The Plague Doctor

 I first noticed the man on a sunny day in June.

At the time I lived in a downtown suburban area. My apartment was on the fourth floor of a new complex, where I lived with my older sister and her boyfriend while I took my prereqs in nursing from the local community college.

None of that is particularly important other than the fact that I’d never seen anything out of the ordinary. As a nineteen-year-old woman, I even felt relatively safe taking jogs on my own in the neighborhood. 

I felt safe in that neighborhood.

Then, one day, I saw him.

I think it’s safe to say that most people know what a plague doctor is. As a medical student and a bit of a history buff as well, I’d always been interested in the history of medical science. The wild things humans did before modern medicine in order to attempt to cure even everyday, preventable diseases. Well, it had always intrigued me.

So when I saw a person dressed as a plague doctor in broad daylight, part of me wanted to go compliment the costume. After all, it looked pretty authentic. Someone had obviously known their stuff. But a greater part of me, the part that was always the over-cautious one, held me back. 

I’d heard too many horror stories about college girls approaching strange men and never being heard from again.

I watched him for a moment. He was standing across the street from me, back halfway turned. Yet I had every reason to believe he hadn’t yet seen me. His head faced the building he stood not three feet from, fixated on something about it.

Then he turned his head, and he did see me.

I felt my heart skip a beat.

For a moment, I simply stared, unable to say anything. For some inexplicable reason, I was frozen in place, that mask studying my face like I was his next patient.

The footsteps behind me were what broke me out of my stupor.

A man with his dog, happy to be out for a stroll.

When I turned back, the stranger was gone.

I thought it was nothing more than an odd experience at first. And then I saw him again.

I was stepping out of my school library, textbook in hand. I'd just left a study session with some classmates for my Anatomy class, and a nice girl named Carol had offered to walk me out as we'd parked in the same lot.

The street lamp flickered ominously in the twilight. A chill suddenly ran up my spine because then there he was, as if appearing out of the ether.

A figure draped in black and sporting a white crow's mask.

Carol scoffed. "Must be some kid trying to pull a prank. It's not even Halloween."

So she saw him too.

At this point, I was convincing myself that this creep was following me around.

"Maybe we should call campus police," I suggested nervously, eyeing the suspicious, unmoving figure.

Carol shook her head. "Only if he actually tries something. C'mon, let's hurry to our cars."

I watched him the whole way until he vanished from my line of sight.

The next time I saw him was outside the diner where I worked. My sister was kind, and refused to take money for rent, but I insisted on paying for everything else. Car insurance, gas, classes, books. So five nights a week and one morning, I dragged myself to work at a local mom and pop's beloved all over town.

It was the kind of place where families ate. The kind of place I thought I'd be safe.

I clocked out and said goodnight to my two remaining coworkers, thankful I was lucky enough to leave ten minutes after closing.

My heart nearly stopped when I saw him. He stood next to my car, hand on the passenger door handle.

Reaching into my purse, my hand quickly found the mace I keep in there. My other hand found my cell, flipping it open and preparing myself to dial 9-1-1. 

"Hey, what the hell?" I called. His attention immediately snapped to me. "W-why are you following me?" I tried to sound confident, but my legs were shaking.

His long coat dragged on the ground. The ends were fraying.

"My coworkers are inside. I'll scream if you try anything."

His head tilted like a confused dog.

"My lady, I pray ye not think me of the uncouthe sort."

I shook my head. This was ridiculous. This man was clearly crazy. I had to call the cops right awa-

"Gentle lady, mind thee if I asketh a query?"

"...sure."

"I findeth mine circumstances quite queer, you see. Verily, I doth not know whither it is I find myself." He stayed where he was, at least, as if sensing my discomfort at his presence.

"Indiana,” I said. “You're in Indiana."

"I've not hath heard of such a place. Pray, what year are we in?" 

"2002."

"Truly? Mine own, what a grete trip I have taken!"

My hand shook as I tried to punch in the numbers. 9. 1. This man clearly needed help, he…

"What's in your mask?" I asked, trying not to show the fear I was very much feeling. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing. Stalling for time, distracting him, maybe trying to get answers. 

He shook his head, as if confused by the question. “Why, theriac."  That didn't prove anything. He could've read about that. Could be a history buff, the same as me. He continued, “Ah, a lady of thy grade mustn't understand. The mask hath been-"

"It’s filled with herbs, right? Things like cinnamon, myrrh, figs, and honey, right? I'm a doctor too." That was the best explanation I could give him.

“Aye, in this land a mistress can bee a doct’r. H’w curious.”

I simply gaped at him, completely at a loss of what to say next. His gaze seemed to pierce through mask, through my very soul. His very presence was eerie, that of a man haunted by life itself.

Questions raced through my mind. Why had he been stalking me? Obviously, he was trained in 17th century English. An English major? An actor? What reason did he have for following me? There was no way he could really be from the past. If he were even to be believed, which was doubtful, I had to know. “How exactly did you get here?”

He turned and studied his surroundings, looking a bit like a lost child. “In all honesty, I knoweth not. I wast th’re, tending to a patient, and then I wast h’re. This hath happend sev’ral times.”

I shook my head. This was all insane. Both this man, and me for fending his delusions. I tightened the grip on my phone. “Listen, man,” I began. “I’m just going to call you an amb-”

And then he was gone, snuffed out like a candle. I watched it happen and I still can't quite explain it, the way he simply vanished, as if he'd been a ghost or an illusion all along.

The car two spaces over from mine beeped. I nearly jumped out of my skin, then again when I realized my coworker Julius was standing right next to me. I hadn't heard him open the door.

"Woah, Tory, are you alright?" 

I nodded, still clutching my phone with my fingers poised over the keys. "Yeah. Did-did you see that?"

"See what?"

I shook my head, shivering against the sudden cold. "Nothing, nevermind," I replied, snapping my phone shut and shoving it back into my apron pocket. “Forget I said anything.”

I got in my car and I drove home. I never saw the plague doctor again. To this day, I still wonder what happened. The only prove I have to his existence is that Carol remembers him, too. That way, at least, I know I didn’t dream the whole thing.

The next day at work Julius asked me if I saw that old Model T driving down the street in front of the diner. Curious, I looked out the window to see nothing. Julius blinked and said his must’ve imagined it, but I knew better.