Murder in a Time of Covid (part 1)

A Story by Kajsa Williams

A clinical depressive, bored out of her mind by "sheltering in place" learns that her neighbor has dropped dead of a heart attack and notices something odd.

Am I drinking too much? Yes I am. I tell myself that I will compensate for my behavior later. Ever so often, my psyche rebels against COVID-19 restrictions. But even more so, I rebel against the government that wants to sacrifice lives for jump starting the economy. I also rebel against the testosterone poisoned jerks that haul huge guns around, demanding that the country behave as if the current health disaster doesn't exist. I can't believe what's happening to me. One moment after I open my eyes my hatred begins to seep in, opposing the "Folks who can't survive the virus are going to rot. So what?" segment of my country's population.

Okay. That's where I am mentally. Not so great. Physically, I'm tired because I was awakened by police sirens outside my bedroom window at 5:00 A.M. Apparently my healthy, pleasant, 48-year-old neighbor died last night. It wasn't COVID either, I learned early this afternoon. It was a heart attack. How can this be, I wondered. This is the last guy on earth I would expect to die young. He had a "lovely" family-- wife and two kids-- and worked at something involving agronomy. Since agronomy is not related to anything "vital" by our current administration's standards, he hasn't been working for the past two months. He's been puttering around in his extensive garden, playing with his kids, and drinking cocktails in his yard with his wife (also a totally normal person). He was what my friends vaguely define as "a science person" so it is inconceivable to me that he didn't get regular check ups. If he'd had a heart problem I'm sure he would have known about it. People don't just randomly drop dead at the age of 48.

I guess it's just another injustice in a time when 100,000 random people have dropped dead of an obscure virus from 12,000 miles away. I shouldn't be bitter. I should just be thankful that I haven't contracted the virus yet. Of course my husband and I keep our house "safe". Very few people have entered since February and those people wore masks and gloves. They were bending over backwards to show that contacting their small businesses hadn't been a mistake. It doesn't matter what you do. When your number comes up... that's it.

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I drink and I watch the police ransack my dead neighbor's yard. What else can I do? My favorite places in the outside world ar all closed. Obviously I can't watch what's happening inside the house but I watch the police (authorities... whatever they are) go over the outside of the house and the garden with a fine tooth comb. Is this normal? They're going around the garden brushing little samples of dirt into plastic bags. I've never lived next door to someone who had a heart attack, but this doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Did he have a heart attack because he inhaled a bad fertilizer? His wife and his kids hang out in that garden all the time. They seem to be okay.

I hesitate to mention all this to my husband, Robert. I'm a clinical depressive who's put him through the wringer a number times in the past. If I discuss this he will suggest that I need to check in with my psychiatrist and have my meds adjusted. When he says things like that it feels incredibly degrading. It's like I am a collection of malfunctioning hormones swirling around in a petrie dish, slowly breaking down to nothing. But who can blame him? He's put up with it for 20 years. M husband has been a saint in dealing with me-- I can't understand why he hasn't dumped me a long time ago.

One of the wretched things about having a mental illness is that you can't trust yourself. Sometimes your perceptions are twisted and you have no authority as a human being to act upon what you believe to be true. (What could be more degrading?) But there's something just plain odd about this. I guess I'll wait and then chat with my depressive colleagues online. If they think it's odd too, I'll mention it.

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Talking it out with Lorrie in a chat room:

ME: Hey Lorrie. Would you mind helping me out with something? I need your objective opinion on whether something is weird or whether I'm just losing it .

LORRIE: If your counting on me to be a 'Rock of Gibraltar of Sanity' you're making a BIG mistake. But your meds have been working fine for a decade. Why are you even asking this? Of course I'll try to help but.... You're way beyond the 'is it real?' stage. If you think it's weird, it's probably weird. What's up?

ME: Like everyone else I've been sitting around doing nothing for longer than I'd like. My imagination might be running wild, but ... I just found out that my ultra healthy, New Age, agronomist neighbor has dropped dead of a heart attack. He's 48. That in itself is strange. But looking outside my study window this morning I saw all these cops taking soil samples from his garden Does that seem odd to you? Why would they be taking samples from his garden?

LORRIE: You really ARE bored. Have you talked it out with Rob yet?

ME: Not really. I don't want to come off as a nosy, mentally unbalanced jerk. Can you think of any reason they'd be collecting these samples?

LORRIE: I have no idea. Is this the professor/agronomist guy who works at Hudson University? Maybe someone from his lab at work is collecting samples because he died and can't collect them himself any more. Do you know anything about his work? What made you think that the people collecting the stuff were cops? Were they wearing police uniforms ? I agree that a healthy 48-year-old's dropping dead is odd. But... it happens. I guess you'd need to see more of his medical records to have any intelligent opinion at all-- but you can't possibly do that.

ME: I could just ask his wife why those guys were there.

LORRIE: Forget it. It's probably a sensitive topic. Asking for someone's medical records is creepy. Why should you care? No offence but it's really none of your business. I guess you could come up with an excuse.... 'Is something wrong with the garden next door? Could whatever it is have moved into my yard?". If the wife's freaking out you should wait a while. She doesn't need a neighbor's bored conspiracy theory adding on to the chaos of a husband's death. Do you even know her?

ME: Well.... No. We wave at each other when we put out the garbage. Her name is Rachael. She seems a little younger than me and has long, dark hair. She's been the perfect, pleasant, unobtrusive neighbor. We have "Neighborhood Watch" and would call each other if we saw an intruder messing around on our private property. But that's never happened. You're right, she's probably keeling over with grief now. Losing a husband... Ugh. Nothing that horrible has ever happened to me.

LORRIE: Yup. Using her family tragedy to relieve your boredom might be...well... below the caliber of how you normally try to behave. No offense. But you asked for my honest opinion and that's it. Just leave her alone. Does she have a dog? As a neighbor you could offer to walk her dog or something. She's probably barely making it through the day and needs time alone, to grieve. Ask her if you can do any grunt-work for her to make her life easier. Maybe you could pick up her groceries or something?

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Lorrie, my fellow-clinical-depressive friend, is right about two things. One: Having nosy bad manners because I'm bored is self-indulgent. I should try to be a helpful grown-up or leave Rachel alone . Two: I should have stopped doubting my own perceptions a long time ago. My medication works. If I think something's odd, it's probably odd. Being insecure is an energy drain on everyone around you. Times are hard enough now without my being 'needy' when no one I know is even sick".

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© 2020 Kajsa Williams

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Reviews

Author Gus

This is high quality writing. Grammatically sound which is rare on this site but essential in not losing readers attention. It is hard to focus on the content if I have to decipher to text. It Has a strong premise and makes a clear promise. (The promise being an answer to 'what/who caused the neighbor's death.') If you are unfamiliar with promises and payoffs in writing I would recommend looking it up, but you did it here so good job!

I feel like it was cut where it was for length, just because it is an odd place to step out of the story. Almost feels more like an anti-climatic ending than a cliffhanger (I had to scroll up and make sure it had indeed said 'part 1'). Honestly I would probably have concluded part one without the online chat. Unless the conversation adds something to the mystery. Could be as simple as Lorrie saying it did seem odd. Mayhaps Lorrie asks if he and his wife ever fought or comes right out and just asks if the narrator thinks it could have been a murder.

I look forward to reading part 2! I