Sam poured them both a glass of chardonnay and took a seat beside him.
* * *
With their bellies full and their dishes clean, Sam and Jason headed for the couch. Jason clicked on the tv as his feet came to rest on the wooden coffee table.
“Thousands more infected and many more dead as the coronavirus grips China. Weeks ago, the Chinese government had shut down the borders of the affected province. Still, the virus has escaped, and tonight, we are reporting the first confirmed case of COVID-19 here in the U.S.,” the reporter said.
Sam looked at Jason with concern in her eyes.
“That’s not good,” he said, but then noticed her concern.
“We are young and healthy, babe. If we get it, it’ll be ok.”
“Everyone online is scared,” Sam said. “They think it’s the next plague. Going to wipe out millions.” Jason moved to put his arm around her.
“It’s not the plague, Sam. It’s a bad flu that kills people who are old and have underlying health conditions. Besides, we have no idea what is actually happening in China; their government doesn’t have a great track record of telling the whole truth.”
Sam nodded slowly as her eyes remained fixed on the tv screen. Jason continued, “All we can do is stay healthy and remain positive. And if worse comes to worst, I always have Francine.”
“You brought your shotgun!?” Samantha exclaimed in anger and disbelief. She shrugged off his arm and twisted to face him directly.
“You said you weren’t going to bring any of your guns to the city. What the hell, Jay!?”
“Easy, babe,” Jason replied in a hushed tone. “It was a last-minute decision. I just figured with everything going on with this virus and moving across the country to a new place where we know no one…we might want some protection.”
“Protection,” Samantha repeated as she rolled her dark eyes with contempt.
“Yes, protection! Listen, if this virus goes crazy and the zombie apocalypse happens, you’ll be so grateful that I brought it.”
“Where is it even?” Sam asked.
“I’ve got it locked in the office closet. Safe and sound. Nothing to worry about, babe, it’s just in case. Alright?”
Sam huffed and got up.
“Don’t say alright as if I have any say in the matter.” She turned to walk away.
“Where are you going?” Jason asked.
“To shower.”
“Well, can I come?”
“Why don’t you go shower with Francine?”
* * *
Samantha opened her eyes. She lay still for a moment, then reached over to touch her phone’s screen. 2:36 a.m. She rolled over onto her back and recoiled swiftly. Beside her in bed was Jason, sitting up, completely still.
“Jay?” she whispered. “Are you up?”
Jason sat motionless, staring straight ahead. Sam put her hand on his back.
“Jason?”
This wasn’t the first time she had experienced Jason’s odd sleep behavior. He sometimes talked in his sleep, and occasionally it would turn quite angry. Samantha even caught an elbow once when Jason was seemingly fending off an imaginary attack. Usually, though, he would mumble on for a bit and then stop. A jerky elbow or knee was rare. Even rarer, maybe twice before, Samantha awoke to find her partner sitting up in bed—just sitting there. She had tried to talk to him, but he never answered, and after a few minutes, he would lie back down, and that would be it. The next morning, when asked, he would say he didn’t remember it.
Samantha withdrew her hand from Jason’s back and waited and watched for him to lie back down like he had those other times. She lay there on her back, observing her lover. His breath was like a metronome, slowly keeping time in the night air, his features bathed in the moonlight. His frame rose and fell with his breath.
Up and down. In and out. Constantly.
Samantha was almost hypnotized by the movement. Her eyes grew heavy, and sleep knocked at her door.
Then Jason’s head turned quickly, and Sam could see his eyes opened wide. A look of terror was across his face. “Do you hear!?” he snarled. His breath had turned to panting, his eyes piercing hers.
“What!?” Sam yelped as she tried to escape through the mattress.
“What are you…” Samantha started, but then the expression on Jason’s face relaxed and softened. He withdrew, lay down, and rolled over on his side, facing away from his startled lover. His breath became a metronome again; peaceful and constant. Shaken and rattled, Sam could do nothing but stare at his back until sleep finally consumed her.
* * *
Samantha awoke to sunlight and mint as Jason kissed her lips. The memory of last night flooded back into her mind as she pushed him away abruptly.
“What’s wrong?” Jason asked, feigning hurt.
“Are you mad I have to leave you for work?” Samantha sat up in bed, rubbed her eyes, and yawned.
“You don’t remember?” she asked.
“Remember what?” he searched her eyes. “Ah, was I talking in my sleep again? Must be the stress. What was I blabbering on about this time?”
“You weren’t talking,” Sam said. “Well, you talked, but wow, ok. I woke up in the middle of the night, and you were just sitting there. And ok, you’ve done that before and just lay back down, but this time was different.” She was starting to become agitated.
“Different how?” Jason asked.
“Well, I lay there and waited for you to lie down and go back to sleep, or continue sleeping…or whatever! But instead, you turned and looked right at me, and you were so scary, you looked at me and you asked me if I had heard!”
Now distraught, Samantha began to cry.
“Whoa, whoa, easy. I asked if you heard?”
Jason sat down beside Sam on the bed and put his arm around her, rubbing her back.
“You said, ‘Do you hear?’”
“What does that mean?” Jason wondered aloud.
“I don’t know! You said it, and you looked so, I don’t know, different, like, scared! It was horrible!”
“Then what?” Jason prodded.
“I don’t know!
