High Pressure

Henrikke, known as Rikki to those close to her, finally stood in a shady spot on the pavement. The twenty minutes in line felt like two hours already with the direct sun radiating off of the asphalt. Looking behind, Rikki was glad to have arrived as early as she had, although apparently, she wasn’t as early as some. In front of her the line seemed to snake forever in the heat. That small spot under a small tree was an oasis that everyone behind her was probably anticipating as eagerly as a nine-year-old with a huge gift under the tree.

An area of high pressure was stalled over the city. That’s what the newscaster had said that morning. Rikki was sitting on the couch when she heard those words. Only half listening while she scrolled through social media, she was killing time before heading out to stand in this slow-moving line, she had no idea what else was said. At least there weren’t many clouds, so she wasn't likely to suddenly need an umbrella. That would really suck, to be caught in the middle of a huge parking lot with only a few decorative trees which may provide a modicum of protection. Worse for the people standing too far away from the tiny green islands to take advantage of the sheltering umbrella of foliage. Folks would be unlikely to risk their place in the line for personal comfort, as the ones close to the rear stood the risk of being told to return again the next day.

As her gaze dropped from the beautiful azure above, Rikki noticed a man and woman about thirty feet behind her. The man held a polka dotted umbrella over his heavily pregnant wife’s head. One hand pressed against her lower back; she held a bottle of water to her lips with the other. Self preservation kept Rikki from offering the couple her place in line. She had to get to the end today. Also, people would likely make a loud commotion if she tried to trade places with the couple. Besides, the line was already moving again, and she was about to be edged out of her small moment in the shade.

Dropping her gaze further, mostly out of a place of shame at staring too long at that belly, Rikki watched a little brown ant try to pull and lift a dead bug that was at least three times its size. The determination was admirable, and she found herself wondering if bugs were affected by the heat as much as humans were. Out came her cell phone, and a couple of seconds later the search engine spit out some options that might answer that question. Evidently, male insects were at higher risk during a heat wave, with infertility being a very real threat to the bug populations. Well, then. Rikki giggled a little at the oddity of that piece of information which now rested in the library of useless facts inside of her head. Useless facts that came out at strange moments and garnered her many peculiar looks from people. She wondered if that was why she could hear cicadas screaming in the distance, were their tiny balls frying? More giggles. Perhaps the heat was frying her brain too.

A bit more movement and the line snaked forward several feet. Rikki walked away from the busy little ant, weirdly hoping that it was a female. Once again out in the oppressive heat of the direct sunshine, Rikki slipped her backpack off and knelt on one knee as she unzipped it. Inside were two metal bottles, filled with ice water, a small container of trail mix, and a larger container with some cut fruit. When she stuck her banana yellow ball cap on in the morning, it didn’t even occur to her that she might tuck a small umbrella in her pack. Another tidbit to tuck away in that cranial library – this bit was useful. Might even be a good idea to simply keep a collapsible umbrella in the backpack at all times. Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it, as she was fond of saying. Was that the mantra that was repeated internally, on the road towards a life of hoarding? She hoped not, although she did like to collect things. Books, maps, rocks, unusual things… her home was definitely not toddler-proof. It was, however, always fun to look around and enjoy her décor.

Looking up in response to some grumbling around her, Rikki realized that the line had again shifted closer to the end goal. The bright blue door. She hastily grabbed up her backpack, still unzipped, and shuffled a dozen feet forward, stopping at a socially accepted distance from the couple in front of her. Setting her bag down, she again knelt to sip some cold water, and pop a piece of melon into her mouth. Chewing slowly, she pondered the two men in front of her. Were they a couple? If so, they were very good at being discreet. She smiled as they leaned their heads together and shared a whisper that clearly amused them. Their hands brushed; could have been accidental, but for the look that passed quickly between them. Rikki felt a sadness that people still felt a need to hide in plain sight, out of fear for their safety. With so many other things in the world to worry about it seemed ridiculous, to her, that people even bothered with what other people did with their lives.

After neatly replacing the water bottle and fruit container back in the pack, Rikki slipped her arms into the straps and reached for the sky in a huge stretch. Standing for the last hour on the hard pavement was making her lower back ache. Remembering the woman with the round belly, she turned to see if they had made it to the shade. Just a bit longer for them, and the woman might enjoy the small curb. If she could even get down that far; it didn’t seem like an easy task for the expectant woman to do at this time, to sit on a curb, no matter how much of a relief it would be. There was, instead, a young man standing in the shade. His head was bare, as if he believed that his long hair could protect his brain from the unrelenting heat. Directly behind him, a woman in a flowery sundress accompanying a small girl in a matching sundress. The woman wore a large floppy white hat; the child’s smaller pink bonnet was bowed as she squatted down. Rikki wondered if the girl was watching the ant or if something else had captured her attention. As she turned to face the blue door again, Rikki saw the tiny child smack her hand down to the pavement, as if to squish something.

With fewer than twenty people in the line ahead of her, the wait was hopefully less than another hour. That all depended on what each required once they entered the door. Some could be assisted quickly, yet others might dawdle with pointless questions as if they felt the need to make the long wait worthwhile, and there were a few unfortunates who could not be taken care of quickly. Rikki imagined that she would be able to answer their questions easily, allowing them to provide her with the correct documents to ensure her safe passage out of the red door that was about sixty meters to her left on the same grey wall as the blue door. Separating the blue entrance, and the red egress was a tall iron fence with spikes at the top of each of the spindles.

The process in between the blue and the red was what had brought so many strangers to gather in this serpentine mass. It brought them to stand in unbearable heat, not speaking with each other, except to mutter when someone was inattentive to the occasional forward movement of the line.

A process that was preceded by an official letter from the government. A letter that each recipient was instructed to bring with them when they attended the appointment on the day that was assigned to them. The letter was vague, mentioning only that the individual was compelled to attend without exception, and that they bring all of their current identification.

Rikki was now preoccupied with the people in front of her, having completely forgotten about the hugely pregnant couple and the bug squashing toddler. She had noticed an alarming fact. Not all who entered were exiting. Others in front of her seemed to have observed the same, as they were notably quieter and not as fidgety as they had all been. Some had gone in, and not come out. Now numbering about nine, the line in front of her was much shorter, and Rikki found herself not wishing for advancement as much as she had been half an hour before. Belatedly, due to the complacent life that she had been living, she realized that it had never occurred to her that she might need to worry about the reason for her obligation to attend this appointment.

A young couple with a small boy entered the blue door, escorted to the opening by armed men in uniform. Rikki noted the woman’s pink blouse, and the man’s green t-shirt; she wanted to see if they came out of the red door, and how long it took them to get through the process inside (whatever that may be).

About fifteen minutes later, Rikki was just putting her water bottle back into her backpack. She watched as the red door opened in the distance and the green shirt man walked out of the building. One hand clutched the hand of the boy, and his other hand was around the waist of his wife, who appeared very unsteady on her feet. She looked as though she was either about to faint, or she had just endured a very intense event. Although relieved by their appearance at the exit, the state that the woman was in made Rikki more anxious about what was ahead for herself.

Too quickly, Rikki found herself in the first position in the line. She wondered if it was a way to make people more compliant, making them wait for the unknown, in extreme heat, with no provisions for comfort along the way. Much like the meandering queues that cattle walked before entering the slaughterhouse. Before she could freak herself out further, the blue door opened, and the two militia-looking men walked alongside her. They stopped short of entering the chilly corridor with her, and she alone followed bright blue arrows on the floor towards another door.

Upon entering a what appeared to be a waiting room, Rikki was greeted formally by two attendants dressed in matching blue scrubs. They asked her name, requested her copy of the letter and her identification to verify that she was indeed the person who was supposed to be there. The man took her backpack, while the woman quickly frisked her person, before they motioned her toward yet another door.

Once inside, she was finally informed of the reason for her appointment. The doctor would be with her shortly, to inject her with a new vaccine that would protect her from a virulent form of an immunosuppressant disease that was currently being tracked by the World Safety Agency. When Rikki asked why she had never heard of the illness, the woman told her that it had been kept quiet to prevent mass panic until a preventative vaccine could be made available to all eligible citizens. The word eligible sparked another question, but before she could speak, the female attendant pushed a clipboard toward Rikki, explaining that a signature was required before the doctor could proceed. There was barely time for Rikki to read any of the document before it was rudely shoved against her again. As she opened her mouth to protest a need to read it first, the man spoke for the first time, “Those not vaccinated will be detained.”

As she finally walked out of the red door, the heat that had been so stifling before was actually welcomed by her. She was deeply chilled from the events that occurred between the bright blue door and the safety that lay beyond the red door. Her upper arm ached where the doctor had vaccinated her, after praising her for making a sensible choice. She wondered about the vaccine as she remembered seeing the letters RFID on the consent form; was actually beginning to feel lightheaded whether from anxiety or distress, she wasn’t sure. Distress about what happened or anxiety about what was next…

Randomly, Rikki wondered if human males were also at risk for lowered sperm counts due to the heat.