Amy

I reached Jo's flat in seconds flat. Ha! I'd made a joke in my mind. I wonder if people realize how clever I actually am? I rather like calling apartments flats. It's more exotic like me. Although I'm not sure why Londeners call apartments: flats. Are their buildings flat? We'd been to Paris when I was younger. I wanted to head over to London but we'd run out of money. Jo said it was my fault. How could it be my fault? Then I remembered saying, "I'd prefer..." No one understood my powers of persuasion back then--except mother. The next time I opened my mouth to say, "I'd prefer--" She covered my mouth and gave me, "The Look." It's like a powerful death stare and I never ever said, "I'd prefer" again--until recently.

This morning I read in my little pink book, "There is a season for everything under heaven..." I think it's the season for, "I prefer."

The elevator in Jo's apartment didn't work. It looked as if it hadn't worked in some time. "How do people carry up their groceries or babies in prams?

By the time I reached number 904 I couldn't catch my breath. While knocking I muttered, "As... head... cheerleader... this shouldn't... be so...hard."

A brusk voice yelled at me through the door. "Go away! We don't want any!"

I texted Jo asking if I had the right flat.

She came to the door and led me inside.

A pasty balding man who appeared to be in his late twenties grumbled. "Not another one..."

Jo introduced us. "Bob, this is my youngest sister, Amy."

I curtseyed involuntarily. "How do you do Bob?"

Bob brushed soggy Rice Chex off his lap."Did you just curtsy? I'm not the Queen of England ya know..."

"No doubt." I rolled my eyes. I could kick my ballet teacher for making us curtsy before and after class. After nine years of lessons some habits are hard to break. This Bob fellow did not deserve a curtsy in the least.

Jo let me into her cramped bedroom. There was a loft bed with an artist desk under it and a set of bunk beds. It was tidy but lacked any real artistry at all.

"Jo, do you share a room with that slovenly fellow in the next room?"

"Heck no! He sleeps on the couch. Sarah is at work and our other roommate is in the hospital with pneumonia."

"That's not good. Did you hear about the new virus? I hope she doesn't have that." I sat on the desk chair.

Jo paced. "I don't think she's got Corona. It's only on the West Coast for now."

"No Jo. I read in this morning's paper there have been several cases reported in Manhattan. I saw dozens of people in facemasks on the way over here."

Jo googled the news on her Iphone. "People are just freaking out. It's mostly older and or sickly people who catch it. People with underlying conditions. The CDC is saying we shouldn't panic. It's only a few isolated cases..."

"I hope you're right Jo... but what about Mom?''

Jo continued researching. "Hyper Covid... That's what they're calling it... Wasn't even in the United States then. It's just some freaky coincidence. We never caught it... It'll probably blow over after flu season."

"I hope you're right. Jo, where's your bathroom? It's been a long trip."

Jo led me to a tiny dark bathroom which had no bath at all. It had been painted black with a paintbrush. I could still see the sloppy drippy brush strokes. "Jo, you're out of toilet paper."

She replied,"I'll pick some TP at the market.

"Jo, about that..."

---