by Jamie Knight
Later in the afternoon, he texts me back.
"Are you free this evening?"
My heart pounds excitedly.
"Yes. Whatever time is good for you," I reply.
His text back is just as fast.
"We can meet at the park around 5 or 6 pm, maybe walk for an hour two before it gets dark?" He even texts me the directions. Fortunately, it's not too far from where I live
"Sounds perfect to me! See you there."
I put my phone down, then run to my room in excitement. I’m in a hurry to get ready, but I want to make sure I look perfect. I try on my outfit and make sure I want to wear it.
After I'm ready, it’s 4:30 pm. I decide to head out; the park is still a few minutes’ walk from my house. Besides, I'm hoping that the fresh air will make me feel a little better.
Chapter 7 - Chris
It's around 5 pm, and I'm standing at the entrance to the park. I feel excited and a little nervous, but I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm worried that she won't show up. I know I shouldn't be worried about that, though.
She texted me that she was on her way already. I can honestly admit that these past few days of working and talking with her have been fun; though nothing compares to seeing her in person, I'm glad that we still found out a way to communicate with each other. I don't know how I would have gotten through the weeks without some way of talking to her.
I look up from my thoughts and see her walking towards me. I can't keep the smile from my face. I wave to her and she waves back. She walks over and stands in front of me.
"Hello,” she says.
She sounds a little out of breath. I'm happy to see her, but I notice something is wrong with her face. It looks pale but flushed at the same time.
"Are you ok?" I ask, concerned.
"Oh, yes. I just hurried over here because I didn't want to be late, and I'm nervous and excited. I think I walked a little too fast, though," she says.
I don't think that's the real reason for her looking this way, but I decide to let the matter drop. What she said was cute and sweet; the thought of her being excited to see me makes me so happy.
She covers her mouth and coughs a little.
"Excuse me. I'm sorry, I have no idea where that came from," she says, embarrassed.
I chuckle a little and say, "Well, if you do have the virus, then we'll have to be quarantined together, since you exposed me to it."
She smiles and laughs at my joke, and I feel happy again. Honestly, it wouldn't matter to me if she did have the virus. I want to take care of her and keep her safe.
We turn and walk slowly into the park. She glances at me occasionally as we talk. I watch her looking around, taking in all the sights. There aren’t too many people out, and we do our best to keep our distance from the others that we do run into.
"So, grading the assignments is easy?" I ask her.
She nods her head, looking more at the ground than at me.
"Yes, much easier than I thought it would be. Thanks again for allowing me to take such a big responsibility in all of this,” she says with a smile.
I shrug my shoulders in response.
"It’s nothing. Like I said, you're extremely gifted in this line of work, and you're making my job easier." Again, she blushes at my compliments.
"I noticed that most students in your class are really bright. They seem to be getting exceptional scores on each assignment,” she says. "Is that because you're such a great teacher?"
I laugh, causing her to smile.
"Thank you for that compliment. I have noticed that as well. I have been thinking of recommending some of them for advanced classes, but that may have to wait awhile because of the closure," I say.
I'm a little saddened by that thought.
She clears her throat softly.
"Speaking of that, how long do you think that will last?" she asks quietly.
The sky grows a little darker as we walk.
"I honestly don't know. People have a history of being scared, so even a simple thing can cause a mass panic or frenzy," I say with a shrug.
She nods.
"I guess you're right. It’s uncertain. Everything about this world is right now,” she says, sounding a little sad.
I don't like this mood that we’re in, so I try to change the subject.
"Have you ever been here before?" I ask her.
She shakes her head.
"No. You would think I had because I live close by, but I'm more of an indoor person. I like to read, write, and watch TV,” she says with a little smile.
"Is that what you’ve been up to today?" I ask her.
She blushes and nods.
I smile. “It’s funny, because I was doing the same thing, too."
We both laugh and look around. The sun is really starting to go down now. We turn around and walk back to the park entrance. "Would you like me to walk you home?" I ask politely.
"Oh, no, that's ok. I just live a few blocks over,” she says. I don't take offense to this; I know she is just being considerate. As we walk, I notice that I can hear her breathing funny. I don't comment on it, though.
We get back to the entrance of the park. "Well, thank you for the lovely evening. It was good to get out and get some air and talk with you,” she says, looking at me.
I smile at her. "I feel the same way,” I say.
We both stand there awkwardly for a few minutes. When we look at each other, we can't control ourselves. We embrace, quickly but strongly. Our lips find each other. It's a quick, fierce kiss. We both pull away and look embarrassed.
"I’m so sorry that this keeps happening," Stacey says in shock. I'm not. I reach for her again, giving her a passionate French kiss. She pulls away from me, her face flush with embarrassment and excitement.
"Say, will you go out with me next week?" I ask breathlessly.
She agrees silently. I kiss her again, then gently let her go. I watch as she waves and walks away. Once she is out of sight, I turn and walk in the direction of my home. I couldn't be happier with how things turned out today.
Chapter 8 - Stacey
It's the next day after my date with Mr. Winston. Last night, I rushed home after my date. I didn't even bother to glance at my work; I just drank some cold medicine and went straight to bed.
I slept in the clothes I had worn on our walk outside. When I wake up, I want to cry out in frustration. I feel so much worse than I did yesterday.
How could this be possible?
I think this is the worst I have ever felt.
I can't take these feelings.
I pull on a coat, despite the weather outside, deciding that I need to go to the hospital. Maybe they can give me some antibiotics or something else to clear this up. I hope it's nothing serious, but I have never felt this bad before.
I don't know how I am able to do it in my condition, but I manage to drive to the hospital. I park my car and walk as quickly as I can inside.
I give my name to the receptionist and sit down to fill out the insurance papers. It’s such a tedious process. After I turn them in to her, I wait for the doctor to call me.
I feel so miserable as I sit there, waiting. I look around the room, seeing that there is quite a crowd of people here. Some of them seem to be in way worse shape than me.
After what seems like an hour, they finally call me back. I'm led into a room, where the doctor checks my temperature. He looks at me, a little worried.
"Do you have any other symptoms?" he asks as he continues to examine me.
"Well…" I say, then I explain to him about my fatigue, and how I have the aches.
After checking me, he makes notes on his clipboard.
"Well, Stacey, I think we are going to have to run some tests to figure out exactly what is wrong here,” he says.
"Um, ok," I say.
I'm in no mood to protest or argue. I just want to feel better again.
He calls a nurse, who leads me out of the room. The doctor prepares a c
hart on me and hands it to her. I follow the nurse down the hall to a separate room. She seats me in a chair and exits quietly. A few moments later, another nurse walks in, carrying my chart. She's wearing a mask and gloves.
"This will be over really quick, and then we'll get you back out to the waiting room,” she says.
I look at her and nod. I don’t feel like talking. I extend my arm as she prepares her syringe and swabs. She wipes my arm before proceeding to draw a few vials of blood. I feel a little fainter than before. Once she is finished, she bandages my arm, then labels the vials. She calls in the other nurse, who escorts me out to the waiting room.
"The doctor will call you back once we have your results,” she says.
"Ok, I'll be here," I say, in a lame attempt to make a joke.
Instead of sitting once she leaves, I walk down the hall. I find a water fountain and take a big gulp. My throat feels very dry and scratchy. I'm trying so hard not to cough. I still feel faint, so I go to the bathroom and splash a little water on my face.
Afterwards, I walk to the vending machines. Maybe food is what I need, even though I'm not hungry. I settle on a pack of crackers. I take them back to my seat and nibble on them.
The crackers stick to my throat, making the scratchy feeling worse, but the salt feels good and calms my stomach. I stare off into space as I wait to talk to the doctor again. He finally calls me back. The look on his face has me worried.
"So, what’s wrong with me, doctor?" I ask, a little breathless.
He looks at all his papers, then up at me.
"Things are not good,” he says.
He motions for me to sit in front of him, while he does the same. "We got your test results back. It appears that you have tested positive for COVID-19. I'm sorry,” he says.
I stare at him in shock. I'm in disbelief. There is no way this can be happening.
"The best thing for you to do is to go home and isolate until the symptoms have disappeared. If you have been in contact with anyone, you should probably let them know as well,” he says.
All I can do is nod. I'm not even paying attention to what he’s saying. I get into my car and drive home in a daze. As I get into my apartment, I lie on my couch and stare at the ceiling. I feel so sad and depressed. How did this happen? How did I get it?
I sit up suddenly as a thought occurs to me. Mr. Winston! I was in contact with him. I need to let him know that I could have infected him. I stare at my phone. I don't know if I have the heart to tell him that; I'm afraid that I might upset him, or that he won't want anything to do with me anymore.
I can't even bring myself to look at my phone. I mute the ringer and leave it on the charger. Instead, I spend my time sleeping and working. I keep grading the assignments and forwarding them to him.
He writes little notes with them when he sends them back to me, but I don't even bother to read them. After five straight days of this behavior, I finally look at all my text messages. They are from him, expressing his worry or concern, wondering if he did something wrong.
"Maybe another walk sometime?" one of his texts read.
I declined. "I'm weighed down with work at that moment."
“Have I offended you in some way?”
I couldn't bring myself to reply, so I just ignored that message.
I pick up the phone and open the text. I know I can’t put it off any longer. I really do care about Mr. Winston, and I miss him. More importantly, his health is at stake right now because of me. I summon all my strength and courage.
Instead of texting, I hit the call button. I take a deep breath as the phone connects and starts ringing. I don't want him to worry or hurt anymore, and I'm worried that my refusal of his date may have done that.
Being honest with him is the only way to fix the situation.
Chapter 9 - Chris
I'm busy looking over one of the papers that Stacey forwarded me. She graded it correctly, as always. I spent the morning drinking coffee and working out in my living room. I'm surprised that I haven't heard from her in a while. I don't even know if she got my last text message.
I don't think I did anything to offend her or push her away, but I’m not sure. Maybe kissing her like that in public was rushing into things, but I don't think it bothered her. At least, it didn't seem like it did.
I get up to fix myself some lunch; it's already the afternoon. No more work has come through yet, which worries me a little bit. I'm carrying my chips and sandwich back to the living room when my phone rings. I put my food down. Looking at the caller ID, I hurry to answer it.
"Stacey, is everything ok?" I ask worriedly. It's a surprise that she’s called me.
"Um, hi. Um, no, not really," she says in a hesitant tone.
"Whatever’s wrong, you can tell me," I say, reassuring her.
I can hear her take a deep breath on the phone before she continues talking. "Well, first, I want to apologize for ignoring you and cancelling our date. It's not that I didn't want to see you, it's just that… I didn't know how to say this to you."
“Just say it.”
"Well, I haven't been feeling good for a few days. Yesterday, it got worse, so I went to the hospital. I got tested, and they told me I have COVID-19. I needed to tell you so that you can get tested too."
She starts to cry. I sit there in silence. I'm both shocked and saddened by this news. However, I don't like hearing Stacey cry like this.
"It's ok, Stacey. It's nothing to worry about. I'm not upset at you. I'm glad you told me, because like you said, I can get tested now. Don't cry. I’ll call you later, ok?"
"Ok, bye." She hangs up with a sob.
I sigh and look around the room. I don't feel like I have any symptoms, but I still need to get to the hospital. I grab my phone, wallet, and keys and rush out the door, my lunch and work remaining forgotten for now.
I spend the whole drive to the hospital worrying about Stacey, rather than myself. After I arrive, I explain to the nurse that I might have been exposed. They take me to see a doctor immediately.
I'm tested very quickly, despite having no visible symptoms. I'm sent back into the waiting room to wait for my test results. Honestly, I'm not too worried about it; I feel fine. I'm more concerned about Stacey because she sounds like her sickness is getting worse. I wonder if there’s anything I can do to help her.
A few seconds later, the doctor talks to me. I'm relieved to hear him say, "Your results are negative. You're free to go. Just be extra careful who you come into contact with."
I leave the hospital and drive home. I call Stacey quickly to tell her.
“Wow! That's such a relief,” she says happily. She still sounds sick, and that worries me.
"Yes, it is. Go ahead and rest. I'll handle the rest of the work," I say.
"No, it's my job. I like to help,” she says, even though she starts coughing after saying it.
"No, you need to rest. As soon as you are well, you can work again," I say firmly.
"Ok. You're right," she says weakly after she is done coughing.
"Good. I'll call later to check on you. Get some rest now," I say softly.
"Ok, I will,” she says before hanging up.
I smile as I put the phone down and finish driving home. Once I get home, I quickly shower and change. It’s almost evening now. I sit in front of my computer and devour my leftover sandwich, which was still good.
I clean up my dishes and go back to the living room to check my email. I see that Stacey forwarded me all the assignments so I can grade them. I type her a quick text. "Thank you for sending me all the work. I hope you are resting, as instructed."
She texts back quickly. "Yes, doctor, I am. Haha. Don't work too hard."
I laugh at her text and put the phone away. I don't want to bother her further. It takes an hour to grade these assignments; after, I enter them into the online grade book, where the students can view them.
This is an all-night process, as some students email questions about their g
rades or the assignments. When I finish and move onto grading the next half, it's well after midnight. I post the next day's assignment before heading to bed.
I wake up early in the morning, going through my routine of showering and exercising. After I eat a quick breakfast, I sit in front of the computer.
I'm up early because I'm waiting for an announcement from the principal regarding the decision about reopening the school. I receive an email saying that the announcement will be made later this afternoon. The school district needs additional time to discuss and come to a decision.
“Please check your email later for this announcement," the email concluded, and I sigh as I read it; I was hoping to know right away. Well, there's nothing I can do about that.
The rest of the day is spent grading more assignments and answering a phone call from a parent regarding additional help or resources for a student who is having a hard time with the online work. I make notes of ways that I can help them.
Around two in the afternoon, I finally receive the email from the principal.
It reads: "Dear teachers and staff, we are sorry to inform you that, due to the rising fears and risks of the current pandemic, schools will be closed for the remainder of the year." I'm so sad to read this. I think about my students, and about Stacey.
I quickly reach for my phone and text her about this. She responds quickly. "This is sad news. What are we going to do? The kids are going to be so sad." I can feel her sadness and worry in that message.
"Don't worry. Things will be fine. Just keep resting, and I'll keep handling the work."
She texts back: "Okay."
I hope my words did the trick and calmed her. I focus on grading papers once more.
The days fall into a similar routine. I implemented a new strategy of sharing helpful links or videos with the students who need a more detailed explanation of each assignment; this seems to help them out a great deal.
I'm starting to feel a little sadder these days. I miss going to the school. I miss my students. I miss Stacey most of all. I think about her every day. I always text her and check in on her, but it's not the same.