The pandemic wasn’t even at its worst; that was yet to come. But Eric insisted on checking on his parents almost everyday. His mom just turned 78 and his dad 85. Eric worried constantly that they were going to get the virus. They went out shopping far too often.
At the same time, all Eric did was whine like a little girl about what annoying thing one or both of them did that day, and how it negatively affected him. How selfish his mother was. How forgetful and in the way his father was. Mia found that to be really confusing. He acted like he hated them, yet catered to their every desire. Inwardly, she was jealous and wished he would cater to her every desire. But what pissed Mia off the most, was how his parents refused to sign a new deed over for their waterfront home to Eric with Life Rights. If they died, he would get the house, but as long as they were alive, they could live there. Without them signing this document, and if they had to go to a nursing home, the State would take the house in lieu of payment.
Eric had worked on re-building their house so diligently for months on end, making it livable after the tornado a few years ago. He invested his own money from his retirement savings and went into debt to do so. He once told Mia, in reference to his mom, “Think Pink Floyd and their song “Mother”. But, when Mia brought over something she cooked, her recipe wasn’t as good as his mother’s recipe. If she bought Eric something, anything, his mother would find fault with it. When she brought her a plant as a hostess gift for Thanksgiving, his mother said, “It’s only going to die”. Argh! She is miserable! “Don’t take it personally” Eric insisted his mother would be over protective no matter who his girlfriend is. After all, he was her Baby Boy. But when Mia passed right by his mother when they got out of the car and she said good morning and she ignored her at 6 inches away, acted like she didn’t exist by looking right through her, that’s when Mia shut down and cut her off. “Let’s see how she likes being treated like dirt?”
Mia had a lot of spare time now, what with the beauty salon she worked for being closed due to the social distancing rule. The hospitals in their area were over capacity and patients were dying because of the ventilator shortages. They were alone too because they were quarantined. She felt so sorry for some of the patients. So Mia decided to volunteer at the hospital’s Tent City. She had to take an orientation class which showed the volunteers how and when to wear a face mask, wash their hands and where the liquid sanitizers were, among other things. She grew to love her time at the hospital. Everyone praised her and the EMTs’ and the nurses and doctors for their kindness and bravery. She just ate it up. Her self-esteem was through the roof!
It was a Wednesday when she and Eric visited his parents. His mother was up and about that day. Mia was hoping she’d be in bed napping where she usually was. “Damn Murphy’s Law” Mia thought. And right on cue, that’s when his mother came out and stood between them and said, “Eric, I don’t want you bringing her here anymore. She’s filthy with the virus from the hospital. Why are you taking such chances?” Um, I’m standing right here!
“Mia has been trained by the hospital and follows strict protocols”, Eric defended. “Unlike you and dad. You’re constantly going out exposing yourselves. For what? Another case of cran-apple juice? There’s three cases of the stuff in the garage! Is it really that important you get a fourth?”
Later that day, while on line, Mia got a Pop Up Ad for a writing contest. Even with the volunteer work, Mia still had too much free time. That’s when she figured out what she would do with her extra spare time. She’d write a story and call it The Perfect Murder and she would be able to vent out her frustrations about the old bag at the same time. In her story, the girl intentionally gets the virus and spreads it to her in-laws so they die and she and her husband live happily ever-after. Over the years, many people read articles she had written and said she missed her calling as a writer. Maybe she’d enter this contest, get rid of some frustrations, and win a cash prize to boot!
Mia was so convinced her story was flawless. She proofread it over and over and over again. She asked Eric to read it before she submitted it, but he said he’d read it later, not wanting to influence her story with his ideas. The more Mia read her story, however, the more she started to believe she could actually pull this off on Eric’s parents. They were old and not in good health. With the hospitals full, they couldn’t get treatment. And that’s exactly what Mia set out to do. She got herself exposed to the virus and insisted on spending time with Eric’s parents before she showed symptoms.
On day nine, his mother ran a fever and his dad had a dry cough. Classic virus symptoms. Mia, however, wasn’t sick. “Thank God” she thought, “I’m just a carrier!” With Eric, she was extremely careful, washing and sanitizing her hands constantly. She avoided kissing him and evaded every attempted hug, without suspicion.
When Eric found out his parents were now a statistic of the pandemic virus, it was his worst nightmare come true. He knew from Mia, the hospital’s Tent City was at capacity. That’s when his dad pointed out he is a decorated War Veteran. He fought in The War to protect his Country, it was time his Country protected him. So Eric took them to the V.A. hospital where he was told they were able to provide all the care they needed.
Mia, however, on day 13, started to run a fever. She couldn’t catch her breath. She had asthma, which did not help her situation. Eric brought her to Tent City where Eric was told Mia would be put on a ventilator as soon as one became available. They also told him he could not come back to visit. They could call or message one another though.
Eric was a wreck. The lives of the three closest persons in his world hung in the balance. He spent most of his time pacing back and forth. He made a mental note to replace the carpeting. Eric heard the mail truck park in front of his house so he opened the door to meet his Carrier. There was a Certified letter he had to sign for. “Nothing good ever comes from Certified Mail” Eric thought.
Before he could open the letter, the caller I.D. told him the V.A. hospital was calling. Most likely with an update. The woman on the other end gave him an update alright. His parents did not respond to treatment and succumbed to the virus about an hour ago. Most likely because of their ages and health. His mother smoked a pack a day and his father had been exposed to black smoke more times than he could count during his career as a Fireman.
Eric had prepared himself for the worst, but was so hoping for the best. This was not the best. It was far from the best. Eric refused to break down, though. Instead, he recalled many good memories he had had in his life with his mom and dad. They lead a long, rich, full life. He recalled the wonderful impact his parents had in this world. Mostly through their actions and life’s work. Funny how the bitter and petty things get buried along with the dead.
He looked down at his free hand as he hung up the phone. It was a letter from the writing contest. Maybe Mia won. She would recover so much faster if she got good news like that. Inspiration, that’s what she needs. Needs. Oh, how he needed Mia right now. She just has to recover. She would know what to say to him, how to look at him with those doe-like eyes and how to hold him, easing his pain.
Eric tore open the envelope and read: Congratulations! You’ve won 1st Prize” and there was a check for $100! Now he felt like such a jerk for not reading Mia’s story when she asked. So he decided he should sit down on the couch and read “The Perfect Murder” before calling her with the good news. OMG! Wait...what? He couldn’t believe what he was reading! This is absurd! Mia’s story was basically a confession that she had killed his parents!
Eric sat there in disbelief for what seemed like forever. Now, instead of calling Mia with the good news about The Perfect Murder, he picked up the phone and called the Police realizing, there is no perfect murder.
By Monica L. Harsch
mharsch50@gmail.com
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
0 comments