Jerry opens the back door to smell the spring sunset breeze. It's April 4th, the day before he and his coworkers are scheduled to go back into the office.

He sneezes. Shit, shit. He checks his MyChart app for the third time today. He hates having to log back in with his thumbprint every time, but he needs the results. Three days ago he got a sore throat. Then came the sniffles. His wife Cassandra says it's probably seasonal allergies, but he uses raw local honey in his daily green tea, even through the winter.

So he went to the mobile COVID-19 testing center immediately upon feeling that tickle in the back of his throat. They said it could take up to 48 hours, but it had already been 50.

He's frustrated because the line wasn't that long, most people having got COVID or already been tested for it after the omicron wave. Even with the mask mandate lifted he still wears his in public places, sometimes even in the car. How did I get it?

The doorbell rings and it's his Safeway delivery driver, standing maskless and smiling.

"Just wanted to make sure you got your package," says the bright young woman in a flanel shirt and jeans.

"I specified to leave the groceries at the door, I might be contagious."

A semi-worried look dawns on her face. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she says, taking three steps back, covering her nose and mouth with her right hand.

"Yeah I'm really concerned," Jerry says through now a slit between the door and frame.

"Well good luck and hope you get better," she says walking away.

"Thanks."

He grabs the bags and closes the door. After putting away the groceries, he checks the app again. Nothing. It's already 4:04 p.m.

The local news in the background reports that there were a total of 41 cases of covid confirmed in the state today. There is still time for me to be case 42.

Cassandra says he watches too much news in general, including about surges in other countries, thinking that it's already made it to the US, despite evidence of the contrary. He says this has happened before when they lifted restrictions and then another wave came, though even he thinks this might be the worst of it considering how many people have already got COVID in the last 6 months through the omicron wave.

The sky turns to orange as the sun dips between two wispy clouds. Jerry checks the app again.

A new message. His pulse races.

He's negative.

He lets out a sigh of relief.

41.

By Clayton M. Davis