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Marc and Alana decided to take a walk. They were socially distant and very confused. Not sure what to make of Anat’s change. Or was it a change? Was she trying to deceive people and lead everyone into a trap?
The two walked and walked. They exchanged smiles. Alana was blasting a mix of unreleased U2 songs. She found them in a Rolling Stone article and downloaded everything from YouTube. Marc hates headphones. So he was humming tunes from the Alarm and Echo and the Bunnymen.
Anat was running in Riverside Park. She was wearing her new sweats, t-shirt, and Asics. And her Red Sox hat. She was thinking about one of her first wars with Marc outside the Stadium when his team was playing hers. To her dismay, Rivera ended the game by striking out Big Papi. Everyone in ‘da Bronx went home happy. Marc was so pissed baseball season has been delayed and may not even happen.
Anat picked up speed. The park was empty. She was feeling good. She always did keep in shape. She needed to maintain her fighting form. These days she isn’t fighting. She hasn’t fought since she got knocked out by Marc and Alana in Queens. She was cool when she ran into Alana delivering groceries. How long could she stay that way?
Her iPhone was cranking a mix of Love and Rockets, Sham 69 and the Buzzcocks. The music stopped. She pulled her phone out of her pocket to choose her next mix. Likely Pearl Jam, Siouxsie and the Banshees and the Smiths. She heard screams. Normally she liked it when people were in trouble. She hit play and kept running. As she steamed ahead she saw a little boy about three years old by himself on a park bench. He was screaming. She saw some blood running down his leg. She stopped and yelled out to him asking where his parents were.
He just shook. She looked around and saw no one. She was afraid to get closer — Covid-19 and she didn’t know this kid. She has come too far to get into trouble. But the boy needed help.
She yelled out if he was hungry. He shook his head in the affirmative. She shot more raisins than would be used to fill a bowl of Raisin Bran. Apricots followed. The kid was confused. But he ate them. She took her running towel and tossed it to him. Next came a fresh bottle of Poland Spring. She spilled it on his wound. Still wearing her gloves she tied the towel around the gash on his leg. She dialed 911 and explained what happened. There was still no one coming for him. He probably needed stitches. The operator told her to stay near the boy and that an ambulance was on its way.

She asked if he had any identifying objects on him. She said no. She described him.
The ambulance and NYPD arrived. She explained what happened. The EMT said she did a nice job cleaning up his wound. The kid wouldn’t answer any of the EMT’s or police officer’s questions. Maybe he couldn’t. They put him in the ambulance and headed for Mt. Sinai West.

The Covid curve was getting better. Things were slowly getting back to normal. You still had to be very careful. But there were some breaths of fresh air.
Alana decided she would bust out of QT and visit her Aunt Matilda. She spoke with her on the phone and found out the best time to come. Her aunt said that coincided with her grocery delivery. That’s just what Alana wanted.
She still had no clue if Anat was the delivery person. Her aunt only knew that someone dropped them off to the building and the concierge brought them upstairs. She told Alana she could probably run down and carry them up if she was present when they arrived. She loved her concierge. But knew in these times he had more on his plate to worry about than bringing up bags of milk, tomatoes, juice and some other items to an old lady. Some of the old biddys in her building were not as polite. That’s life.
Alana was so happy to be on a subway. And she hated those rides. She picked up flowers for her aunt. She was heading toward the building when she saw Anat. She just watched. Her aunt did need the delivery. And she didn’t get sick from the prior ones.
Marc was home. The two discussed whether he should go. They decided he would stay home.
Anat walked up to Matilda’s building. Alana stepped behind her. The doorman knew both of them. He smiled as he held the door open for them.
Alana saw Anat walk to the concierge’s desk and hand over the bag. The concierge took the bag.
As he was about to go upstairs, Alana jumped over to him and said she’d take the bags. Anat stared right at her and smiled. Alana got ready to shoot out gallons of wine. But not sure she should. It didn’t seem as if Anat did anything wrong. But what was going on?
Alana entered the elevator. Anat exited the building.
Alana texted Marc as she rode up. She relayed what went on. Marc said he’d meditate on the situation.

Alana has a sick aunt residing on the upper east side. She’s elderly and has mobility and other issues. Mentally she’s still sound. They’ve been using Zoom to communicate during the Covid-19. Her aunt told her how she’s been getting her groceries delivered. She noted that her recent delivery contained several free boxes of raisins and some apricots.

Alana’s mind quickly thought of Anat. She started to twitch. She asked if all of the groceries were wrapped tightly and if she ate any of the food. Aunt Matilda said yes. She said she felt fine.

Alana ran this my Marc. They remembered seeing Anat all cleaned up during the Weird Wolves online gig. Could she now be helping people? Could she be trusted? Did their beating of her a few weeks ago change her? Many questions need to be answered. The two of them needed to get out of QT.

Anat in her mask and rubber gloves continued her grocery deliveries. She always added her favorite as a bonus. She felt good for the first time in her life.

Marc and Alana plotted how they would check on Anat. They don’t even know if she was the delivery person. But the odds of a random coincidence are too high for Anat to deliver groceries to Alana’s aunt.

Anat went home and logged onto her office computer. She chatted with a few coworkers and asked how they were. They were shocked. No one ever talked to Anat. She just emailed in her work. Occasionally, she did a presentation online. That was about it. They were shocked out how chic she looked. None of those people knew about dried fruit antics and the wars she raged. They didn’t even know she went to camp. A few of them did. Every time they made chit chat about their times in summer camp Anat kept quiet.

Marc and Alana knew Matilda’s next delivery was this coming Friday. Probably around 10:00 a.m. They wondered if they could go out? They were not typical humans.   Did their powers make them not susceptible to Covid-19? They were not sure if they were willing to chance it. But they had their craziness so they just might.

 

 

Many of you may remember when Michael Jackson wore gloves and a mask. And when he moonwalked on your TV screen when you were about 14. We all tried it.

But one can bet when he was done with his mask and gloves they were thrown away.

During the last few weeks, we’ve watched dozens of people walking the streets in this garb.

Rubber gloves. Not the white sequined glove, Michael wore.

We’ve seen Nike and other companies producing masks. Soon we will see them on sale at Bloomingdales.

I suppose the Ralph Lauren masks will go for about $500. While the Versace gloves will retail for around $800. I want a Lacoste set.

That being said, what I do not want and what I hope my readers do not want are to see rubbers gloves and surgical masks on the street. Some supermarkets are requesting people wear their PPE upon entering. Fine. Wear them. And when you exit the market, wear it until you get home or find a trash receptacle.

In the last few days, when going to buy essentials — toothpaste, light bulbs and Twizzlers, I saw dozens upon dozens of these items in the street and stuffed into plant life. I’ve seen people walk out of the stores and drop them on the pavement.

Let’s have some consideration. While you think you’re protecting yourself. Think about everyone else. I remember after a scout camping trip when we were leaving our site we policed the area. We stood arms distance apart. Early social distancing and walked around the site and picked up any garbage. We always strived to leave our site better than we found it.

Let’s try to do that now.

Marc and Alana were chilling with some rigatoni with vodka sauce while sipping Shiloh Paisley Pear.  Anat was chowing down on fish tacos and drinking Coney Island Mermaid.

She had memories of her fight with Marc and Alana when she sabotaged the Morrissey show. That was sick.  Moz is the best. That was some of her best work. She felt no remorse.  That is who she was. These days, she doesn’t even know who she is.  She ‘s still trying to figure it out.  Many people are.

All of them were excited. Weird Wolves was doing an online show from Austin.  They all loved them. Singer Ava Lee Gore’s lyrics took her dad Martin’s deep lyrics to new heights.  They loved her vocals and dreamed of seeing her in NYC. She’s made for the city. Marc grew up on Depeche Mode.  Its music speaks to the world.  The song “Somebody” might be one of the best songs ever written. He was so excited when he discovered Martin’s daughter Ava. Alana loved her goth look. Neither are fans of being inked. But on Ava, it looks great.

Anat was excited about the concert, too. She loves Weird Wolves. She grew up on Depeche Mode, Bauhaus, Joy Division, the Cure and U2. Same as her nemesis’s.  Marc did have a thing for classic rock, too. And even loved the “Thriller” and “Purple Rain” albums. How could you not?   Speaking of Prince, he always thought Alana would look hot in a raspberry beret.

While Anat was waiting to log in to watch the Weird Wolves, she got her first grocery delivery assignment.  Tomorrow she would go to the grocer and pick up a few packages and bring it to an elderly couple a few blocks away. She hoped they ordered dried fruit.  She was changing. But still thrived on her raisins.

The time came.  Dozens of people logged in.  Ava did something not usually done with online shows.  She shared her screen and let all the fans interact with each other. She said she wanted it to be just like when she gets to Garden with all the fans together.

They did their first set.  Marc and Alana were glued to the screen. Anat was, too. She was dancing in black jeans and a sweater.  Her eyes locked with Marc and Alana. At first, they didn’t recognize her.

Then they both said, “Wow. She cleaned up. What’s going on? Did we knock some sense into her? Or is she still plotting?”

The band finished its set and the screen went black.

 

Marc and Alana spent the next day or so QT in Marc’s place. Marc cooked. Alana chilled out with Genesee Cream Ale. She finished Marc’s last can. He used to drink it in summer camp. He was too young to drink. But it was camp. The beer is not easy to find. Next summer if he can get to camp he will find it. He wanted to save that can for a special reason and down it himself.

But he knows Alana loves that brew. And he loves Alana. They were wondering about Anat. They knew she was breathing when they left her. They probably could have contacted her via social media. But why would they?

Anat has been clean for the last few days. She’s showered daily. And some of her new clothes arrived. She put on one of her new black Theory dresses. She just wore it around her apartment and smiled. She danced around to The Smiths and Depeche Mode. She was anxiously waiting for her new Timberlands to arrive. She paid for speedy shipping. But knew the COVID-19 was delaying everything. She didn’t even get angry.

She knew the butcher by her house was open. She decided to go out in her new dress and buy a steak and some veggies for dinner. She had plenty of wine and beer. She saw some signs posted on the door in the butcher shop requesting those that are healthy to text to “helpdeliver” to assist getting groceries to the elderly.

She whipped out her iPhone and texted her contact info. This was a first for her. But she thought of her grandmother. She would have done anything to help her. She would help in her memory.

She felt good as she walked into her apartment. She opened a bottle of Ramot Naftali Petit Verdot. She toyed around with opening Malbec. But had memories of a fun day with grandma in Old Sacramento where they sipped Petit Verdot. She let it breathe while she marinated her steak and prepped the vegetables.

The only disappointing thing was that the bakery was out of brownies. She wondered if it was due to crazy buying of them due to the virus. Everyone loves a brownie. Well after she waited a few hours after eating the steak and finished sipping, she’d have a lonely glass of milk.

Anat showered for nearly an hour. She made sure to wash her long black hair. She got out and put on a clean pair of sweats and a Stanford sweatshirt. She never had a mani or pedi. And knew the nail salons were closed. So she looked at videos on YouTube and went to Duane Reade and bought some nail polish. She did her best. she bought some inexpensive makeup, too. When Sephora reopens she will buy more.

She got home and put on some blush. She cranked the Cure. Her music tastes were just as dark as Alana’s. The two of them probably would have been friends if they met under different circumstances. Not that Anat ever had one friend. She never tried. She kept to her books and misery.

She looked at her ratty boots. She loves them so. But went to Timberlands’ website and ordered a brand new pair. Next was Bloomingdale’s website. She bought some new dresses. She was hoping she’d get to wear them soon. Eventually, her office would reopen. And rather than her usual telecommute she might sit at her old desk.

She felt better than she’s felt in years. She was considering volunteering to pick up groceries and deliver to the elderly.

She couldn’t wait to get outside. But one thing was still in her mind. Was she ready for a complete transformation? Or would people not even recognize her and would she be able to create more terror?

Marc and Alana probably shouldn’t have locked lips after defeating Anat in Flushing Meadows-Corona Park. They weren’t thinking. But they were two of the only three people in the park. And we know the third person was on the ground dying. Or was she?

Marc and Alana walked right home after the fight. They showered and watched the YES Network’s broadcast of Righetti’s no-hitter v. Boston on July 4, 1983. Billy Martin was managing the game, Yogi was coaching and the Scooter was in the booth. It was 94 degrees that day. Marc remembered watching the game at his grandma’s house. A few weeks later the famous George Brett Pine Tar game happened. Not so royal.

The two cranked the Ramones and dreamed of partying with Sheena at Rockaway Beach. They were mighty proud of their handiwork. But knew it likely wasn’t over. They fell asleep in each other’s arms while Joy Division’s “Love will tear us apart” was cranking.

The next morning Anat woke up on the pavement of the park. She was confused. She felt dizzy and was in pain. She took her almost dead iPhone and took a selfie of her face.She pulled up her shirt and saw bruises on her chest and abdomen. She nearly fainted when she saw her headshot.

Her eyes were black and blue and she had cuts on her pretty face. Yes, she does have a pretty face. If she washed up she’d be hot.  She tried to stand up. She fell right down. She put her hands on her head and broke out in a hysterical cry. She knew she did this to herself. Most of her misery had been self-inflicted. Okay, she could never change her parents’ lack of love and affection. But she did have her grandma’s love and she did well academically. She did better than most. She never did drugs. She didn’t drink that much. Once in a while, she would have a glass of wine or a beer. But she carried so much angst. She needed to drop it.

She finally got up in the desolate park. She walked out and got an Uber to take her back to her apartment in the city. The whole ride she kept her head down and cried.

She walked into her apartment. Surprisingly she kept it immaculate. She stripped out of her torn clothes and walked toward the shower.

Marc and Alana know even in these trying times, Anat is out wreaking havoc. She has no respect.

They know they need to end her madness. But how?

They read their old comics and saw what the Hulk, Sith, and Jedi would do. Marc grew up loving the Hulk, Emperor, Vader, and Yoda. But generally leaned dark.

They got out of their pajamas and put on hazmat suits and went out. They knew they had many places to investigate. Anat was known to stir trouble all over the city.

They started in Flushing Meadows-Corona Park. It is a beautiful but usually filthy park with no drainage. Alana and Anat have fought each other there.

They marched in and hiked toward the World’s Fair Globe. The park was deader than dead. They walked toward the zoo. They didn’t see her. Nor did they smell her.

They kept walking. They didn’t want to jump on the trains or ferry to head to Central Park, Wolfe’s Pond Park or her other haunts.

They kept their heads up and kept patrolling. They headed toward the building that houses the swimming pool. All of a sudden an apricot nailed Alana in the back of her head. She fell back. Marc grabbed her.

They looked everywhere and didn’t see their nemesis. They walked a few feet and more dried fruit was falling. Marc looked up at and saw her Anat at the top of a tree. She looked like something out of a B level horror flick.

Alana ran for the tree and scaled it like a reptile. She pulled her mask off and started shooting wine. Grapes were hitting her. She laughed. I’m being shot with what my wine is made of. She knew she had to fight harder.

From the ground, Marc launched pomegranates at Anat, who was still at the top of the tree.

Alana climbed higher and grabbed Anat by the neck. Anat started to wobble. She started to fall. In her flight to the ground, she grabbed Alana’s ankles. Alana kicked her ground and kicked Anat. She kept flying.

All of a sudden she landed on her stomach. She let out a scream like a dying animal. An animal she was. But she wasn’t dying. She was injured. But ready to fight. But she couldn’t move.

Marc stood over her and drowned her in honey. Alana jumped from the tree and landed with her feet into Anat’s face. Anat’s legs kicked up as Alana landed. Alana rolled to the ground and got up.

Anat was withering in pain. But trying her best to rise. Alana looked at Marc. Their lips locked.

 

Marc and his mom were supposed to go to the Holy Land. But instead, Marc and Alana have been locked in Alana’s shire for days cause of the Coronavirus.
The two strange lovebirds listened to Morrissey’s new album, “I’m not a dog on a chain” many times. They also listened to some blues and off course lots of Bauhaus. They discussed life. At least their view of it. Occasionally, they texted their families and friends.

Marc did services with his friend’s shul in Rockville, Md. But they would never go there on a bus…. A little R.E.M. for you.

They stayed off social media. It was made up of too many uneducated people who are now infectious disease experts. Most of the loudest mouths never even graduated accredited schools. The two of them read their Kindles and just stared at the walls.

Jen and Tzipora responded to their texts. They were just as bored. Then there was Anat. She was out and about. Naturally, she ignored the wash your hand’s edict. She was as gross as ever. But she was feeling happier. It was as if she was pleased with the world being torn apart. She figured people finally knew how she felt. She plastered shuttered businesses with dried fruit. Occasionally she shot one of the lone passersby with it.

She hit some stray animals and just laughed. Remember she’s a Stanford grad with a great job. But warped. Very warped. If she only cleaned up she’d be pretty and guys would go after her. But she refused.

NY 1 was out patrolling the empty streets of a once-bustling city and reported on Anat’s handiwork. They didn’t know who did it. Multiple reporters just said they noticed dried fruit stuck the windows and gates on many shuttered stores. And an awful odor in the streets.

Marc and Alana saw the report. They looked at each other. They knew they had to act.