The "Us" in Virus

~3~

It had now been two hours since the dentist retrieved the water and resumed his journey. About an hour back, he had finally been able to ditch the shopping cart. Now, his excessive amount of Aquafina water bottles was stacked in a child's Radio Flyer wagon; though, for some reason, the wagon was an unsettling shade of fuchsia instead of the characteristic red, and the letters "Raoflyr" had been painted over to leave the letters "di...e" in ghostly white. But he paid little attention to these things, just muttering "Kids will be kids," as he threw out the thirteen copies of the 2019 live action Dora the Explorer movie that had occupied the wagon. All he really cared about was that he had found something to replace the shopping cart. After abandoning it, he had even salted and burned the gimpy wheel, convinced that no earthly physical law could account for such an unholy thing. 

At this moment, the sun was still high, though the smoke from all the street fires dimmed its light. Plus, clouds were moving in from the distance -- malevolent looking clouds. Maybe he'd get the chance to use his rainwater collection apparatus after all. 

But for right now, as all good dentists do, he ignored the warning signs of future trouble and just smiled with his pearly whites. He had escaped danger, and he knew exactly how to get home. With each step, his burden felt lighter and his hopes higher. Jauntily, he started whistling some esoteric melody from the depths of one of Mahler's lesser symphonies. He was just about to move on to some lieder when a hand grabbed his shoulder. 

He spun around, startled. In front of him was an old woman. A really, really old woman. A woman so old that she looked like the antagonist from Indiana Jones: The Last Crusade after he drinks from the wrong grail. Her frizzled grey hair and sagging skin made her appear as a troll doll that had been melted in the oven and forced to apply for Medicare. The dentist felt that without her tight-fitting AARP V-neck, she might just fall apart. 

She slowly removed her wraith-like hand from his shoulder, and stared at him through her cloudy cataracts. Despite her fragility, she radiated confidence and resolve. 

"Sorry to bother you, young lad...," she said with a faint and fluttery voice, "but have you happened to stumble upon a Toys 'R' Us anywhere around here?"

The dentist was stunned. Then confused. Then, for some reason, his head felt like he had brain-freeze, which made him more stunned and confused. Approximately one thousand and three questions flew around his mind, and he was at a loss for words. This was the end of the world, ushered in by a pandemic that disproportionately killed the elderly. If a single virus particle even flirted with the idea of maybe touching her, she'd probably spontaneously combust right then and there. 

She continued to stare at him, so he tried to piece together his thoughts.

"Ummm, ma'am, uhh, you know it's like the end of the world, right? What are you doing looking for a Toys 'R' Us?"

She squinted her eyes, sizing him up. Then, she scoffed. The dentist hadn't been aware that a scoff could be that condescending. 

"For a green lightsaber, you fool." She stated it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. As if he had asked her where the sky was. "So, have you seen one?"

The dentist was still confused, now about the ambiguity of the word "one" in that sentence. Was she referring to a lightsaber or a Toys 'R' Us? The semantic uncertainty of her question irked him. But even more than that, why was this old-as-dust lady out in the middle of a goddamn pandemic searching for -- not a red -- but a green lightsaber? So he asked her:

"Why are an old-as-dust lady like you out in the middle of a goddamn pandemic searching for -- not a red -- but a green lightsaber?"

The lady paused, sighed, and then lowered herself onto the ground. She pulled out a steaming pot of chamomile tea and poured herself a cup.