Mask Off

Fred wiped away a tear when he answered his phone.

“Mother?”

She was the first person he talked to today, but he stumbled through with a yes here, an OK there.

“My suit’s just fine. It’s black.” As he paced up and down, he swiped his fingers against his fantasy books collection, carefully skipping over Dad’s picture on the bookshelf.

“No Fred. It’s too old,” his mother said.

He pried an old copy of Tolkien from the shelves – the one Dad read in his childhood.

“Mother…” he said.

“You’re just like your father was. I already ordered one. It’ll be in the store the day after tomorrow.”

“But mother-”

“I want us to look good for the funeral.”

The funeral. Fred stopped moving. “How are you holding up?”

Mother breathed heavily. “I’m fine…”

“Remember our holidays?” he blurted out. “And Dad would always play the same song as we drove away early in the morning?”

“Yes…”

“Good morning. Good morning.” Fred paced up and down again, gesticulating wildly with his free hand on the rhythm.

“Fred-”

“Good morning. Good morning.”

“You’re anxious, Fred. What is it?”

Fred let out a deep breath. “Will… will we have protective measures in place?”

Mother sighed. “Fred… We… I stopped masking.”

Fred clenched his phone. “But the pandemic… There’s still a pandemic.”

“Everybody’s saying it’s over.”

“Well, just look at the stats. The hospitalizations-”

“Fred…” Mother sobbed. “I know. But life goes on.”

Fred’s miniature models shook as he kicked against the table. “There’s still the ten percent chance of becoming chronically ill if you get it. Ten percent! Ten!”

“I’ll take the risk…”

“Just so you know, I’ll be wearing my mask.”

“Fred… I understand that you think it’s scary, but think of the others. They don’t want to be reminded of the pandemic there.”

“Well…” Fred’s red mustache quivered from his heavy breaths. “You do you.”

“Especially since Dad died of it.”

“That’s what I mean. How on earth can we not-”

“People will think you’re weird if you wear one.” Mother cried again. “You know I love you… Oh, haven’t you learned not to be so rigid by now?”

“The others are weird.” Fred felt the urge to smash his phone against the wall. “I’m not giving up my mask.”

Mother paused a while. Finally, she sighed. “I’m still getting over the fact that you weren’t there when he died.”