Cold comes calling

Cold came knocking two weeks ago. I had a suspicion it might be by; Cold had been going around. But you know how Cold is, busy, busy, busy! Places to see, people to infect. Maybe it would pass me by. But I recognized Cold’s knock right away – that phlegmy, wheezing ratatat. I opened the door a crack.

“I’m here.” Cold looked at me with pitiful, red eyes.

“Oh, hi, Cold,” I said through the crack. “Look, it’s really not a good time. I’m going on vacation in less than a week. I’m taking the train to New York City. How about you come back after my trip? I really don’t mind you hanging out with me at work. Heck, maybe we can even take a few sick days together! But vacation time’s super inconvenient. Raincheck? Okay, bye now.”

I began to close the door. Cold stuck its foot against the jamb.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” said Cold.

“Just a few sniffles and I’m out of here.”

What can you say to Cold? The ashen complexion, the mouth-breathing. I was helpless to Cold’s charms.

“Okay,” I said, “but remember, I have things to do.”

Cold waltzed in and gave me a little tickle in my throat on the way past. Oh, Cold, you rascal, you!

“Got anything to eat?” Cold asked. “You know, starve a fever, feed etcetera etcetera…”

I gave Cold some orange juice and echinacea. I thought Cold might take the hint and leave. But no.

“Got any chicken soup?” Cold asked. “Then I’ll be on my way.”

I put out a bowl and Cold gobbled it right up. Didn’t respond at all.

“So,” I asked politely, “you’ve been unwell?”

“They haven’t cured me yet!” Cold boasted, then muttered about COVID this and COVID that…

We sat in silence for a while, Cold just sniffing and sniffing. What a nuisance.

“Okay, well, um, I gotta go out for a while,” I said, “so….”

“No problem,” Cold said and started going around touching doorknobs, furniture, dishes, all my books, licking the soup bowl and putting it back in the cupboard. “You enjoy your day. I can take care of myself.”

Cold settled on the sofa. I left Cold and headed out.

When I got back, Cold was still there. Cold had gone through an entire box of tissues and had left them in crumpled balls all over the place. I sighed and picked them up, putting them in the trash.

“Have you been washing your hands?” I asked Cold.

“Oh, yeah, for sure, for sure” said Cold. Liar.

After that, Cold pretty much kept a low profile. Only a little difficulty swallowing from time to time reminded me that Cold was there, otherwise nothing I couldn’t wait out.

But then Cold started making demands, especially at night. Sometimes Cold came into the bedroom and sat on my chest.

“You sleeping?” Cold asked.

“Of course, I’m sleeping,” I mumbled. I tried shaking Cold off my chest by clearing my throat, which was thick and sore. Had Cold been strangling me in my sleep? “Would you mind? I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry. Sure, go back to sleep. And whatever you do, don’t cough. Coughing is the last thing you want to do. If you feel something tickling in your chest, it’s probably not a cough. Just ignore that.”

After that, of course, all I wanted to do was cough. Cold was really getting into my head.

“You said it would just be a quick visit,” I said the next morning, really coughing now, my voice low with irritation and congestion.

“Did I?” Cold said coyly. “Don’t remember. My brain’s a bit fuzzy. Anyway, can’t wait to see New York! The Big Achoo!”

I groaned, resigned to taking Cold on my travels. Cold sat with me in the train, making a big racket and drawing stares. “Shhh!” I told Cold. “Nobody likes you. Put this mask on.”

“Help, help, I’m being suppressed!” Cold shouted. I was so embarrassed.

Cold and I checked into our hotel together. I was exhausted but Cold was raring to go, tossing and turning all night, sweating, stealing the covers.

When I woke up, I could hardly move. I ached, I was fevery, my head pounded. Cold was sitting in a chair by the bed, a smug look on its face.

“Wait a sec,” I said, and staggered across the room. I grabbed the top of Cold’s greasy hair and pulled upwards. Cold’s whole face slid off. It was only a mask!

“Why, you’re not Cold at all…,” I exclaimed. “You’re…”

“Scooby-Dooby Fluuuuu!”