ARRIVAL
It was certainly interesting, Clara thought. History in the making.
The novel virus — officially termed Covid-19 to avoid any reference to its origins — had sparked a pandemic and made public outings a rare and cautious experience. Unnecessary social contact was discouraged until the authorities could bring the contagion under control, but food was essential to life, so there Clara was at the grocery store, picking up supplies and trying to keep as much distance as possible from the store staff and the other shoppers who were roaming the aisles.
It was eerie.
Not so eerie, however, as the phenomenon that went unseen at the store entrance.
Even the security cameras saw only shimmering red and blue hazes, each roughly the size of a person, proceed into the building and then part, heading in different directions deeper into the store.
No human eyes took note of them until Clara, who had been examining a bag of noodles, looked up to see a woman who hadn't been there a moment before. The woman was RED. Her hair was an unnatural, vivid red, her clothes were red, and, when Clara met the woman's eyes, she found that they were red too.
Clara was unsure which was more concerning: the presence of such a strange figure, or the proximity of someone who might be infected with a dangerous disease from overseas.
"Hello, child," the Red Woman said, even though she appeared to be roughly the same age as Clara. "You look like a charming specimen of your species. Tell me about yourself."
Then, the Red Woman waved her hand in a way that reminded Clara of a Jedi from Star Wars, and her concerns about the encounter evaporated.
"Oh, my name's Clara Oldershaw," Clara said, feeling not an iota of reluctance at opening up to a stranger. "I'm just picking up some groceries to take home. I live with my son, John. He's 18, and he eats like a teenager, so I'll have to grab plenty of food to keep him satisfied for the next few weeks, or however long we're holed up together."
"A troublesome boy, is he?"
"No, no — he's a good boy. Good grades, good prospects, very sweet ... but he doesn't take this pandemic seriously! He's always wanting to go out with his friends, or his dates, or go the gym, or whatever. He doesn't get that it's a big deal."
Clara really was proud of her son. It was difficult to be a single mom, but John did everything he could to make it easy, and he'd turned out so well that it justified all of her efforts and defied the statistics. He was so smart that his rejection of all of the warnings from the media and the government made her doubt the severity of the pandemic.
Fortunately, she could look to others to confirm her concerns. "You agree that it's a big deal, right?" Clara asked the stranger.
"On a certain scale, yes," the Red Woman said, though she didn't seem concerned. If anything, she was beginning to sound bored. "Otherwise, we wouldn't be here."
Clara appreciated the confirmation. "Well, I accept that boys his age are very ... energetic, but I wish I could distract him from his girlfriends and keep him at home until all of this is over."
A grin split the Red Woman's face, and she waved her hand at Clara again. "I'm so glad that you said so! There must be times when it's difficult to be the object of your son's sexual fixation."
"S-sexual fixation?" Clara said, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean?" Could the Red Woman know about what her son had done?
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Chapter 1
LAKSHMI
"I'm so glad that my shift is practically over," Lakshmi told the Blue Man. "I'm not really worried about being infected, but it's been so hectic here lately! This pandemic — it's very bad for restaurants, and theaters, and those things, but very good for groceries!"
She didn't know why she was being so talkative. The man was an absolute stranger, and she was supposed to be practicing "social distancing" ... but, when he waved his hand, it was as though her concerns were crumbs on a table, and he'd brushed them onto the floor. It was okay to tell him anything that he wanted to know.
Perhaps it was the calming aura about him. His clothes were a serene blue, his calm eyes were as blue as a the sky on a warm, summer day, and even his hair seemed to have a bluish tint to it. Did he color it to achieve that effect, or could it be natural? He looked as though he was around her age — far too old to be playing with strange hair colors, but there were a lot of immature, flamboyant men in this country.
Could it be the light? She looked around for something that was blue and reflective, but they were in the "baking needs" aisle of the grocery store, surrounded by matte, yellow packaging. The reflection off of a yellow bag of chocolate chips could hardly make the man look so blue.
"Bad for restaurants?" the Blue Man said.
"Absolutely!" Lakshmi said. "My brother manages our cousin's restaurant, and the government made him close it last week. He has been miserable! When I came here, to this country, he supported me, but now my income is the only income."
Lakshmi imagined her brother, Raman, sitting at home, slumped on the sofa, and watching the news on TV. She could understand his gloomy mood, but she wasn't looking forward to enduring when she arrived home.
"Isn't it dangerous for you to be in public, where you could get infected?" the Blue Man said. "Why aren't you at home with your brother?"
She thought about that. Certainly, the work environment had always been cold, and her manager was rude, so she didn't feel even remotely appreciated. Really, the entire country had been cold. When she left India, she had expected to find adventure and riches in the West, but those dreams quickly collided with reality. Now, she was stocking shelves at a grocery store, and her fondest dream was to find a dependable, Sikh man, start a family, and get out of retail.
"They don't really treasure their workers here, but I need to make money, and I am still responsible to show up for my shift," Lakshmi said. "We would be better in Amritsar. Our culture is better — much cleaner — so there are no cases of the Chinese virus. Also, my brother could get a wife, and he wouldn't be so miserable!"
