Lockdown Summer

IV. As You Can Hear

Lockdown Day 3

I ended the call with my mom after I assured her that I'm doing fine here. Things were still lax in the province, so that's a bit of a relief.

"Mindy," I said, "shuffle AM by Arctic Monkeys."

Pablo was standing in his doorway when I turned around from the cupboards. He looked at me with surprise and rage while R U Mine? was playing.

"Tell me you didn't do something to Mindy."

I shrugged.

"You, sneaky, freaky weirdo! You hacked Mindy!"

I wouldn't call it hacking, though. His program was easy to crack, and the scripts needed some saving. If he really wanted this thing to work, he had a lot to improve.

"I may have fixed it up a bit, as you can hear," I said. "So, you're welcome."

"Is this another of your ways to shove it up to me that you're a better programmer?"

"I am better than you."

He's about to respond, but Rica interrupted us by entering from the front door.

"Where have you been?" I asked, and it's too late to realize that I sounded like an overprotective dad or an overbearing boyfriend.

"Gee, you sound like Dennis. I was just outside, getting some sun. Oh," she handed me a piece of paper, "the lady over house one gave me this."

Pablo and I read the notice. We needed to authorize one person per household to have a Quarantine Pass. Only that one can go out to do necessary errands.

"I'm dead most of the time during the day, man," I said.

We couldn't let Rica do it because she's new here. So, I got Pablo cornered.

He sighed. "Can I, at least, borrow your bike?"

"Sure."

My reply surprised him. "Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"Okay."

I should stop calling it mine, though.

***

That evening, when I went down for my daily dose of coffee, something changed.

There's a clipboard hanging on a loose nail on the wall by the dining table, with a white bond paper tucked on it. There's a handwritten chart of chores with our three names on them, evenly distributed across each day of the week.

That's certainly not my handwriting, and I know Pablo's.

"So, are we going to earn gold stars from now on?" I asked Rica, who's slouched on the couch.

"Only if you deserve them," she said without taking her eyes off the TV.