Julian and the Sun

"Julian, I hope you understand, there are people outside waiting for you to give them an answer. If you don't, they will remove the signage!"

"But..." Julian hesitated. He knew it absurd, and he already knew what would happen next.

The pressure was mounting. He paced across the living room, wondering how many were outside -- his windows were shut tight, frosted, and well-curtained -- and he did not want to deal with the nonsense they would give to him: he had enough through the incessant mails.

He could feel the annoyance grow as the words outside grew hastier and jumpier, like ants on a sugar high.

"Julian!" The knocking got louder, and each one a pain to his eardrums. He made a mental note to put a sign on his door next time, likely with some threat.

I should have earned more money, to hire a servant to do all these shit work for me. He was a freelancer doing design work, the pittance all too little to even support himself. He also likes to design his signages, to make them as glaring and threatening as possible. But currently, it seemed to no avail.

"Damn you Julian. Get the hell out right now!" It was now a different voicing shouting through the door. It made his heart skip a beat, and he wondered how much he would need to procure one that would soundproof such sonority. And maybe a warning alarm if the voice gets too high.

And he went to Google whether the technology exists.

And it does.

But his pocket ain't got cash.

He put it in his wishlist -- so long it could break his browser if fully rendered -- and he slumped onto his sofa, as though he had made a brilliant breakthrough for mankind. The fatigue slowly got to him as his eyes started to lose focus, and he gradually...slowly...steadily...

"JULIAN! If you don't open up, we will call the police!" The same voice rattled his mind once again. He was annoyed, thoroughly annoyed. Who is that outside the door? Why is he so adamant? Why is this bunch of people so adamant?

And then he realized that they introduced themselves as part of the mayor's office, and he postulated he could jolly-well be the mayor himself. I didn't expect the mayor to be a rowdy one. But this was a rowdy neighbourhood, and he was the likely the odd one out.

"Okay, we are calling the police now. And we will be fining you $200 for the signage. It would have been a warning, but your non-compliance deserves it." Now back to the lady; he assumed she was the one in charge. He had never attempted to peek out of the eyehole, for fear even a modicum of sunlight would trigger his itchiness.

He was a fine specimen for quarantine studies, a modern day Dracula.

"Okay, he replied through the door."

He could hear the bunch taking his reply in, and then they left his doorstep. He then could hear engines starting, and then booming away, as though venting their frustrations. He heaped a sigh of relief, and then got up to plan for the night.

Sunblock checked. New signages checked. Tools for new signages checked. Words on signages checked. PPE checked.

Night time, and no police came. I knew it, always the case! Finally, at around 10pm -- buffer to ensure the sun was already gone -- he opened his door.

Fully armoured, he went out to work. He still needed the complete protection because moonlight was just a derivative of sunlight. He first placed the threatening signage on his doorstep. He then placed yet another signage right next to the signage he was supposed to remove, now with a harsher tone.

The full protection and his hard work made him sweaty, but it was a necessary evil he had to endure, for he knew the sun was much more evil.

And then the bunch came with their cars.

He saw them -- how fortunate of me -- and he quickly dashed back to his house. The people in the cars were trying to keep up. It was an exasperating situation for him, as his frailness and the load were not suited for a cat-and-mouse game.

He tripped.

"HA! Hahaha! Finally, we could see your bloody face!" The rowdy man was so happy as though he won the lottery. The lady sighed as she watched the mayor do his thing. He grabbed Julian's helmet, and then yanked it off. "I can finally see your face, son!"

"No, don't do it. Please!" Julian could feel the itches coming, and he somehow pictured them as fire ants biting his skin. He was distraught, and he took all effort to shield his face -- definitely not to block the mayor's view.

"Why are you so shy?"

"I... I..." And he quickly picked himself up, but the man pinned him down, already expecting him to do so.

"Tell me! Why are you hiding from us? What is with all these signages?"

"The sun... the evil sun... it burns me!"

The major was confounded. "Are you... a ghost?"

"I am allergic to the sun!"

"Ha... hahaha! I see!" The man laughed a hearty one. He then pried the armoured hands away, and looked at the scared face. "You don't look like you would have problems with the sun. Your skin is flawless. I have a son who has a real allergy, and I know you definitely don't."

It took Julian a long time to process that. "Really?"

"Yes really."

"Okay..." He then stood up, now without any resistance, and went to take the signages down. He was still clad in his PPE, and it was a tiring effort. He lost his breathe taking down the first one, and the man -- his sympathy overflowing -- helped him put the first down and work on the second one.

"Good boy" The man said out loud beside him, and he shuddered.

"I will make sure to come check every day boy! Don't disappoint me."

"Yes sir I will not." His brain still had the feeling of solar allergy, but that confirmation soothed him a little.

"And I think you have another mental condition."

And Julian saw the lady nod as well.

Hmm... and maybe I do. Maybe that is why I am not just allergic to the sun, but also to dust, to cats, to monitors, to pillowcases, to plastic bags, to the sight of sparkling water...

And he slowly trudged his way back home, his mind now thinking new strategies to cope with his newfound way of modelling his problem.