Rewind

Rewind

I look up at the TV screen and freeze. "DEADLY OUTBREAK IN CANADA!" streams across the top in a red banner. My mom catches me staring.

"Kasha, relax," she says, "We live a whole country away here in Florida. Plus, those news stories are just to get your attention. When I was your age, Ebola was supposed to be this huge deal, but I'm still alive, right?" I stare at her blankly for a few seconds, and then nod solemnly.

Mom heads out the door to work. I'm on winter break, but she still has four more days until the publishing company where she works closes for the holidays.

My dad just left us about a year ago. I still miss him, but it's not as bad as those first weeks. We know he's somewhere in the suburbs, but we don't visit because he and Mom really don't get along.

That is why today I am home alone. Here's my grand plan: sit on the couch and watch TV with short meal and snack breaks. Impressive, right? And that's how I spend the next few days.

On Friday, I plop down onto our brown leather couch as I reach for the remote, which is sitting on the marble card table. I prop my shoeless feet up onto the table. I flick on the TV and switch it to some old movie about a girl fighting other kids to the death. It's weird, but strangely interesting. Despite the intensity of the film, my eyes begin to droop during a scene where she and a really short, blond boy are hiding out in a cave.

I wake with a start to a beeping noise. I reach to turn off my alarm clock, but then I realize that I am on the couch, and it was the TV that made the sound. A reporter is telling of a 23 year-old man put in quarantine at the Hospital of Miami. It says that he came in on a train after visiting family in Canada a couple of days ago. His planned destination was Key West, but when the vehicle stopped in Miami, the medical officials were called in. He has the disease. According to the report, the symptoms resemble those of the Whooping Cough. The death toll is now over 20 and at least 35 are sick.

Then the screen goes black for a moment before returning to scheduled programs. Something about the same girl; I think her name is Katniss, but now she is with a different boy. He's tall, with brown hair instead of blond. They are in some underground place with ugly uniforms. What's up with these old movies? Are they all about the same girl? I change the channel.

I lower the TV volume. Strange, it sounds like someone is pulling into the driveway, which would be normal if my mom was supposed to be home now, but she shouldn't come back for a few more hours. I move aside the green-brown drapes and peer out the window cautiously. I guess Mom took of work early, because her blue Nissan is in the driveway. The door creaks open and I jump. I don't know why. My mom steps in, and she looks a little pale and very sinister.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

"I guess you were right," she says, "All of the stores are closing because of the Asthmatussis outbreak. It's a mixture of asthma and the Whooping Cough," she continues, "And the asthma spreads because of the Whooping Cough, even though it isn't contagious, asthma I mean." How does she know all of this?

And that's when she starts coughing. It's a sudden explosion of a sickly-sounding cough. Could she have it? The plague? No. no, she can't. How could she? She told me herself. She came home from work right after the shops closed, and the disease just got here. I take a deep breath, and I let it out.

She can see it in my eyes. I don't know if she's okay.

"I'm fine," she says, "Just my allergies." Neither of us believes her. Neither of us says anything, though. We eat dinner in silence. Afterward, we both go upstairs to bed. It has been a long and stressful day, and Mom needs the rest.