What does someone’s reaction to the current situation say about that person?
If I see someone visiting the supermarket in gloves and a mask… is that person overreacting? Is he being smart? Is she being cautious… maybe she has symptoms and does not want to infect us? If someone walks too close to me, reaching across the aisle to pick up some cherries… is he being obnoxious? Or maybe just careless? Or lost in thought, consumed in his own world of worries?
Should I be wearing a mask too, and am I being judged for not? If I do not feel sick but do wear a mask, will I be judged for doing so? For using up scarce resources much-needed elsewhere?
If I see you coming toward me and change my path a bit to the left… if I avoid hugging you or shaking your hand… if I avoid meeting you in person… am I doing so to protect myself? Or to protect you… from me? Or to protect us?
If I urge you to take the situation seriously… am I panicking or am I being smart? If I continue leaving home to take walks or invite my cousin over to play Jenga because I know how much she loves to play Jenga, am I taking my own advice – of taking the situation seriously –seriously?
I see my neighbors as I wait in the parking structure for the elevator to come. I hear their lively voices as they approach me around the corner. They see me… and stop. I look at them, carrying grocery bags, one in each hand. They are wearing gloves. And a mask. And scuba-diving goggles. Both of them. Did they stop because I’m there? Because I may be carrying the virus? Because they felt weird seeing someone they know seeing them in their protective gear? Did they stop because I looked too long without saying anything… was I staring?
“Crazy times,” he says.
“Yeah,” I respond, with a sheepish sigh that could have been taken for grief, but was actually for relief that the silence was broken.
“They say there are people in the building.”
There are people in the building… A statement with an obvious meaning on its face takes a twist in the face of twisted times… he didn’t mean that there are people physically present in the building. He was referring to infected people. Annoyed at the heretical prefix of “they say,” I still knew immediately what he meant.
“Really?” I offered. “Which floor?”, as an incognito challenge to his elusive source.
“Ours…” he shot back with a look behind his googles which exuded neither fear nor nonchalance, yet both at the same time.
“Oh, wow. I hope it’s not me and I’m unaware of it.” I respond with a forced chuckle, catching me on the thought that what I just said could very well be true.
The elevator bell rings.
He turns to her, “Should we take the stairs?”, as if seeking legitimization of his plan of action, as if placing the burden of that decision on her – not as an escape from responsibility, not out of social courtesy, but possibly acknowledging the very fusion of fear and forced nonchalance that underlay the look in his eyes a moment ago – not knowing which one to respect and which to ignore.
The door to the stairs close before the elevator’s.
Seriously… scuba diving goggles? I balked in my mind. Voicelessly speaking to myself, I find myself in front of our apartment door already, not realizing how I got there. I get in, place my bags on the floor, and starte sharing this recent episode with Aida in amusement… as I hear the stairway doors close and open, and footsteps approach along the corridor.
It’s them.
I heard them walking… so, did they hear me telling this story? Did I use any obvious words, like “gloves” or “googles” or “people in the building… on our floor”? I wasn’t yelling, surely they didn’t hear a thing.
I continue telling the story, making sure I avoid using any English or international words. The steps had long passed.
Were my neighbors being smart? Were they overreacting? Was I judging them, and could that ever be justified? Especially in this situation? Did fear lead them to this… and, if so, fear for themselves… or a loved one that they may expose themselves too? Maybe a toddler at home? Maybe an elderly they give care to?
Were they judging me? Was I being too careless? When does one stop being care-free and start being care-less? Can one be careful and care-free?
Maybe the prospect I had voiced earlier, about me having the virus but not knowing about it… wasn’t a prospect at all?
So… if I refused to shake your hand, what would you think of me now?
Chronicles 