’m trying to get some work done.”
“If you’d care to help me with the groceries I wouldn’t have to slam the door shut with my foot. I have only two hands, you know.”
His concentration shattered, Jonathan closed his laptop, went to the kitchen and switched on the kettle. He took two cups from the cupboard and scooped instant coffee into each cup. He added sugar and poured boiled water, then milk. Tamsin ignored the coffee, took a glass and poured herself some juice.
She is in one of her foul moods again, Jonathan thought as he took his cup and went to the balcony. Of course yelling at her did not help, he realised. Thank goodness tomorrow is Monday. Then he can get back to the office and get on with life again. He sipped his coffee and watched the foot traffic below. If he didn’t have to finish that piece of work, he’d go for a walk.
By the time Jonathan re-seated himself in front of his computer, Tamsin was reclining in the living room watching TV. After a while he joined her to catch up on the latest about the Corona virus news.
“This Covid19 business is getting on my nerves. It is the only thing they report on these days,” Tamsin said.
“Yea, but it seems like things are getting serious. Even here the infection rate is rising. It’s a good thing we can both work from home if we have to.”
“Don’t even consider that possibility. I’ll die if I can’t get out of this cramped little apartment. Anyway, I doubt it will come to that.” She flipped the channels, but gave up trying to find something entertaining when the only movie showing, was halfway through already. Yawning and stretching, she got up and went to bed.
It was a busy week for both of them. Tamsin left the apartment just after dawn, Jonathan an hour later. At night they would both sit at their computers in the spare room that they had transformed into a home office of sorts. There was always work that had to be completed at home.
After a quick bite of warmed up frozen food they’d watch TV together for a while. He usually went to bed watching sports programs on the little black-and-white TV set in the bedroom while Tamsin stayed in the living room reading or watching Reality TV. With less than fifty words exchanged between them, they would fall asleep, each on his/her own side of the bed. Married for five years, they were now almost like total strangers to each other.
Almost. Strangers don’t fight. They did. It usually started early in the morning. If they talked to each other at all, it were hardly ever amicable exchange. After work the fighting might continue where it left of, or there might be silence, one ignoring the other. Both tried to spend as much time away from home, either at the office, of having a drink with friends after work.
And then it happened. In a special bulletin the President of the country announced total lockdown. If you don’t render essential service, you are not to go to work. If you get caught on the street for any other purpose than buying food, doing banking, refueling your car or seeking medical attention, you will be fined or arrested.
The first few days Jonathan and Tamsin tried to be civilised towards each other. Realising they had no where to go, they tried to make the best of it. They made breakfast together, ate together and spent the rest of the day watching breaking news about Covid19. In between they fought. Tamsin raved and ranted about how unfair life was, Justin tried to calm her down, and that agitated her so that she would carry on even more. Then the silent treatment followed. At least they were talking to each other, even thought much of that ended in screaming.
They slept a lot. Getting up later each passing day, sleeping in front of the TV, taking an afternoon nap, they became lethargic and listless, punctuated by periods of arguing. Everything Jonathan did, irritated her. Most of what Tamsin did, frustrated him. The most insignificant thing could trigger an argument. So they got to know each other. They tried to avoid each other, but in a small apartment, that was close to impossible. Jonathan spent a lot of time on the balcony. They tried to avoid doing what made each other mad, but often failed.
On the ninth morning of lockdown Tamsin got up with good intentions not to fight. She was going to make breakfast and spoil Jonathan with his favourite dish. She went to the bathroom. Her foot got stuck in a towel he had left on the floor, she tripped, the other foot slipped in a puddle and she almost did a split.
“Jonathan!” she screamed. “You idiot!. Why can’t you clean up after yourself?How many times must I tell you not to leave your towel on the floor?” As soon as this lockdown is over I’m moving out, she thought.
So much for wanting to surprise her with her favourite breakfast in bed, he thought. She wouldn’t appreciate it anyways. First thing after the lockdown is over I’ll pack my bags and go, he promised himself, rushing to the bathroom to see if she was hurt. Her one foot was hurting a little, but she was too furious to accept his help. She rubbed her foot, it was not badly twisted, and struggled up by herself.
I cannot do this any more, I cannot do this any more, I cannot do this any more. I gotta get out of this apartment. This Covid19 is a curse bigger than a virus making people sick. It will make us all die of boredom and frustration. Hopping on one foot, she called out to Jonathan: “I think I sprained my ankle. I think I need to see a doctor. Will you drive me?”
“Sure, but let’s have breakfast first.” While she was doing her ablutions, he managed to finish the surprise breakfast he had planned for her, not knowing she had the same intentions. They ate, she smiled, not only about the prospect of getting out of the apartment, but at his thoughtfulness of preparing, and sharing with her this wonderful meal.
Back from the clinic Jonathan helped her into her easy chair and offered coffee. Both were in high spirits. No one ever before, considered going to see a doctor as an outing. After nine days of isolation, to them this trip was a treat. To make it better, the doctor told her t come back in two days.
Five days later, Tamsin felt the need to see a doctor again. A headache was brewing. Another two days and she wanted a pregnancy test. No reason to suspect she might be pregnant, but it was an excuse to get out. So, off to the pharmacy they went.
Banking offered a great way to get out of the apartment. Either Tamsin or Jonathan, sometimes both, often felt the need to check their accounts, get statements or do totally unnecessary inquiries. Passing their favourite coffee shop on the way to the bank made them glance longingly at the closed doors, hoping some day they would be allowed to sit inside again, sipping the best coffee in town.
Getting home they would giggle about their outing and start planning the next trip. The bread is finished. Milk or sugar the next day. Planning their trips out of the apartment allowed them to grow closer, they learned to appreciate each other again. Like it was when they first fell in love.
The period of lockdown was extended. Two more weeks. It did not concern this couple much. They had their ways of escaping and best of all, they rediscovered each other. Four days into the extended lockdown period, Jonathan took his car keys and asked Tamsin if she was coming along. The car needed fuel. Hesitating, she declined and he went out alone. That was a good thing.
A block from the fuel station, Jonathan ran into a road block. He tried to relax; after all he had a good, valid reason to be out of his home.
“Good morning, Sir,” the officer greeted sternly, “may I ask your reason to be on the street?”
“Good morning. Certainly, Sir, I need to refuel my car. Though I don’t drive often, or far, the gas is running low and I’m on my way to the fuel station over there.” He indicated to the officer in the direction where he was headed. Jonathan was confident his reason would be accepted. But the officer was not easily convinced.”
“May I see your fuel gauge?” No, no,no he thought.
“Certainly.”
Defeated, he allowed the officer to have a look at the fuel gauge, which indicated an almost full tank.
After fifty minutes, Tamsin began to worry. Jonathan should have been home by now. She was dialing his number when he walked through the door. His face told the story.
“Honey, what’s wrong? What happened?”
“I ran into a road block. The officer didn’t believe me when I told him I need fuel. One look at the fuel gauge and he decided I was out on a joy ride. Of course he was right, but I was going to fill up.”
“And? …” He took a document from his breast pocket and handed it to her.
“Two hundred? You have to pay a fine of two hundred bucks?”
“Yep, but that’s the good news. If you were with me, it would have been worse. We’d both be arrested.”
“Honey, we’re getting overly confident. We must be very careful in future.” He thought she’d be furious, but instead she stretched out her arms and held him close. They embraced for a long time, wanting to cry, but started giggling instead. They kissed and cuddled like they haven’t done in months.
“If we were not confined to this little space, our little space, we might have drifted apart further until we ended in a split-up. Irreversibly. And regretted it for the rest of our lives. Beside the horrors of this virus, it also brought us, and who knows whom else, the blessing of rediscovery.”
Jonathan looked down into her eyes: “I love you so much.”
“I love you more,” she smiled.
“Let’s go make coffee and celebrate the blessings that the isolation, caused by Covid19 bestowed upon us”.
“And life and health. Let’s be thankful and celebrate life.”
Magdel Roets.
Writer of fiction, non-fiction and poetry.
Charter member of Author Masterminds where every reader is a friend and every author approachable.
https://authormasterminds.com/magdel-roets