Quarantine
"Just great!" Coby Mulgrew exclaimed when he saw the digital readout on the thermometer. "First, we had to cancel our vacation plans and now this!"
"Let me see," his mother said, taking the thermometer from his hand. "One hundred two. I'm going to have to take you to be tested."
Barbara Mulgrew went to the kitchen where she kept a supply of N95 masks. She put one over her nose and mouth and handed a second one to her son.
"You mean I have to wear this thing in the house, too?" the ten-year-old complained.
"Yes. You've got symptoms. If the test is negative, then you can take it off."
"What about Lori Ann?" the boy asked, referring to his five-year-old sister. "Won't she have to wear one, too?"
"She's in her room right now. She'll have to stay there until we know it's safe for her to come out."
Barbara got a third mask and walked to the home office where her husband was sitting at the desk, working on his computer.
"Coby has a fever," she announced. "I'm taking him to the immediate care center to be tested."
"Damn it! I knew something like this would happen if they opened the schools up. He's only been back for two days, and he's already sick!"
"Whether his results are positive or negative, I'm going to look into online learning."
"Where's Lori Ann?"
"She's still sleeping. I'm going to quarantine her in her room until I know it's safe. Will you tell her when she wakes up? Coby and I probably won't be back for a while. The care center gets pretty crowded, even at this early hour."
"Sure," Dylan said, donning his own mask. "Good luck."
"Thanks."
When she pulled into the parking lot of the immediate care center, Barbara was relieved to see there were several available parking spots. That meant the place was not filled to capacity. As she and her son entered the building, they were greeted by several signs urging them to maintain the recommended distance between themselves and the other patients.
"I heard on the news that some of the pharmacies are doing testing at their drive-thru windows," Coby said, taking a seat in the far corner of the room.
"That seems like a good way to enforce social distancing," his mother commented.
"I wonder if you can get an order of fries along with your test," the boy laughed.
"I doubt it, but they might offer a lollipop," she said, trying to match her son's good humor and not give in to the fear that she had been holding at bay since the pandemic altered their lives.
Meanwhile, as mother and son waited at the walk-in clinic, Lori Ann woke up and went out to the kitchen for breakfast.
"Mommy?" she called.
Upon hearing his daughter's voice, Dylan put his mask back on and went to speak to her.
"Where's Mommy?" she asked when he entered the kitchen.
"She had to take your brother to be tested. He might have the virus."
"What should I do?"
"For one thing, you're going to have to stay in your room."
"Without breakfast? Am I being punished for something?"
"No," her father assured her. "It's a precaution. If Coby is sick, we don't want you to catch it. Now, why don't you go play with your dolls, and I'll bring your breakfast to you?"
"Okay."
"What do you want? Cereal? Pancakes? French toast?"
Since her father's cooking skills were vastly inferior to her mother's, the girl opted for a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. The last time her father made her a pancake the inside was still raw.
Back in her room, Lori Ann looked at her collection of dolls on the shelf beside her closet. There were quite a few to choose from: more than a dozen LOL dolls, a handful of Barbies, Baby Alive, Frozen's Elsa and Anna, an American Girl and a well-worn Cabbage Patch Kid. She took her Baby Alive down and sat it across from her at the child-size Peppa Pig table. A few minutes later her father brought her breakfast in and set it in front of her.
"I didn't realize you had company," he teased when he saw the doll sitting in the second chair. "I'm afraid I only brought enough Cheerios for one."
"That's okay. She's on a diet."
Dylan smiled down at his daughter, praying that she would not be the next one to exhibit symptoms of the coronavirus.
* * *
When Barbara returned home from the clinic, she immediately put her son to bed.
"What'd they say?" Dylan asked.
"We should get the results in a day or two. How's Lori Ann?"
"I gave her a bowl of cereal, and she's playing in her room."
"For now, I think it's best I keep my distance from the both of you."
"No problem. You take care of Coby; I'll keep an eye on Lori Ann."
"Just to be on the safe side, I can sleep in the family room while I'm self-quarantining."
"No," her husband insisted, "I'll take the family room. That way you can be near Coby if he needs you in the middle of the night."
With the two children confined to their bedrooms and Dylan busy at work in his home office, Barbara gave the house a good cleaning, wiping down nearly every surface with disinfectant. When she was finished, she made herself a cup of coffee and took it to the master bedroom where she plopped down on the bed with a magazine. Through the open door, she could hear her daughter playing in the next room.
It's going to be hard on her, she thought. She's not used to being cooped up all day.
So far, however, the little girl had managed to entertain herself. After finishing her cereal, she assembled a twenty-four-piece jigsaw puzzle featuring Snoopy and the Peanuts gang. Once the last piece was in place, she took it apart, put the pieces back in the box and got out her coloring book and crayons.
"Everything okay in there?" her masked father asked from the doorway.
"I'm making a picture for Mommy," Lori Ann answered. "See?"
She held up the book to reveal an orange-faced Cinderella with green hair and a purple dress.
"That's nice, sweetheart! You're a regular Picasso, aren't you?"
"What a Picasso?"
"One of the greatest artists of all time."
The girl beamed from ear to ear at her father's compliment.
"Daddy has got to get back to work now. Okay? You let me know if you need anything."
Once she grew bored coloring, she opened her container of LEGO DUPLO bricks. That kept her busy for another hour. Soon afterward, Dylan brought in her lunch.
"I made you a grilled cheese sandwich," he announced.
As usual, he had turned the heat up too high. The bread was slightly charred, and the cheese had not melted all the way through. Still, he had given it his best effort.
"Maybe we'll get pizza for dinner," he said—although not much of a cook, as a computer software analyst, he was more than capable of placing an online order to Domino's.
When her father departed, leaving her alone again, Lori Ann looked around her room, wondering what to do next. Despite all the dolls, toys, games and books she owned, she was getting bored and restless.
And her quarantine had only just begun.
* * *
Dylan Mulgrew sat on the couch in the basement family room, looking at the last slice of pizza in the grease-stained box. Normally, he enjoyed those rare moments of peace and quiet, but this eerie silence made him long to have his family around him. Boredom, not hunger, made him reach for the cold wedge of pizza. Just as he was tossing the uneaten crust into the box, Lori Ann appeared in the doorway.
"What are you doing up?" he asked. "You ought to be in bed. In fact, you're not supposed to be out of your room."
"There's a girl outside my window," his daughter said.
"Maybe she's visiting the old couple next door."
"She asked me to let her come inside."
After escorting the child back to her room, Dylan went to the mullioned window and looked out.
"There's no one there," he declared. "So, why don't you go back to bed and get some sleep?"
"It's warm in here. Can you open the window?" Lori Ann asked as she got beneath the sheet.
"Sure. I don't think a little fresh air is going to hurt you."
He opened the window about three inches. Then he turned and blew his daughter a kiss.
"Goodnight, princess."
Just moments after her father left the room, the little girl heard the soft knocking on the wooden sill. She got up from her bed and spoke to the dark-haired stranger through the crack in the open window.
"Open the screen and let me in," the visitor implored.
"I can't. I'd like to, but I don't know how to get the screen out."
"You want me to play with you, don't you? You don't want to be alone in your room, day after day, with no one to talk to or play with."
"We can talk through the window," Lori Ann pointed out. "Just like we're doing now."
"I can't stay out here all night. You've got to let me in."
"But there's no way I can get the screen out by myself. My father puts them in for the summer and takes them out when the weather gets cold. If I go get him, you won't run away again, will you?"
"No! You mustn't get your father. You know how grownups are. They never let you have any fun."
"Maybe we can ...."
There was a tapping on the bedroom door, and the strange little girl vanished into the night.
"Daddy? Is that you?" Lori Ann asked.
"No. It's Mommy. I thought I heard voices coming from your room. Have you got the television on?"
Although she was not prone to lying, the child was not always completely truthful.
"It was me. I was talking to my doll."
"Well, it's getting late. You get to sleep. Maybe tomorrow you can play on your swings in the back yard."
"Good night, Mommy."
Lori Ann got into bed and closed her eyes, but it was more than an hour before she could fall asleep. It was difficult to ignore the plaintive entreaties from the little girl outside her window.
* * *
Dylan brought another bowl of cereal to his daughter the following morning. He also sent food to his wife and son, who were still self-quarantining in their respective bedrooms. The father was the only one in the house with a limited amount of freedom. Should Coby, in fact, have the virus, Dylan would no doubt be relied upon to take charge of things and care for his family.
"Mommy said I can go out and play on the swings today," Lori Ann announced when her father returned for the empty cereal bowl and spoon.
"That's a great idea. You don't want to stay inside all day. You need some sunshine, fresh air and exercise."
The little girl dressed quickly and hurried down the hall, through the kitchen and out the back door. She was disappointed when she found the backyard play area deserted, having secretly hoped the stranger outside her window would be there waiting for her.
Dylan sat at his desk with the window open, one ear listening to the creaking of the swing as his daughter swung back and forth.
"Hello?" she called into her neighbor's wooded yard. "Are you there?"
"Lori Ann?" her attentive father called, looking out his window to make sure no one had entered the yard. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes, Daddy. I'm just playing."
The little girl went from the swings to the sliding pond, and then from the sliding pond to her sandbox. By midmorning, she was back in the house.
"I'm bored," she announced from the doorway of her father's office.
Dylan felt bad for his child. She should have been starting kindergarten this year, but since the pandemic was still going strong, he and his wife thought it best to postpone school until the following year. They were not even willing to send her back to preschool.
"What do you say you and I go watch a movie together in the family room?"
The little girl's eyes widened with joy.
"Really? But don't you have to work?"
"Don't worry about that. My work will still be there when the movie's over."
After sitting through Zootopia for the umpteenth time, Dylan made lunch for himself and his children. He opted for Velveeta and shells rather than grilled cheese since all he had to do was cook the pasta in boiling water and squeeze the cheese onto it from the foil package. He then left a prepackaged salad for Barbara, who was anxiously awaiting word from the clinic about her son's test results.
"I wish they'd call already," she said through the closed bedroom door. "This not knowing is killing me."
"I'm leaving your lunch here on the floor. You need anything else? Magazines? Books? I can always run to the store to pick something up."
"No. I'm good for now."
After putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, Dylan was able to return to work. Lori Ann, who had not gotten much sleep the previous night, took a long nap. Finally, at five o'clock, he walked away from his computer.
That's it, he thought. I'm done for the day.
Now, he was faced with having to prepare dinner since he did not want to eat pizza for two nights in a row. Nor could he rely on his old standbys, grilled cheese and Velveeta and shells. Thankfully, Barbara kept a small selection of family-sized frozen dinners, which she called "emergency meals," in the freezer. He heated up Salisbury steaks (glorified hamburgers) and opened up cans of peas and creamed corn.
"I'm no Emeril Lagasee or Wolfgang Puck," he apologized when he left his wife's plate outside the bedroom door, "but here's dinner."
"Hopefully, I'll be able to get out of here tomorrow," Barbara said. "Then you won't have to cook."
"If not, it'll be Chinese takeout. Either that or I'll have to run to the grocery store. I used the last of the emergency meals."
As Dylan sat alone in the family room that evening, watching the sun go down on the second day of quarantine, he heard his daughter's voice coming from her room.
"Are you okay in there?" he asked, opening her door.
"That little girl is—was—back," she answered, noticing the stranger left the moment her father appeared.
"What little girl?"
"The one who was outside my window last night. She came back. She wanted me to open the screen and let her inside."
Dylan was no stranger to imaginary friends. Coby had had one when he was five. The best way to deal with the situation was to just play along.
"We'll, if she comes back, you tell her no one is allowed in the house because of the virus. I'm sure she won't want to risk getting sick."
The strange waif of a child returned once Dylan closed the bedroom door. For close to an hour, she alternately cajoled and pleaded to be let inside.
"I already told you! I can't open the screen!" Lori Ann cried, wishing the stranger would leave her alone.
"Then go to the front door and let me in."
"I'm not allowed to open the door without asking my parents first. You don't want me to get in trouble, do you?"
When she heard her father's footsteps in the hall as he went to say goodnight to her mother, Lori Ann laid her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. She knew he would check on her before going to bed. At least his presence would temporarily banish the girl outside the window. Thankfully, she did not return for the rest of the night.
* * *
The call from the clinic came shortly before eleven in the morning. After speaking to the nurse, Barbara emerged, sans her mask, from the bedroom, smiling, and announced the news to her husband.
"The test was negative!" she cried. "Coby doesn't have the virus!"
"Does that mean I have to go back to school now?" the boy asked, coming out of his own room.
"No, I've signed you up for remote learning. You'll remain at home and do your schoolwork on your computer until things get back to normal—whenever that may be."
"I'm just glad to be out of my room," he said. "Can I go out and play?"
"Sure. Just stay in the back yard. It's still not safe to mingle with other people."
Good news—and the negative test results definitely qualified as such—needed to be celebrated. That night, rather than cook dinner, Barbara had meals from Red Robin delivered by Grubhub.
"Onion rings! Mmmm!" Dylan exclaimed when he opened the bag of food. "This sure beats canned peas and creamed corn."
"And we've got dessert," his wife announced. "While you were working and the kids were in the back yard playing, I baked a cake."
"It's funny how this pandemic makes us appreciate the little things in life we normally overlook," he said.
"Like hamburgers and French fries," his son laughed.
"And chocolate cake," Lori Ann added.
"And all of us sitting at the same table when we eat dinner," Dylan said, affectionately squeezing his wife's hand.
After the dining room table was cleared, Barbara took the board games down from the top of the hall closet. Family game nights were a treat for both the children and adults. They played the easier games first so that Lori Ann could play along: Candy Land, Trouble, Operation and Chutes and Ladders. They then progressed to Bingo and Yahtzee (which she could play with help from her parents).
Finally, it was the little girl's bedtime. Yawning, she put up no argument as her mother tucked her in. While her family was at the dining room table playing Life, Lori Ann lay beneath the sheets, listening to the sound of the rain outside. What had started as a light shower soon intensified into a steady downpour. A sudden flash of lightning revealed a figure outside her window. The stranger had returned. She was standing in the rain, her long dark hair dripping wet and her clothes soaked through.
"Please let me in," she begged, her tears mingling with the raindrops on her cheeks.
"I can't," Lori Ann said again, but with less conviction than on the previous two nights.
"Your family is in the dining room. They won't see you if you tiptoe out into the hall and open the front door."
"But if they find out ...."
"They won't! I'll be quiet. I promise I won't make a sound. They'll never know I'm here."
Another flash of lightning followed by a deafening crash of thunder frightened Lori Ann.
"Please! It's cold and wet out here, and I'm afraid of thunderstorms."
"I'm scared of them, too," the younger girl confessed.
"Quick! Before another flash of lightning comes, go open the door."
Sounds of laughter from the dining room indicated that her parents and brother were busy playing the game.
"All right," she said, giving in to the stranger's pleas.
Lori Ann got out of bed, tiptoed down the hall and silently opened the door. She put her index finger to her lips to indicate that the visitor was to be quiet. Then she tried to sneak the girl back down the hall to her bedroom. However, the stranger—oddly enough, no longer wet—did not follow.
"This way," she whispered.
But the dark-haired stranger walked in the opposite direction.
"No!" Lori Ann said, trying to keep her voice down.
The laughter in the dining room suddenly stopped.
"Who are you?" Dylan asked when he saw the stranger in the doorway.
"My name was Shana."
"Was? Why did you change your name?"
"I have no need of one. I am an acheri."
"Is that some kind of an Indian?" Coby wondered, thinking the name sounded like a mash-up of Cherokee and Apache.
"Yes, in the sense that the name comes from India."
"And what exactly are you doing in our home?" Barbara demanded to know.
When Dylan saw his daughter peaking from behind the kitchen wall, he guessed the answer to his wife's question.
"You're the little girl who appeared outside my daughter's window, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"What little girl?" Barbara asked.
"I thought it was some kind of imaginary friend, but I see I was wrong," Dylan explained.
His wife continued to interrogate the child.
"What are you doing here? Where are your parents?"
Rather than answer any more questions, the acheri walked into the kitchen and turned on the overhead light.
"Answer me," Barbara commanded. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
The stranger headed back toward the dining room, reached up her hand and turned off the chandelier above the table. She remained in the doorway with her back to the kitchen light, her body blocking its glow. Dylan was the first to be touched by the acheri's shadow, followed by his wife and then his son. One after another they fell to the ground with coughing fits so severe they could barely breathe.
"Mommy! Daddy!" Lori Ann cried, as she ran to her fallen parents. "Coby!"
"Leave them alone," the dark-haired girl said gently.
"But they're sick. They need help."
Moments later there was silence in the room.
"They're all right now," the stranger declared.
"But they're not breathing."
"They feel no pain."
"I let you inside and you killed my family!" the little girl wailed. "You're a monster!"
"I was once a normal child just like you. I had a family, friends, a home. Then something bad happened to me, and now I'm an acheri."
"What is that?"
"The ghost of a little girl who was murdered or abused and left to die. It's like an angel, sort of. It brings disease and death to people by casting its shadow over them."
"That makes you a monster," Lori Ann insisted, and then collapsed in tears upon her mother's body.
"Don't cry. They're at peace now."
The acheri then walked toward the sole surviving member of the Mulgrew family. When her shadow fell on the grieving little girl, the human child coughed several times—nothing near as severe as the illness that claimed her parents' and brother's lives. It was over quickly.
"It's done," the person once known as Shana said. "Now you're an acheri like me."
"I am? But I don't feel any different."
"We can go now."
"But what about my parents and Coby?"
"When their bodies are found, people will assume they died from the virus, which, in a way, they did. They'll notice you're gone, and they'll search for you—just like they searched for me when I was taken from the schoolyard by that man. But they won't find you because you'll be with me."
"Where we will go?"
"Anywhere we want to. You and I, and the others like us, are needed everywhere in the world."
The two girls clasped hands in friendship and left the house. The following evening, once the last rays of daylight faded from the sky, they would visit a nearby amusement park where not even facemasks or social distancing would save the people who were unlucky enough to be cast in their shadow of death.
Salem never opens the windows to strangers. They might come inside and steal his chocolate stash.
