The Girl

I follow my mom down the aisle, dragging my feet behind her. She beckons at me to hold a dress that she’s picked, and I sigh, holding my arm out. 

I walk down the aisle and don’t even have to say “excuse me”. 

Everyone is distancing themselves from each other, and faces are bent into perpetual scowls, as if they have a score to settle with the pandemic. I stifle a laugh, wondering if the pandemic could be thought of as a tangible thing. A few scowling faces look at me questioningly, wondering why I’m laughing in a time of peril. 

Ignoring them, I drag my feet across the aisles, trying to catch up to my mom, who is excitedly shuffling through the clothes. 

I look around while I walk, hopefully trying to spot a kid my age. I’m desperate enough to strike up a chat, even though it would be with a stranger. I’ve become way too desperate these days with no social interaction. Nobody even comes outside to even hang out these days, and I’m left to ride my bike in circles around the abandoned cul-de-sac. 

But to no avail, I only see scowling and grim faces.

My mom stops walking to see how a dress looks on her, and I stand in the long aisle of clothing, admiring how the sea of apparel never ends. It's a kaleidoscope of color, along with different sizes and shapes of dresses. It's almost calming and peaceful, and I’m lost, trance-like.

After a while, I decide to abandon my mom and head to the men's department and browse through the clothing there, absent-mindedly browsing through t-shirts. 

A rustling to my left startles me. There’s nobody there. 

But then a small head pokes out from between the sleeves of a polo. It's a little girl, probably ten years old. She enters the aisle and looks directly at me for a few seconds. Instead of staring back, I act like I’m interested in the shirts. Satisfied, she then turns away from me and runs her hands through the dangling sleeves on the shirts, humming to herself a song I don't know, walking down the aisle. 

What catches my eye about her is how she's dressed. A weave of twigs and leaves makes up her shirt, and flowers braid her hair. 

Her glowing olive skin complements her sparkling green eyes; almost everything about her screams green. 

But something feels off about her. Her dress, the way she stared at me, and how she’s alone. 

“Hi, there! Are you lost?”

She looks back at me in surprise, and when she sees my unblinking concerned face, she lets her guard down: “No thank you. I’m just playing.”

And then she scurries away, disappearing among the abyss of clothing.

I head back to my mom, bewildered by the young girl. Was she telling the truth?

As we head out of the store, an eternity later, a flash of emerald scurries across us in a blur. 

I don’t even register it a first, but as soon as I do, I throw my arm in front of my mom. 

“Did you not see that girl?”

"Who? What? Where? When?" she questions, sprouting questions like a journalist. 

"You know, that girl that just ran a foot in front of you?"

Her perplexed face is enough to tell me that she did not see the girl. So I tell her it's nothing.

The girl nags the corner of my mind throughout the day, her innocent star-like eyes, and glowing aura. Something is amiss about her, and I can’t place my finger on it. 

Later in the week, my brother's soccer practice serves as a getaway from the island of boredom, home.

I find the time to take a walk in the sprawling park during the practice while my parents watch my brother play, enjoying nature.

It feels like the virus doesn't even exist, and that people are just taking a regular walk. It feels peaceful, with the birds chirping overhead and the rhythmic thump of my feet against the pavement. It feels calm, not thinking about the peril the world is in right now.

But my inner peace is interrupted by the flash of green that sprints past me. The next thing I know, I'm running after a blur of twigs and leaves, with my hands out, trying to catch the girl. 

For some reason, nobody looks at both of us, probably because they're too busy in a coughing fit, doubling over clutching their stomachs.

I finally catch her, and my hand firmly clasps hers, stopping her in her tracks. She looks back at me in surprise.

I stare into her eyes, and I can’t help noticing how mature her face looks, unlike how innocent it looked in the store. 

"Who are you? Like, really?" I say, pretty sure that she isn't a little girl here with her parents. I don’t believe her tale.

She holds my hand and leads me over to a picnic table. 

I look away, to see if somebody like her is nearby, and she turns to run, but my hand reaches out and snags her at the last minute. 

"You're not going anywhere till you tell me who you are."

A greenish tint rises to her cheeks, and her face, for some reason, is twisted in amazement. An odd combination of amusement, horror, amazement, and curiosity.

She tugs at my hand vigorously, but my hand doesn't budge, firm as a rock. 

She takes a deep breath and starts talking in gibberish. She goes on and on, pointing and grunting like a caveman. 

She finally finishes, turning back to my unfazed face. I chuckle.

"Very funny. But you can't fool me. I know you know how to speak English."

I give her a few seconds before the realization dawns on her face that she had spoken English during our first encounter. 

She hesitates but probably knows that she has no option. That coaxes the truth out of her.

She starts by talking about how she is a homeless girl who is scarcely surviving. She was separated from her parents at a carnival. She tells me some more stories about how she is scarcely surviving. I take a good look at her. She looks well-nourished, not too skinny but not too overweight. Her face is radiating a glow and is not full of grime and dirt. She almost looks immortal, if one could be. 

"Yeah, right. Look, I know you're lying. Just tell me the truth. It'll be easier." 

"Okay,” she sighs. She glares at me, probably wondering why I’m so stubborn. “But promise that you won't tell anybody,” she says, staring at me with her piercing eyes. 

“Promise.”

“My mother, Mother Nature, sent me here to keep tabs on how you humans are doing, during this Coronavirus, as you people call it. I tell her what is going on daily, and she watches over you.” She says all this calmly, and then the anger in her voice starts rising.

“But for some reason, only you can see me. Nobody should be able to. "

I nod when she finishes, completely unfazed. My brain is in shock, paralyzed. Better to take in what I had just heard later. 

"Same time tomorrow?" I blurt out, my tongue acting upon its own will. The girl looks at me in surprise but hesitates and says yes, feebly. As she frolics away, I feel like there is something I am missing about her. She's keeping something away from me. I can't place my finger on it, again.

I get up and leave, wondering why she agreed to my invitation promptly, and more importantly, about the twisted tale she told me.

The next day I rush back eagerly to the picnic table, but she isn't there. I sit down on the bench. 

"Looking for me?" A voice says in my ear. 

I yelp and jump, which buys quite a few looks from passersby, who think I’m probably not right in the head.

Turning around reveals her, smiling innocently. 

After calming down, I ask her if she wants to walk and talk. I don't think she will run away. After all, she decided to meet me. 

And so we do, strolling, tall and small next to each other.

We start talking, at first about general topics, and then about her. Her name's Lila. I analyze every sentence she says, in the hopes of learning more about her. 

Her story and actions don't add up. My gut says she's keeping something away from me. As we walk, the path narrows, and people start coughing as we pass them in close quarters.

My eyebrows scrunch together, and I wonder why everyone is having a fit as we walk past them. 

We walk right past the fields where my brother is playing soccer. Abruptly, I stop, and everything transitions into slow-motion. I watch the people whom we passed earlier. They walk up to the gate, where their temperature gets verified. 

And as if on cue, a chorus of beeping arises across the many thermometers. And something in my mind clicks before all breaks loose. 

Everybody runs, and I grasp Lila's hand and pull her away, my instincts taking over as the older one. We run back to the picnic table, pushing our way through the crowd to get away. We're panting and gasping by the time we get back, which has almost become our rendezvous point.

She tells me that she needs to leave, but I firmly hold her hand. It’s a gesture I’ve been using a lot with her. I force her to sit at the table, and she doesn't look like an innocent girl anymore. I can see it in her eyes. They look old and wise. Her youthfulness has concealed them until now.

"You're lying. Tell me the truth." My steely voice brings back the green pigment to her cheeks. I guess that's her form of blushing.

She bows her head and sighs again. It's almost a repeat of our previous conversation.

"Okay. Fine. Here's the truth: I am Coronavirus."

Even though I had already figured this out, it still startles me. I feel light-headed, and the blood rushes from my head. I gasp for air as if just being in her presence exposes me to the virus. Actually, she probably has already infected me.

"Mother sent me down here to spread the virus. She wants you all to suffer because of what you all are doing to her. You all are ruining the planet. You all are ruining her."

She goes on and doesn't stop talking, pausing only to take a breath.

"Whatever I touch spreads the virus. Mother gave me these powers to make you all realize her power and greatness, and it looks like it is working. But nobody can see me, and I don't know why you can see me."

After she stops talking, I feel a new wave of lightheadedness. She leaves, and this time I don't stop her. I need to mull over what she had just said alone.

Why would Mother Nature want to do this to us? I'm visibly shaken with disbelief as I start walking back to the field. As I walk, three pairs of hands jolt me from my thoughts. It's my family. 

"Thank god you're safe!" Mom says. "Where have you been? Practice ended ten minutes ago, and we also heard that somebody had the virus here! We were scared!"

I smile and say that everything is fine. We go back to the car, leaving me to think about what our world has become. 

After a week of canceled soccer practices, with no sign of Lila, we head back to the park. Once again, I rush back to the picnic table, looking for Lila. I feel like a lost soul without her. 

As I walk back alone, a feathery hand slips into mine. 

It's Lila. We both look at each other, and as if by mutual understanding, we turn around and walk back to the picnic table.

We sit down, and I question her, "Why can't you stop? Humanity is suffering. People are dying left and right, and the lifestyle of humanity has changed. We are all confined to our homes, and we are scared to go outside. Jobs are lost, and stores have closed temporarily and permanently. The world has come to a halt. Could you please stop, for the sake of humanity?" I'm out of breath by the time I say this.

"It's the only way to make people realize the power of nature. It will stop once people realize." She says, but I can see the gears turning in her head, even though she does her best to conceal it.

I nod, knowing that arguing isn't going to change anything.

"It's strange that I can see you, and be next to you and not get the virus. I had my temperature checked yesterday as a precaution." 

She has no answer. 

"It is odd." She murmurs. "Maybe Mother planned it that way."

I laugh. "Mother is unpredictable. There is a reason for everything she does." 

I hear no reply. 

I turn around, and Lila is gone. 

Poof! Without a trace. She has a talent for vanishing.

I sigh and head back to the field, my head down, missing Lila already, even though I last saw her less than a minute ago. 

-50 years later-

"Is this where you will be playing soccer?" I ask my grandson. 

"Yeah, Grandpa!"

I hobble down the path, following my son and grandson. A few faces glance my way, and some of them smile in recognition. 

“Dr. William?” I nod my head in reply, and they come over, shaking my hand vigorously. “You are one of our lifesavers. Thank you. My son was on his deathbed when the vaccine came out.”

I smile, pleasure taking over me. It feels great to be acknowledged for my work and to serve the world.

But I’m shaken from my thoughts as I stare at the park.

It looks the same. The trees, the stadium, and the kids playing.

Just one thing has changed.

Everybody is together, laughing, smiling, and shaking hands. 

The Coronavirus is gone. 

And some say it’s all because of me. To be honest, it is. But Lila… 

I say bye to my grandchildren and begin my walk. The memories come flooding back, and I can hardly believe that it's been almost half a century since I was last here.

My walk takes me past my picnic table, where I see an old lady wearing a shirt with leaf designs on it. 

Her face looks familiar. 

"Lil-" Her face lights up and instantly recognizes me. 

We run towards each other and embrace. Wrinkled skin meets mine, not like how smooth it was back then. We both sob against each other's backs, and we eventually break apart, only to hug again. Even those few days we saw each other made a profound impact on our lives.

She motions me to sit and begins to talk, a frail voice surprising me. 

"I’m impressed.”

I smile. “It was all driven by desire. I knew I had to stop it.”

She nods. “But, you know. It wasn’t just me. It was you too.”

I don’t ask her to talk, but she does. “Mother gifted the virus to me, so I was the only one in possession of it. So I hid, and so the Coronavirus didn't spread. It slowly dies, and your vaccine sped it up a thousandfold. Mother's minion had failed her. And then she shunned me and made me mortal. Here I am now."

It takes me a moment to register what is happening. Tears brim my eyes. She sacrificed her life for us, for humanity. I didn’t know it was this severe.

She saved lives, families, and cries of sorrow, all because of my plea for help.

We both wanted to change the same thing but wanted to go about it in different ways.

Everybody thinks that the virus was eradicated due to my vaccine, but only she and I know the truth. It will linger with me until I take my last breath.

It's a heavy burden to carry.