VOODOO

She is red. Red shoes. Red skinny pants. Red long-sleeved sweatshirt. Red hoodie. Red aura?

            I can’t miss her.

            Coming at me down 33^rd street, taking up the entire sidewalk. Talking loudly to herself. Somehow, I doubt she’s on the phone like the blue-shirted whale woman across the street from me this morning. “Yes, I told her that you couldn’t do that. We will have to reschedule….” Obviously, she was on a phone call, or she had a very convincing fake phone voice to cover up any craziness.

            No, Red Woman is ranting. I can tell. Not only because I’ve come across her before on my pandemic pacings, but her energy emits a venomous, keep away from me quality.

            I give her a wide berth, circling out into the street to avoid running into her.

            Of course, she’s not wearing a mask. Why of course? You’ll see.

            “I DON’T CARE!!!!” she hisses into the air. “VOODOO VOODOO VOOODOO!”

            I can’t help but stare and then hurry on. She glares at me, hissing the voodoo incantation again so I will be sure to know it’s for me.

            But why? What have I done to deserve such a hex? Is it because I’m wearing a mask? Why would this be? Or is it just that she would hiss a hex out to anyone who passes by. And what is this hex? Is she poking pins into me to stop me from walking? To stop me from avoiding her?  

            To stop me from writing about her?

            How could she know that she would be the subject of my next story?

            She couldn’t, could she?

            I don’t know. She scares me. But she also fascinates me. There’s a magical witchiness to her that I’m drawn to. I wonder what her life is like, walking the streets of Richmond, dressed completely in red, always loaded down with bags of stuff hanging off her shoulders. Is she homeless? Or does she live in the neighborhood somewhere and just needs to get out for a walk like the rest of us?

            I tell Mr. Ian the story later. “Yeah, I bet a lot of people believe that.”
            “What are you talking about?”
            “That the pandemic is just a hoax. It’s all just voodoo made up by the government to keep people scared and quarantined.”

            “Really?” I shake my head. “Well, maybe. But I think she was actually directing her Voodoo at me. It certainly felt that way.”

            I know that Ian is right about how a lot of people believe the virus is a hoax. That they don’t know anyone that’s gotten it. That they don’t see anyone that is sick. That they aren’t sick themselves. That wearing a mask and staying sheltered in place is all just a part of the unnecessary accouterments to perpetuate the hoax. Yet, how can anyone believe that if they read the papers? Listen to the news? The pandemic grows in strength every day. More and more people are being stricken with it. More and more people are dying, esp. since the state tried to reopen. Now everyone is back to shelter in place. Wearing masks is required for everyone that steps outside.

            I try to do this with my walks. But it seems like too much when there’s no one around.

            Though when I spied Red Woman coming at me, I immediately pulled my mask up and over my face. I was glad for the protection.

            Maybe this set her off.

            She pauses for a moment, glaring at me as I continue my hurried pace in the middle of the street.

            “Voodoo VOODOO VOOODOO!”

            She hollers at me, and I quicken my pace, hoping she doesn’t follow me.

            She doesn’t. She turns and continues on down 33^rd street. I glance back at her, when I’m safely across Esmond.

            She’s a red bean pole figure, down the block now, swaying under the weight of her bags.

            I breathe a sigh of relief as I head up the block, but still a feeling of unease settles into my being.

            The voodoo is at work. I can feel it. And I’m scared……