Where Do I Know you from?

It was an extremely odd reunion. There were big, round tables with four chairs each, precisely measured to ensure that the seated participants were six feet apart. The tables were twelve feet away from each other. All of the participants were masked.

The room was hushed, with only a low murmur of voices. A black banner hung on one wall, listing the numbers of dead.

"It is like the Masque of the Red Death," one guest noted. "Remember when we were teaching that to the Juniors?"

"Oh, yes. And when they wanted to give a themed party, only the school board nixed it as being "too grim" for a school event."

Elsa only listened with one ear as the discussion segued over into other school-related topics.

She could see him. There he was, across the room, talking to the guest speaker. They jokingly dueled with their "distance wands", devises that the event planners had come up with to help guests practice social distancing.

This year she would do it. She would invite him to coffee after. Even if somewhere down the years he had gotten married, coffee would not be a breach of trust or promise. Would it? Did people even think about those things any more?

The fencers paused, their wands just touching at the tips. Elsa glided in, and touched her wand to the transcendant peak of theirs. "All for one," she said.

"One for all," they replied.

Elsa tipped her wand to the floor, using it like a cane to lean on. "Which year?" he asked.

"Two Thousand," she replied. "Theater arts, third block."

"Oh, yeah. Death of a Salesman that year, right?"

Yes, and you played the lead role, Elsa thought to herself.

Aloud, she said, "Yes, that's right. Then we all went out for pizza afterward."

There was to be no asking at this point. The microphone came to life. "Ladies, Gentlemen, and all others . . ." This sally brought a ripple of laughter across the room.

When the laugh died, almost as quickly as it had begun, the speaker went on, "If you would find your tables, please. There are cards with your name at each place setting.

Elsa looked around. The cards were also color-coded to their entry tickets, making it easy to find their tables. To her delight, He and his companion were also seated at her table. Their fourth tablemate was Sue, her old dorm roommate, from her senior year in college.

Sue gave the companion a quick smooch on the cheek before sitting down across the table from Elsa. This left Him seated on her left and the companion dude seated on her right.

"Well," Sue began. But once more the loudspeaker intervened, introducing the Officers. The Chairman gave an inspirational speech about soldiering on in dark times. That was followed up by the treasurer's report, which had several retired members leafing through papers. Their retirement checks came through the organization.

These were followed up by the keynote speaker, the dinner speaker (and dinner), awards announcements, and (finally) the last speaker of the day.

They at last filed out of the meeting hall, their's being one of many that opted to ignore social distancing once they were outside.

Well, kids, this is where George and I leave you," Sue said. "You have fun now. Sue and the companion hailed a yellow cab and left."

"Do you have a ride?" Elsa asked Him.

"I don't," he said. "I had an Uber, but that driver does not operate after 8 PM. I think 10 PM is a little past her curfew."

"My car is here," Elsa said. "The attendant will bring it up in a few minutes. In fact, there it is now." I pointed to a battered soccer-mom van that stood out among the caddies, Porsches, and BMWs like a sore thumb.

"That looks like Mr. Neville's car," He chuckled. "What great times we had, traveling in that. Remember when Ramona got gum in her hair?"

"Oh, do I ever! And the fuss Mr. Neville made when we had to cut it out because she and her drama skit partner had a scene where they discussed her "flowing golden locks" which did not flow so well with a big patch cut out of one side."

Elsa thought to herself: I remember it very well indeed because I was the one who had tried everything from lemon juice to peanut butter to try to get it out. And then I was the one who did the cutting.

The battered old van pulled to a stop in front of us, and the attendant handed Elsa the keys. "Would you like to go for coffee?" she asked.

There. She had done it. She had asked him out for coffee. Surely no harm in that. "Sure," He replied. "My flight does nto leave until midnight."

"There are still air flights?" Elsa asked. "I thought they were all canceled.

He shrugged. "Company plane. They wanted me here."

Oh. Well, that explained a lot.

Elsa drove calmly to her favorite coffee shop. They had to use the drive-through because they had discontinued seated service for the duration of the epidemic -- however long that might last.

Elsa pulled into a parking slot after their orders were handed out the window so that they could enjoy their drinks.

"By the way," He said, "I'm Randy."

"I know," Elsa replied. "Used to glue your crepe hair beard to your chin for Abraham Lincoln because your own beard was too thin and too lightly colored."

Randy touched his neatly trimmed blond, tinged with grey, beard. Then recognition slowly dawned. "Elsa? We used to call you Elsa Oliphant because you . . . because you fetched and carried."

And because I weighed more than two hundred pounds, Elsa thought. You have no idea how much that hurt.

After surviving a bout of Ebola after three years of missionary work at the edge of the Sahara, then coming home and contracting Novel Coronavirus, well, let's just say that dieting was no longer a part of Elsa's life. Or to be more exact, she followed a precise diet to avoid becoming sick again.

Elsa blew on her cappuccino and thought for a moment. She'd had a crush on this man. She had carried a torch for him for years. Amazing to find how petty he was.

But Elsa had the perfect comeback.

"Well, Randy, now I sign your paychecks."