4 Sisters of the Apocalypse

26- Jo

Jo

I slept all night. Saying I have bedhead is an underestimate.  I throw my thick dark brown hair up in an actual messy bun. A summon an Uber to take me to the LIRR. In a few stops I'd be in my beloved Manhattan. Why is it easier for me to breathe there? Is it the pollution? The crowds? It's probably the buzz. The Big Apple is alive. I feel alive there! I can dress in sweatpants and feel at home or be dressed to the nines and turn heads. Part of me, like my sister Amy, enjoys turning heads. The other part of me would rather blend into the background like Beth.

In a flash I'm underground in Penn Station, I take a whiff of the stagnant air. It smells like donuts, a musty basement and train engines. Perfect! I easily found the 7th Ave exit and bound up the stairs two at a time. The frigid February air assaults me but I wrap my thick navy infinity scarf around my nose and push on. Only 10 blocks and I'll be at my cosy new apartment in Chelsea.

There are no more town criers in the streets but on everyblock there are newsstands and the headlines jump out at me,  "Coming Pandemic!"  "Trump Dumps the WHO."

I stop to read an article. The guy inside his tiny mobile store barks, "You read you buy."

I threw him a five dollar bill and asked, "You got any hot coffee Joe?" 

He complains, "Get outta here! It's always hot and it's always fresh! Two dollars!"

I order a coffee--regular. (For those of you who aren't from New York a regular coffee is cream and 2 sugars.) It was neither hot nor fresh. As I sip the bitter brew I attempt reading the articles about the coming pandemic as I make my way downtown to my apartment.

After reaching 24th Street I spot my new home. Of course the elevator is busted and I need to climb the stairs to the 9th floor. No wonder I hardly see overweight people in the city. When I finally make it to number 907 I hear arguing coming from inside.

"Where am I supposed to go?"

"Bob, we've told you for months you've needed to go."

Bob whined, "I know and I've been looking but there's nowhere."

I hear my sensitive artist friend trying to reason with Bob but she's an artist--the gentle passive kind. "Look, Jo is on her way. We just want girls to live here. It's nothing personal."

Bob became enraged. "Nothing personal? NOTHING PERSONAL?!"

I knew things weren't going to get better. I needed to play mediator. I took a deep breath and pounded on the door. "Hey Sarah it's me Jo!"

As Sarah opened the door she pulled me inside.

Bob gave me a dirty look. "Is this my replacement?"

Sarah tried to smooth things over. "No one is replacing you Bob."

I cut to the chase. "Yeah Bob, no one wants to replace you, we just want you to leave."

Bob choked. I guess he wasn't used to having a girl stand up to him. I saw a duffel bag and a ratty backpack near the door. I picked them up. "Are these your things?"

"Duh they're my things! I'm being kicked out!"

I slung Bob's backpack over his shoulder and hooked arms with him. He smelled like sweat and salami. "Let's go somewhere and talk, Bob..."

He protested, "I don't wanna go anywhere with you--"

*Poof*. Bob and I ended up in Washington Square Park. We were under the white bridge to nowhere.

"What the--?" Bob was disoriented.

From my recollection this had never happened to me before. I hadn't teleported since I was a child and as far as I knew I'd never brought anyone with me although mom's journals said otherwise.

Bob turned in a slow circle then looked at me with his heavily hooded highly dilated eyes. "Are you some sort of witch? How'd you bring me here?"

I covered. "I could ask you the same thing Bob. Are you on some sort of medication?"

"Just my medical marijuana why?" Bob looked paranoid.

"That explains it." I laughed. "You'd better be careful Bob. That stuff could kill you."

"It's a plant girlie."

"I wasn't talking about the cannabis Bob. Leave me and Sarah alone or you might end up in North Korea next time." With that I vanished.

*Poof* I'm back in the apartment. Sarah looks quite confused. "Where did you go? Where's Bob?"

I hugged Sarah. "I took him outside for a reasonable conversation. I don't think we'll be seeing him again.

"What did you say?" Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. "It's not so much what I said but how I said it."

"Oh Jo, I wish I could be brave like you." Sarah still had the faintest of an Irish accent.

"Ha! I'm not brave, I'm plucky remember?"

"Ah yes, the pluckiest," Sarah agreed.

"Where's Nells? Is she working today?"  Nells is our third apartment mate.
"No, she got really sick. She was up all night with a high fever and coughing. She went to the emergency room this morning."

I absentmindedly hugged myself. "I hope she'll be ok."

"Me too," agreed Sarah. "She didn't look so well and the poor thing has no insurance."

"Join the club." Since I quit school and my dad retired I too had joined the masses of uninsured young adults.

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