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siriannatan · 1 year

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Jinn & Other Troubles part 2

AO3 link for anyone who prefers to read there.

Figuring out if I wanted to go the original route of following fWhip's 'hunt' or Pix and Jimmy's shopping day took me forever…

The next chapter might be a Scott and Sausage intermission. But who knows? I don't.

Jimmy woke up a little bit confused as to where he was. He was on a very big and comfy bed. Definitely not his new, pretty bare-bones apartment. As he sat up, yawning and blinking the reminder of sleep off his eyes caught a slightly familiar, embroidered with golden thread dark blue overcoat. Pixl. The Copper King. He found him and didn't die. And he was nowhere to be seen. But there were clothes and a note saying that they are for him. Temporarily. So he got dressed and went to the other room, hoping to find Pix there.

There was no Pix in the other room but there was his right-hand man. The tiefling bartender of the Vigil, fWhip. Clearly waiting for Jimmy with breakfast.

"Morning. Boss is getting some stuff out of the way, said he'll be taking you shopping once he's done," fWhip explained, pulling out a notebook. "I need your old address to take care of that and bring your stuff here and deal with other stuff to do with it," he said as Jimmy numbly sat down by the table full of breakfast foods. He was a bit shocked that fWhip was friendly with him. It could be just Pix being a scary jinn. "Boss ate already. Wanted me to say he's sorry he didn't wait for ya'."

Jimmy gave his address to the tiefling a bit hesitantly. "What's wrong?" he asked at fWhip's slightly shocked expression. Quickly fixed and hidden away but not quickly enough.

"Nothing. You just don't look like you're from Lower Stratos is all," fWhip shrugged noting it down. "Anything you really want from your old place?"

"There's nothing I'm super attached to there," Jimmy shrugged. He really didn't want Pix to know how little there was in his apartment...

"Well, I'm going to have to go there anyway so try to think," fWhip shrugged. "All along a few other errands for Pix so don't worry about wasting my time," he added with a sharp grin.

"Okay... just don't tell Pix much about it... okay?" he tried asking. "I don't like it much and I don't think he would and... he's already doing a lot and you're involved now and... I don't want to waste anyone's time..."

"You're not," fWhip assured with a grin. "Certainly not mine, you're doing an important thing here, keeping Pixl happy. He was closer than ever to letting me stick a few too many knives in Joey," he explained. "You can ignore him if you ever see him. He's only alive because Pix needs him, once he isn't needed anymore he better stay away," he grinned and Jimmy only nodded, a bit stiffly.

"Oh... I see..." that was... new. "So... what do I do if he's in bad mood?" he asked. fWhip was not as bad as he thought. So keeping Pix happy was something he'd have to keep in mind. He was starting to like fWhip. Even if he looked a bit scary he wasn't as scary as Pix.

"Well, he did say to give you a tour," fWhip grinned showing off his tiny fangs. "Finish eating first."

Once Jimmy was done eating, and his outfit fixed and deemed 'good enough' by fWhip they proceeded with the official tour.

"My rooms are up those stairs," fWhip said pointing to the stairs leading the opposite way the ones up to Pix's room and the office.

"If Pixl is angry, either kiss him or, bring him his favourite whiskey, we don't sell it to normal customers and there's always a bottle here," he pointed to an unlabeled bottle, as he showed Jimmy around the bar. Jimmy quickly recognised as the one Pix dragged about last evening. "What if any customer asks for it?" Jimmy asked. fWhip wasn't so bad if he wasn't being annoyed.

"Then I ask if they wish for an audience with the Copper King," fWhip grinned. "If they insist I take them to the back and torture them. That's the other thing I do, make anyone who annoys Pix too much suffer a lot before they die," he explained. "You're fine, by the way. I like you, you keep Pix off my back."

"Thanks..." Jimmy nodded. He never wanted to be in fWhip's basement. Never ever. Even if, to his own surprise, he wasn't too bothered by the thought of fWhip torturing someone. Seeing that Pix is a jinn was probably even worse. And he was Pix's favourite, he probably didn't have to worry about fWhip that badly. "What if there is none here?"

"Good thinking," fWhip nodded. "Follow me, I have a secret room for the stuff just for him," fWhip grinned and led Jimmy to an only slightly dusty storage room.

They stopped in a room full of barrels and bottles and crates and boxes. It wasn't dusty or anything like that. The whole place was pretty clean and Jimmy suspected the tiefling kept it that way with magic... Just a hunch.

"Here," fWhip tapped on a seemingly random brick and a secret door opened. "I keep Pix's favourite so he doesn't drink it all at once," he grinned and Jimmy could not help but smile a bit. "Don't tell him about it but if your good looks ever fail to calm him come here and bring him a bottle, should calm him right down. Ya don't need magic to open it," he explained closing it up. "Stay close now," he warned and opened a door Jimmy at first missed. It might have not even been there not even a minute ago. Not that Jimmy paid much attention to things fWhip wasn't pointing out.

It led into a basement where most of the goons spend time waiting for orders or shifts as fWhip explained. Just hearing about goons had Jimmy sticking closer to fWhip. Hoping he was going to be fine. They passed another set of doors about halfway down, it went rather deep, but fWhip did not comment about it so Jimmy guessed it was probably the special basement...

"Don't take anything I say to heart, those guys are not paid to be smart," fWhip warned in a lowered voice before pushing a door at the bottom of the stairs open. "Listen up boys, meet Jimmy boss' new boy toy..."

Jimmy was a bit shocked but quickly returned to fWhip's earlier warning. It was to keep him safe and Pix from getting angry.

"You guys look at him wrong? I poke your eyes out. Talk to him out of wrong? I cut your tongue out. Touch him wrong? I chop your hands off. Is that clear?" fWhip listed of warnings reminding Jimmy what kind of organisation he was kind of a part of.

"Crystal, mister fWhip, sir," the goons nodded glancing at Jimmy, probably to remember, or try to, his face to not annoy their boss. And fWhip.

"Good. Bo, Be, I have errands that need some muscles so wait outside. De, the boss will be going shopping with Jimmy so you'll silently follow them and carry all the bags, wait outside for now," fWhip ordered and three goons quickly went up the stairs.

fWhip waited for a second, glaring at other goons before pointing Jimmy to go up the stairs back to the bar so they could wait for Pixl.

"Once again, sorry I called you that, some of those guys are not the smartest, and I don't want them messing with you," fWhip apologised once Jimmy was seated by the bar with a glass of water. "Angry Pix is a bad thing, for the city at large, I mean."

"It's fine, I understand," Jimmy assured him with a tiny smile. "I don't think you'll need two guys... there's not much in my apartment, as I said, I was kind of between things and..."

"Don't worry, as I said, I have other errands to run, they're mostly for that," fWhip chuckled. "And there's no need to be nervous. You're keeping Pixl happy, he nearly let me stab Joey. I really don't like him we kind of need him alive," he added while shuffling some bottles behind the bar.

"It's all new is all... I never thought I'd end up... I don't even know what to call it. Cuddle pillow? That's how last night felt at least," Jimmy sighed. He was starting to like fWhip. He was snippy, cared that he was safe, no matter the reasons, and was not afraid to laugh a bit at Pix's expense.

"I didn't plan to be a criminal either, so I get it," fWhip nodded leaning against the back counter. "He's really taking a lot of his time..." he grumbled and sighed.

"You didn't?" Jimmy asked not expecting an actual answer. He wasn't that close with fWhip. Not yet? "It's okay if you don't want to talk..."

"Never met a tiefling before?" fWhip asked with a, dare Jimmy say, fond chuckle. "No need to be nervous, I don't bite. Not provoked that is," fWhip chuckled showing his sharp teeth.

"No... Never. I'm sorry if I'm ever rude... The orphanage never cared much about manners..." Jimmy blabbered before he could stop himself. Not that the orphanage stuff was a secret. He just never before felt too comfortable talking about it at all.

"I'm going to guess you're not as old as Scott, he's also an elf, Pix sometimes hires him if our resources can't get us something or to someone. Or if he just feels like it," fWhip chuckled. "I have a feeling you're a bit like him, don't like 'proper' elves much?"

"Yeah... they're all jerks from what I gather..." Jimmy nodded relaxing a bit. Okay, okay. fWhip was a cool dude. "And I'm only like fifty... At least that's what I think it is based on what the orphanage said and..."

"Wow, we found second Scott before he got bitter," fWhip chuckled. "I sometimes wish my parents dropped me at an orphanage after I was born like this," he sighed. "Yeah, there were no tieflings in my family before me so it was something else that got me like this. My father thought I was a sign..."

"A sign?"

"Yeah, he had this theory our family came from the fallen nobility of old and that I was a gift from the gods," they both laughed at the ridiculousness of it. "Meant to bring the family to its old glory. Got even worse when my magic manifested, and nearly burned our neighbour's barn when their son was making fun of my growing horns," he stopped and focused on washing some glasses. He needed to wait for Pix to be done berating a certain elven pirate.

"What then?"

"I was sent to the big city the very next morning to apply for the big magic school," fWhip shrugged pointing vaguely in the direction of the Evermoore Academy. "But it turns out you need connections and money to study magic. With the door shut in my face, I could either go back home and disappoint everyone or stay in the city. I stayed, picked odd jobs here and there, practised on my own, and tried to save up for school. Send letters home saying it was all great, that I got in."

Jimmy stayed silent. Waiting if fWhip would continue talking or not.

"About a year later I picked a job for a guy called Copper King, he was already getting notorious in the underworld, don't judge, I was somewhat desperate and the criminals paid well for the services of a mage. Worked for him a few more times before actually meeting him, and he showed me his true nature and offered more stable work. I accepted, obviously. And the rest is history," fWhip grinned setting the last glass to dry.

"Getting sentimental there fWhip?" Pixl chuckled coming down from his office. The pirate following him with a mysterious but tense expression.

Jimmy completely ignored the elf in favour of cuddling up to Pix. He didn't seem to be in bad mood but he kind of missed the jinn. Even if he returned to looking human.

"The kid asked about me so I told him the dramatic history of my life," the tiefling grinned pulling out a heavy set of keys. "Out with you", he glared at the pirate.

fWhip watched from behind the bar as Pix talked to Jimmy. "I have one of the boys waiting to carry the shopping for you," he said before Pixl could even ask about it. "Go on, I still need to close up properly," he added.

"If you say so," Pixl chuckled and left with Jimmy in tow as fWhip waved after them.

"Have fun," he joked pulling out the keys to close the place down. The tiefling sighed once the boss was out. Jimmy was doing great at keeping his mood up. And even brought entertainment for him. In a better mood than he usually would be with a certain elven pirate in town, fWhip left the tavern locked it and, after eyeing both Bo and Be, their parents weren't the most creative when naming them, grinned even wider.

"Listen up boys," he said with hands on his hips. "We have an important task of finding the people who hurt boss' new favourite elf starting with his old house so no breaking anything."

"But 'is ears ain't pointy," Bo noticed like an oaf he was.

"Say something like this once more and there will be nothing left of you for the city guard to fish out of the bay," fWhip warned, his dark eyes narrowing. "Got it?"

"Yes sir," the two nodded and followed him to Jimmy's old apartment.

Stopping to double-check if he got the place right, fWhip understood why Jimmy didn't want Pix to know about this place. As he watched it and recalled the elf who walked in last night, it made no sense. It was even worse than he expected after Jimmy's story. His clothes, not fancy in any way, were too nice for this ramshackle place... Was it the side effect of the debt he was roped into? Something else? fWhip was very curious, and his hands were itching to get his hands on whoever was responsible... The elf was just so likeable. And likely as naive.

"Don't break anything," he reminded Bo and Be and slowly entered, glaring at any passersby brave enough to look at him. If that didn't work then the copper chain around his wrist did. A sure sign of his connection with the Copper King.

Inside was empty. Bland. No personality. "Wait outside," he ordered the two and went in to search the apartment.

There was very little there. No personal things. The word 'orphanage' was rattling around his head. Was he afraid of getting attached to stuff? All he found was some clothes, and the contract with a loan office, Pix would likely want to see that, signed by Jimmy and some Eric. So that's who he had to find, other than the two collectors. And several returned never opened letters to an Eric in the upper town. Near the temple district. Fancy, but not completely out of reach.

After packing the few things he found, just so Pix wouldn't bet on his case for not bringing anything, he left already planning a story that would get him into the loan office without too much trouble. Eh, he'd just drop the Copper King's name and threaten his way to the info he needed.

"I'm sorry?" a sudden voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Do you know the young man who lives here?"

fWhip turned around to see an elderly lady, quickly hiding his right hand with the bracelet. "Kind of, he's close with a friend and they asked me to grab his stuff since I was in the area anyway," he easily lied with a smiled

"Oh, I haven't seen him a lot these past few days, there were some shady types hanging about so I got worried," she chatted and fWhip listened counting to get some extra information. "He helps me with groceries, such a kind young man, met with some bad things..." she sighed. "I probably shouldn't..."

"No, no it's all fine," fWhip assured. He had a feeling she would say things Jimmy wouldn't. "My friend said, vaguely, Jimmy was in some trouble before they met. Such shame..."

"Yeah, your friend better be nice, his last boyfriend got him in some ridiculous debt before he moved here..."

fWhip was barely listening. Boyfriend? Pix would burn the city if he knew. Not even Joel would stop him... Jimmy was smart to not say it. Very smart.

"So sad," fWhip nodded. "I should go through, stuff to do, but thank you for talking to me," he did a little bow, showing his right wrist and left, vaguely hearing the lady say 'what did I do...'.

Without a word, he led Bo and Be to the loans office. If anyone was responsible for his ears it was them. It was in the middle parts of the city, not too far from the Evermoore Academy. The students gave him a few curious looks but he ignored them, fiddling with the copper chain. They were mostly too sheltered to know what it meant, but the few who understood looked away. It did nothing to fix his mood.

At the loan office, he just let himself in. The young woman behind the front desk was about to say something but stopped when Bo and Be walked in.

"Hello, is Mr Martyn in?" fWhip asked with a courteous grin, but his eyes remained cold, looking down at everything around.

"He's busy..." she started but stopped when his stare snapped to her from a bowl of candy on a bookshelf.

"Tell him the Copper King would like to talk," he hummed, waving his right arm. He hated it when the symbol wasn't recognised. Or when someone thought they were above respecting it.

"One second," she swallowed and walked to her boss' office with as much dignity as she could.

fWhip waited. For now patiently but it was wearing thin with every second. Lucky for them the boss left his office, with the secretary following.

"I'm sorry about the wait how may I help the king?" the man asked, visibly nervous and somewhat confused."

"Here? Won't you invite me in?" fWhip hummed, his tail swiping dangerously, low to the ground.

It was obvious he didn't want fWhip in his office but he relented, excusing the couple he was talking to before. fWhip didn't even wait for them to leave before letting himself in, the goons following.

"So... um..." Martyn squirmed in his chair.

"I'm here to inquire about a certain contract the King paid off, no, let's not beat about the bush, I'm looking for the collection agents you send after it, tell me where to find them and I'll let you go, unharmed, hide them and... you don't want to know," fWhip said presenting the contract he found to the man.

The man quickly looked it over and paled. "Yes... they were independent contractors, named Biff and Jiff, they have an 'office' by the northern end of the docks, we were having trouble reaching Mr Eric, the primary of the contract..."

"That's enough, you two heard it?" fWhip stopped him and glanced at Bo and Be. They nodded. "Go and grab them then, do not damage them too much, that's my job..." he ordered. "Mr Martyn, I wish you a nice day and that we never have to talk again," he smiled and left the office.

Now. How to find Eric... The address Jimmy was sending letters to was a good start. Whistling happily he walked there. He could swear he saw Pix, Jimmy and that one goon (covered in bags) at one point. It was quite a funny sight. And he spotted a new accessory on the elf. A copper chain necklace. A sign that he was Pix's favourite, he assumed. Pix liked marking his favourites, fWhip's bracelets were good proof of that. And an excellent conductor for magic.

The place was pretty nice. Much more fitting. And quiet. Seemingly recently abandoned. After looking about to make sure no one was paying him any mind, he approached the door and gently tried the doorknob. Locked but there was a slight noise inside at that. A quiet, scared squeak and rustling of someone moving about inside. Could be this Eric person, hiding from his debts, like the absolute coward he was. Maybe he heard Jimmy was seen with Pixl?

fWhip didn't care. He gently knocked, releasing a silent spell that opened the door for him. And locked it behind him once he silently slinked in.

"Mr Eric?" he called out in a low, cold voice.

"I said I'll have the money ready soon," came a desperate call from inside the house. fWhip slowly, silently stalked towards the voice.

"That has been taken care of, I'm here about Jimmy," fWhip said creeping closer and closer, through the sitting room and the dining room. Slowly approaching the kitchen from where the voice was coming.

"We're no longer together, leave me alone," the voice nearly cried.

fWhip was silent now, looming over a shaking shape. "That doesn't matter," he said grabbing the man by his neck and throwing him to the ground. "The Copper King does not care when you did it but you put his new favourite in danger and he does not like that," he grinned, summoning a light in his right hand. The man instantly went into panic seeing the copper chain bracelet. It would seem he knew some stuff.

"Please let me go, I didn't..."

"Oh shut up," fWhip groaned slamming him against the floorboards, knocking him out.

With that done he went to look around the place. Everything of value seemed to have been sold. almost everything. On the dusty dining table lay a brass ring with a set in sapphire. It wasn't magical or special in any other way. Only somewhat valuable. He still grabbed it, just in case. Finding nothing else he looked for the entrance to the sewers. Not his preferred route but it beat carrying an unconscious man through the streets...

#my stuff #my stories #empires smp #empires smp s2 #empires fwhip #empires jimmy #empires pixl #jinn!pixlriffs #tiefling fwhip #elf!jimmy #fanfiction #empiresshipping

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

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Lately I've been thinking about something..I imagine Grave and his MC going out on some kind of "date". Like there's the MC who's a "nature-lover": loves going to the sea to watch the stars or the sunrise, takes walks along the lakes, goes to the countryside etc... nothing too tiring or exaggerated anyway, and more importantly, she doesn't go to crowded places, in fact the MC also loves solitude and knows that Grave doesn't really like people. And I imagine that one day, the MC just gets up and says that she'd like to take him out on a date but she doesn't tell him where they are going, and Grave is being of course a grumpy little boy thinking that this is a terrible idea and there's the MC that reassures him saying that she got this, i mean, "have some trust on me, will ya?!!" and they go... And Grave actually enjoys it?? Like, he finds nature comforting and calming in some way?? He just lays down on the soft golden sand of this calm and peaceful sea while watching the stars(how good that would be).. next to his lover, and then tells her "well, maybe you do have a semblance of a brain inside that stupid head of yours"(assh***) and she snortes and says "shouldn't you thank me, you ungrateful brat" and they just start this funny little quarrel..but they're both happy, HE'S happy.

Also, it's scientifically proven that nature really HELPS people, like when surrounded by it you are automatically less stressed, have less negative thoughts and you tend to be happier in general...at least that's what I read on a psychology post- ANYWAY, hope you read this ask and do a little scenario or headcanon( i don't really care which one), but feel free to ignore it if you think it's a bit "out of character" for Grave to do this. Also, sorry for my English, it's not my mother tongue. Thank you in advance ;-)

Grave knew that you were up to no good when you woke him up this morning. He knew that when you told him that you wanted to take him somewhere that he wasn't going to be able to find a way out of it, so he agreed to go with you if it would get that cheeky smile to find its way off of your face.

"Don't tell me you're leading to some traveler's oasis."

"I told you to be a little patient, Grave. I promise it's worth the trouble, okay?"

He was in the middle of a park now. Well, it wasn't like the park that he expected. It was more like... it was more like an opening clearing with a lot of flowers. It wasn't his favorite thing in the world to be by so many flowers... but...

It felt... warm.

You had taken him away from the bunker and led him through winding pathways just to get away from anyone else who might have been wandering around outside. It was private and secluded, but it was the first time that he had been to a place like this in forever.

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about it.

Was he supposed to enjoy it?

He had been worried that you were going to drag him somewhere that a lot of people traveled.

He knew that you loved to get outside and do things, but that usually meant that someone loved working in groups on hikes or going out and seeing the beach when it was at the most crowded hour.

He never thought that you would take him to this quiet spot where it was just the two of you. You were... different than him. You had a soft smile and a personality that stole hearts, and he was an irritated cat who decided when he wanted to deal with someone.

He looked back at you only to see the blooming smile on your face as the two of you came to a stop. The look he was giving you was still a doubtful one, but you never lost your spark. "Have some faith in me, okay? I know that you prefer to be alone... I honestly love to visit the most secluded spots."

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as you sprawled back on the grass and patted a spot next to you. There was another doubtful look across his features as he sighed, and gave into those wishes, too.

"Maybe there is a brain somewhere in that head of yours, after all," he grumbled.

You laughed.

Grave rested his hand right next to yours as you laid underneath the sky and let the fluffy white clouds roll by. It was quiet for the longest time as you settled to enjoy your time together. Grave didn't hate you, no matter what someone wanted to say about that. He was thankful for you.

He just couldn't always say it.

However, he knew when you laced your fingers together that you understood his heart.

#se suit saeran #grave #ask #mod kait #anon

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ewshannon · 4 years

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I Love My Mother's Killer

I Love My Mother's Killer

E.W. Shannon

At three a.m. on a Sunday morning, through a glass door, I saw mother take her last breath. The ICU doctor warned it wouldn't be a long drawn out process, but I think even the nurse and the respiratory therapist were a bit surprised at how quickly she stopped. Stopped being alive. Stopped being Mabel Harper. Stopped being Mom and Grandma. I was a little shocked at how fast she went from being my mother to being 'the body,' almost as if I could see the tether between her and the ethereal part of the universe sever in front of me.

I stood outside, in my hospital booties, gown, gloves, hair cover, mask, and face shield while they removed her breathing tube. Her nurse, Vanessa, looked up at me when she realized how quick death had come. She came out of the room, took a deep breath, and gave me the news. "I'm sorry Mr. Harper, she's already gone." She paused to let me process and perhaps breakdown. When it became obvious, I wasn't going to go into hysterics, she continued. "Just let the respiratory therapist come out and then you can go in."

"No, that's okay." I started taking off the protective gear and felt guilty at having wasted it just to stand in a hallway. Talking to strangers has never been a strength of mine and the circumstance of my mother's death, or I guess any death, made it even worse. All the autistic tics and traits I had worked so hard on to lessen or get rid of came back like somebody poured them over me from a bucket. The stutter, the inability to look someone in the face, the sweating, all descended upon me at once. "I-I-I-Is there a-a-a-anything else y-y-y-you need from me?"

Vanessa placed a hand on my arm. Even through my shirt and the gown and her glove, I could still feel her warmth. "You want to sit down?"

"N-n-n-n-no, I-I-I-I'll b-b-be okay. I just need to go d-d-d-d-do a b-b-breathing exerc-c-c-c-ise." On top of all the sweating and stuttering I had unconsciously begun crying and hadn't even realized it.

"Okay. Um, no, there's nothing else we need right now from you. We'll call the mortuary and they'll be in contact with you." She half looked at me with pity and half with awe. For months now her world had been a constant dialogue about COVID; for over a week she had seen me as a competent sane man, and now a certified medical freak stood in front of her coming apart at the seams. Having an evolving medical curiosity in front of her must have been a nice change of pace from the pandemic.

"Thank you for e-e-everything."

"No problem. Sorry for your loss." She patted my arm again and I felt her shift internally. Her voice changed into a hospital administrator to catch my attention. "Make sure you leave the face mask on until you leave the building and use hand sanitizer as you exit this unit, as well as when you exit the building downstairs.

"Thank you."

She went back into my mother's room and pulled a curtain across the glass door.

I don't remember leaving the unit, how I got downstairs and exited, how I found my car in the parking garage, or if I ever used any hand sanitizer. I just remember sobbing with my head leaned against the steering wheel, my tears snaking their way through the Chevy emblem before falling into my lap. Eventually I started the car and headed home. At first, I tried to craft what I would say to my daughters, Lily and Layla, but found I could either drive or work on a speech for my girls, but not both. So, I just drove and let my subconscious wander and it wasn't long before it took me back to that innocent day less than a month ago.

It's so stupid really. As a family we had been so careful to self-isolate as a group; it felt like Swiss Family Robinson, but with Wi-Fi. A drive-by birthday party for a seven-year-old is what started the death knell for mother. A boy named Asher, a friend of Lily's, stood in the driveway as, one by one, friends (and their obliging parents) stopped and sang Happy Birthday, hooked a gift bag onto a six foot metal pole usually used for skimming a pool, and then waited for the little boy to yell out "Thank you!" showing off all the open spaces in his mouth where teeth had fallen out as he grinned like an idiot.

The thought of giving Lily a list of rules never occurred to anyone. Her ten-year-old sister held only a tentative grasp on the word 'pandemic.' To Layla it meant the bully she'd acquired at the beginning of the year was now null and void, she could go to class in questionable states of dress at the dining room table, she was no longer the weird kid who ate hummus and sprouts sandwiches alone in the cafeteria, and, most importantly to her, she got to sleep in for an extra hour.

Lily, however, was quite different. Every teacher's report we'd gotten on her included the phrase "social butterfly" or some variation of "very verbal." In every group picture from school, Lily grabbed the focus by placing herself dead center, usually with half the students looking at her rather than the camera. Since birth she had always been everybody’s friend and greeted everyone with a hug. I always imagine her studying Layla and seeing how heavy and dour she was and deciding to be the complete opposite.

So, there we were on a warm day in May, I drove, my wife, Joy, sat up front with me, and my mother sat between Layla and Lily in the back seat. I don't know why I put the car in park that day as we sang and put our bag on the pole. Remembering the 'clunk' of the doors unlocking sometimes wakes me up at night. I can vividly remember the bright green bow falling off the bag and how fast Lily had been at getting out of her booster seat and out of the car. Before my wife or I could comprehend what was happening, she had picked up the bow off the asphalt, playfully stuck it to Asher's forehead, and hugged him. No mask, no gloves, no ridiculous two-foot wide piece of plexiglass like at the grocery store, just two children doing what you want children to do, being caring, thoughtful, kind, unreserved, and picking up their litter.

I wouldn't say our family has any real germaphobes, but we did exercise a bit of caution as the tallies of deaths and infections continued their upward trajectory on the news. Joy and I had surrendered to the idea of life with COVID rather than life after COVID. My wife still went to the grocery store with the girls in tow. My mother made them each twenty masks with different patterns, each girl getting their name embroidered in one of the corners, so instead of telling them they 'had' to wear a mask we just had to say, "Go pick out a special mask to go with your outfit." Of course, they weren't wearing masks that day, as we weren't supposed to be near anyone.

When Lily got back into the car and buckled herself into her booster seat, a noticeable silence that accompanied her. Joy broke the hush. "Here Lily, put some hand sanitizer on." She then covered Lily's little hands with ten pumps of hand gel from a Costco-sized container.

I looked back at Lily's glistening dripping hands and whispered in my wife's ear, "Unless you're going to pump it down her nose and throat, the damage is done."

She turned back around in her seat, put a single pump of hand gel on her own hands and took a deep breath as she nervously rubbed it in. "Yeah, you're right. I mean, what are the odds?" She shrugged her shoulders and gave me an unconvincing smile.

The next day Joy sent an email to Asher's mother to ask, with the utmost of political correctness, if their family might be harboring a deadly contagion. The reply came back quick assuring us that we had nothing to worry about and asking if we might be harboring a deadly contagion. "Remember when these emails were about kids biting and organizing bake sales," I asked her after reading the reply.

The day after that I caught my wife typing in 'how many days for covid symptoms after possible infection.' Before she could press 'enter' I answered her, "Two to fourteen days." She pressed 'enter' anyway and then let out a sigh with her head resting in her hands. "Told ya so."

"It might have updated since you looked." Her tense reply made me get up and massage her shoulders.

"It'll be okay. None of us are sick. Mom's been fine since she moved in after her hip surgery. Worst case, we get sick and we get over it." I tried my best to fill the statement with confidence, but the tiny bit of doubt I let slip by was all she heard. I looked across the foyer and saw Lily in my mother's room, sitting in her lap having a story read to her, and hoped I was right.

Two more days went by and then Joy woke up with flu-like symptoms, achy, fever, a slight cough, but nothing too alarming. The next day Layla woke with similar symptoms, but not as extreme. We tried to go through a drive-up testing site, but once my wife saw the line, she gave the order to turn back. "It's like Schrödinger’s cat, let’s just hope we only have to open two boxes," she said. They each had symptoms for three days and then they cleared. My wife attributed their miraculous recovery to the vegan diet she had put the family on the previous year. I gave more credit to luck.

Day twelve I woke to the sound of a duck on fire quacking from downstairs, at least that's what it sounded like to me. I found my mother in her chair coughing and felt her hot clammy head. "Get dressed Mom, we're going to the hospital." She didn't answer, just shook her head, and shuffled over to her closet. A few hours later she became a patient in the special COVID ward of our local hospital.

A few days later I got a call from Vanessa, just starting the night shift, telling me they had transferred my mother to the ICU and asking if she had a living will. While having a living will makes you feel prepared for death, when somebody outside your family asks to see it, it's the most ominous feeling ever.

Two lights away from the entrance to our neighborhood, in the small hours of the morning with a few of my mother's effects in a hospital bag on the floorboard, I pulled the car over into a 7-Eleven parking lot and vomited all over a Japanese Boxwood. It wasn't a virus causing me to hurl, but a thought, a window into the future. Someday Lily will look back on this, maybe she'll come across one of those masks with my mother's embroidery on it, maybe she'll just remember waking up to the horrible news, but at some point she might make the connection to the bow on Asher's head and her grandmother dying.

#ewshannon #covid stories #covid-19 #writing #original writing #writers on tumblr #artists on tumblr #original photography on tumblr #photographers on tumblr #lgbtq writers

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