Thursday, November 10, 2022

I thought it would be a good idea to start the recounting of each day with an event we all shared. Something to hang your hat on, so you remember the days with me. Sound good? Alright. November 10 was the day we got our Lineage.com DNA tests in the mail. If you got one that first day, like we did, maybe you thought, like I did:”I didn’t order this.” Then you saw that federal eagle on the return address and were really confused. Then you saw the red lettering: “Urgent! Open Immediately. Failure to do so will result in a severe fine and/or imprisonment of up to seven years.” Sharon opened hers while I poured cold coffee into my thermos. I thought it was strange, but not something that was going to derail my day. Sharon pulled out the tube with the cotton swab inside and put it on the kitchen table carefully. Then she pulled out the letter and read aloud. Did you get this one? I heard a few different versions went out.

Dear Sharon Washington (ID#PPA22107894),

The United States Congress has recently passed the Immuno Tracer Act which requires everyone in the United States, both Citizens and Residents, no matter their immigration status, to complete and return the enclosed test by no later than November. 17, 2022. Failure to do so will result in a fine of $1000 dollars US per day after the 17th and could include imprisonments for up to seven years. Imprisonment and forced testing will be exercised if the test is not returned by November 24th, 2022. Instructions for the testing is as follows:

Remove the cap with the testing swab attached from the tube carefully. DO NOT TOUCH THE SWAB TO ANYTHING EXCEPT YOUR MOUTH. Rub the cotton swab along the inside of your cheek in a circular motion three times. Replace the cap and swab inside the tube. Do BOTH of the following: Put the flat, metal bottom of the tube into the USB port of any computer or gaming console. Do NOT try to push the entire tube into the port. You will receive a message confirming your specimen has been collected. Put the tube into the Return box and seal securely. Do NOT write on any part of the box. The address of a Journey testing center is preprinted on the box. You will receive confirmation, by mail, that your specimen has been collected.

Sharon set down the letter, looked at me and said: “How do they have me linked to a number already? Why isn’t it my social? This must be a whole new database they created for the testing. PPA stands for what, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, you think?” I nodded. Sharon went on: “And if I am number 22,107,894 and you are number….”. She carefully opened my box and looked at the letter. “Whoa, you are number 43,367,298! How did you get so low? There are 250 million people in the US, right?” Again, I nodded and Sharon went on: “So, they didn't do it by state or you wouldn’t be so far away from me. And they couldn’t have done it by marriage or family connection - same thing - you would be closer to me. So, how did they assign numbers?” This was Sharon. While I was thinking: “Should do the test now or when I get back,” Sharon was deep into the Why of the whole program.

“And what are they testing for exactly? It can’t be antibodies to Corona, can it? Lineage.com is one of those DNA testing services; tell you where your ancestors came from. And we know all those companies have been keeping records of everyone who used their services. But they don’t test for viruses. It says the test goes to a Journey lab though…. They are a medical testing company. They have branches everywhere so… they are testing for DNA if they are using Lineage.com to collect the samples, probably because they had the best testing kit. One that fits into a USB port. That’s probably important if you are trying to get these results quick. Then they are sending the results to a medical testing company. The biggest one, right?” I shrugged. “So, that means they invoked the Production Act to force those companies to send the tests, collect and analyze the results. Unless, of course, they have already been in bed with those companies from the jump. I don’t think so though, they could hack the results anytime they wanted, I’m sure, but to coordinate all of this and then tie it to this new database, they would need some serious coordination.” I was getting my IPad and rummaging to see if there was a cereal bar at the bottom of my backpack.

“Corona could have mutated and the vaccine isn’t effective against this new strain, right?” Sharon was rolling now. “But that is still not DNA testing. So, why use Lineage.com? And why are they so ready for it? I mean this government isn’t that much better than the flaming Cheeto. It’s still the bureaucracy.” I sucked my teeth in agreement. Sharon kept going: “But this is prepared, man! This is a national database and everybody has a number that corresponds to their location, at least. They were prepared for this. They knew something was coming. Just setting up the database of every single person in the US would take months, unless, no, they probably had that in effect. Facial recognition and cell phones would give them almost everyone. We know they also have lots of DNA; everyone who’s been arrested in what, the last five or ten years? With the cooperation of the commercial DNA testing folks, that’s got to be a good chunk of the population.” Sharon paused here. I put my backpack on, leaned in to kiss her goodbye. She ignored me and I kissed lips already moving to her next conclusion: “So maybe they aren’t sending this to everyone. If they already have your DNA they might not send it to you. Twelve percent of the population is behind bars and forty five percent of black folks have been in the system one way or the other; they have all that DNA. Add in the commercial testing companies and they only need to get it from what, say another hundred twenty five million, would you say? Think there are enough people in the system and catalogued along with the DNA testing companies to knock down the number by half?” I agreed, heading for the door: “Probably. See you at three thirty, I only have the two classes today.”

“Doesn’t this make you uneasy?” Sharon hit me with this when I had a hand on the knob of the front door. “Sure,” I said, “but the show must go on.” I smiled and did a little side step out the door with a flourish. As the door closed, I heard her say: “I’m gonna call Chucky to see if he got one of these. And Mrs. Ella.” Uh oh, I remember thinking, Mrs. Ella’s is on the case. (Gonna tell you about her, but later, when she becomes more important to the story.) The federal response to something and testing of the population didn’t worry me much, but when Sharon said she was reaching out to Mrs. Ella- that’s when I got a little nervous. I knew they would put their heads together and tenaciously go after the truth; their quest would mean I would have to do something. It always did when they got together, and it was usually something I didn’t want to do. I don’t like to Do Things; I avoid, that’s my mantra.

Being an Ignore It Till I Can’t Anymore, kind of guy. I skipped out of our apartment that Tuesday, got my bike out of the basement, and rode out into the Pittsburgh chill paying as little mind as possible to the testing kit, Sharon & Mrs Ella and whatever they were going to have me do. There were no portents I can look back on and say; “There! That was the sign.’ It had been set in motion long before that day but….No. Portents come from God. God would have to set out those signs and lead me on to salvation. Since I was already on the path to damnation, even though I didn’t know it, God had long since abandoned me. Left me to fend with Her and the devil all by myself. This is why I never liked the One God; I always believed in multiple Gods. Like the Greeks or the Yoruba. Multiple Gods out there pulling on me but for their own reasons. Trying to get me to do what they want so their path is fulfilled; just a pawn in multiple games. Nothing looking out for me cept’ me.

Here come the CUTS, get ready. Normal day. Except for the plague bearing down on us, but other than that it was normal. I felt the normal dread everyone was feeling in those early days of Plague Time. Rode through the cold Pittsburgh morning to campus, pulled into the College of Fine Arts parking lot, locked my bike to the frigid rack and headed to the second floor for my Acting IV class. I am compulsively early and got there probably ten minutes before my normal fifteen before. Looked at my iPad, saw there were three scenes on the schedule and settled in with my perfectly brewed cold coffee for, what I thought, would be an exceedingly normal day. I knew by five minutes till that it wasn’t. Dean Don’s testimony at trial confirmed there were in-person classes until November 15th. That is a verifiable fact. Plague Time had started to dwindle class size, like it did in the early days of Coronavirus, but there were still classes that day. Other professors had classes that day. Teachers and students were in the building even though no one could testify to seeing me. I tell you I was there, in CFA that day to teach my class!

A really small class, with only three students. All women: Lyana, Soon Yee and a new Transfer student - Her. It was Her first class. I started with the Masks exercise, like I told you before, to get everyone in the game early and, since we had so few students, I knew we were gonna have some extra time. (This is normal. I did this countless times. I had a class, there were three students and we did the damn mask exercise. The feds found the masks in my closet when they searched my house; were they there for fucking role play? ) I handed out the masks. Randomly. She got the blank face. The white, featureless, no expression, face. Like Mike Myers or the family in “Us.”

She was white. Skin color, white. She had no expression a lot of the time. The mask was too perfect for her, I’ll give you that, looking back. It was too perfectly in line with her natural - should not say “natural” - the usual appearance she used. This is a mess…. I know. But how the fuck am I supposed to tell you about my first encounter with a demon? I better just tell you and stop trying to make it sound like facts that can be proved. They are facts, just couldn’t be ….Oh God- Just tell it!

She got the white, featureless mask. But, oh she certainly had features. She was full of beautiful, rounded, perfect features. Dark hair in rings that surrounded her face. Light green eyes. I got caught staring into those eyes. Lyana caught me. Lyana is Cuban, with a fantastic voice. Like, should be a star, voice. Maybe she is now. Hope so. Lyana caught me staring at Her. I remember seeing a mix of disgust and betrayal in Lyana’s eyes when she caught me; looking at me to see if I was one of those teachers. She looked at me and thought: “I was a fool to believe he was anything but another one of them.” I saw that very clearly in Lyana’s eyes. Very clearly. I turn to Lyana, quickly, so she knew I was not one of them and say: “Go ahead, get that mask on Lyana; I want to see what it does for you.” Lyana warily puts the Thief mask over her face. I see doubt in Lyana’s eyes. CUT.

The white mask with the green eyes says: "I'm ready to work now." Soon Yee, the other student there that day- sweet exterior, with a shark spine underneath- Soon Yee says: "Your partner isn't even here; Lyana and I are here. We should work." CUT. The rehearsal blocks are set up to be the bedroom of Her scene; a Mamet scene. "Who's going to play the boy?" Lyana asks. White mask, green eyes says: "I need a man. Not a boy." The eyes catch me. CUT. Soon Yee is crying and running out of the room. Lyana is getting up and following her out, not running, but walking hard and purposeful. I am laying down on the rehearsal boxes. I look up. Green eyes and white mask looking down at me. I feel Her hot against my crotch. My hands are up her white tee shirt. CUT.

That’s all I got from that first, and only, class with Her. It’s not sequential, but it’s true. I swear.

When I came through the door at home that night, I saw Sharon had a hamper next to the door. Her clothes from the day were in it. Since it was raining and I didn’t want the fight, I stripped down to my underwear and put everything in. I saw the masks (regular, Don’t catch death from someone masks, not the class masks) hanging on a hook near the door. She had brought them out of storage. I heard her voice come from her study. “Put your clothes in the hamper. Are you going to do your test now?” “Done,” I called back and headed for the shower. Sharon met me before I got in, with my test in her hand. “Open your mouth,” she said. I did and she swirled the swab around my inner cheek, just like the instructions said. She returned the swab to the tube and headed to her office without another word.

Coming into the bedroom after a looooong shower, I found Sharon sitting on the bed. She had a pipe in her hand with whisks of smoke coming out of it. “Did you smell it in the shower?” I shook my head “Nope, still got no smell.” She took another hit, passed the pipe to me as I made my way to the dresser and said: “They said you might get your sense of smell back by now, but, alas, no.” “Nope,” I said, getting into pj’s, while I took a hit. She took the pipe back from and looked at me for a long moment. Then she kissed me. Deep, with her tongue swirling around my mouth and her head tilted back, eyes closed. A long, probing kiss. Searching. I pulled her down on the bed sideways but she resisted when I tried to pull her on top of me. She kept digging in with the kiss. This was like a junior high school marathon kiss where I tried to keep my mouth locked with Dana’s for the whole side A of Songs in the Key of Life. It was getting hard to breathe. Sharon grabbed my back, hard, pulling me further into her. Did Sharon smell Her on me?

Finally Sharon broke the kiss and laid there with her eyes closed. Slowly breathing. I looked and waited. If Sharon had opened her eyes and said: “I smell Her on you,” I would’ve come clean at that point. I would’ve told my wife that something, I’m honestly not sure what, but something happened with a young woman in class today and it scared me. I would’ve done what Sharon said I should do; I would’ve brought her into my problem, told her I was afraid and asked her to help me get out. I know I would’ve. But Sharon didn’t ask. Sharon opened her eyes and looked into mine with the purr kitty eyes I hadn’t seen for a minute. Just looked at me. I pulled her closer, moving in for another kiss. Sharon put her hand on my chest. This was a total reversal of roles; overwhelmingly, Sharon was wanting to get it on and I was pushing away, well, laying there cold and inert enough to let her know I was not into it.

“Why didn’t you do your test?” I was shocked that this is where we were going and took a second to recover. Sharon didn’t wait for me to answer. “And then, you didn’t even ask what happened when I took it and put it in the ‘puter.” I had nothing for her so, stayed silent. Sharon sighed, closed her eyes and went on: “Curty, Curt, Curt, Curt. For such a capable man, you can be the most shiftless brother I have ever known. You were just gonna let it slide, weren’t you?” “Nah, I was gonna get there.” I lamely replied. Sharon rubbed her nose into mine and said: “You would’ve left it till the very last second before the deadline, you lazy, good for nothin, so and so. Don’t even try it. You are a lucky man. A very lucky man, indeed. You have a wife who is covering your ass. Lucky, lucky, Curt.” I smiled in agreement. I was actually getting hot and bothered and pulled her in again; got pushed back again. Sharon went on: “ You would’ve waited, got it in right before the deadline and gone on about your business teaching, riding your bike and writing that damn play you never finish. I know you. Never would’ve paid the test or whatever coming, no mind. until it was on you and getting in the way of your routine. Am I right?” Of course she was right so I nodded.

“Well I don’t wait for the roof to fall on my head, Curt. I patch that shit up when it starts leaking. So, I put your test in the ‘puter and it came back with the same message I got for mine. It said: ‘You will be contacted by a representative of the HHS department.’ HHS stands for Health and Human Services, ‘case you didn’t know. What do you make of that?” I couldn’t make anything of anything so I said: “You are the master, I am the student, learning at your feet.” Sharon frowned and said: “You need to care about this a bit more, Curty; I’m thinking you are gonna have to soon. I called Al’s house. He had already sent the word ‘round to tell him who got the test. Chucky never got a test, Rosie and her husband did, Al did, Raul did, Caroline didn’t. What do Caroline and Chucky have in common, ‘sides blood?” I knew this one: “Time,” I said. Sharon’s frown softened a little as she said: “Correct. My mama and brother have both done time and are cataloged in the correctional dbase. Their DNA is already in the system. You, me, Al, and Rosie, we are unknown to the system. That means whatever agency is collecting the data has already got twenty five percent of folks in the system. Like I thought.

“And Al told me something else. Said he got the same response we did when he put the tube in the Xbox he got for the grandkids. ‘A Representative from HHS will be in touch.’ But, I asked Cynthia if she got the test and you know what she said?” Cynthia was a white professor in the history department who Sharon liked. I shook my head, Sharon continued: “Cynthia got the test, did it lickty split as well and got back: ‘Your test has been received and is being matched against our database.’ No representative calling her. Funny, that.” I thought it was funny too. “So, folks get a rep call or are already in the database, white woman gets matched against…” I drifted off. Sharon finished the thought for us: “She gets matched against what? That’s the question, right? I think it’s pretty clear that the database is used to search for genetic characteristics which could lead to infection. Or else why would it be HHS doing the screening? Health is the key here. How DNA affects the health of the nation. So, the question is: What DNA leads to sickness and does a representative call mean you got that DNA or does ‘matching against the database’ mean you got it?”

We laid there looking into each other's eyes for a minute. Sharon’s frown crept back. “Don’t think its gonna go well for us. It never does.” With that she rolled over and went to sleep. I was left thinking that it sure as hell was not going to go well for us. Didn’t sleep for the next two days. I tossed and turned thinking of Her. The moment I would drift off, I dreamt of locusts swarming and bolted awake.