HUM by Dan Hawley (chromebook ebook reader TXT) 📕

need anything, Jason, please reach out.” Video meetings; the new normal.

After William had disconnected from the call, Jason had unbuttoned the top two buttons of his black dress shirt and discarded it in the corner of the room. The wifebeater underneath was much more comfortable.

He wore that same, slightly smelly tank top today, the Friday morning of the appointment. It was like the last glimmer of hope; the last bastion of sanity in a dark, befuddled world. Jason didn’t know what he would do if Dr. Luu couldn’t help him.

Perish the thought.

Dr. Luu HAD to help him. After all, Jason couldn’t be the first person who moved shit around in their sleep, listened to the walls, and sleepwalked in the middle of the day, right? At the very least, the good doctor would likely prescribe some little blue or green pill to treat the symptoms.

Jesus, thought Jason, what if I need an actual therapist? Or what if I’m so fucked up that even that therapist can’t do anything for me?

I’m gonna be a terrible dad.

Jason’s thoughts were interrupted as Samantha darkened the doorway.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied.

The couple just watched each other for a few moments. The laptop fan kicked on, and the sound mingled abrasively with the hum behind the walls. It was like two choir singers who couldn’t quite harmonize. It set Jason’s teeth on edge.

“Lunch is almost ready.”

Samantha looked down and motioned to leave when Jason said, “Thanks, babe.”

She stopped and looked back into his eyes. They were tired but kind, softened by thoughts of the day ahead.

“You’re a saint for putting up with this, with me. I know it’s hard, but you are still there for me, for us. God, it’s corny, but you are my rock, you know, my lighthouse. You guide the way. I will get better for you, Sam. For you and the baby.”

His eyes moved from hers to her stomach. A little pang of fear gripped his insides. It was the first time he mentioned the baby directly to Samantha. When she broke the news two days ago, he had simply hugged her tight and whispered in her ear, “It’s going to be ok.”

Samantha’s smile was kind and soft as she stepped towards Jason to ruffle his scruffy hair. She brushed it to the side, and its natural oils kept it in place.

“I love you,” she said and kissed his forehead. Samantha turned and left for the kitchen, leaving Jason sitting at his desk, looking out the now empty doorway.

* * *

“Drive safe,” Sam said as Jason stood at the apartment door.

“Thanks,” he replied. “I don’t know how long it will be. The receptionist said it’s just a consultation today, so we’ll see. You’ll prolly be back from your thing before me.”

Samantha nodded. She had an ultrasound appointment three blocks away, but not for another hour. It was the final step in the ‘am I really pregnant’ process. Blood and urine can give false positives, but there’s no denying the picture up on that screen—it’s either there or it’s not.

Jason rode the elevator down to the parking garage. He exited the lift and headed towards the black SUV. Another person was getting into their car a few stalls over, and their door shut with an echo that bounced off the grey concrete walls.

Jason’s footsteps also echoed as he pulled out the key fob to unlock his vehicle. The locks opened with a whir and a click, and he opened the door and got in. While pushing in the brake and ignition button to start the car, Jason wondered how long it had been since he last drove. Almost a week, he figured. It was strange to go from driving every day to barely driving at all.

Jason pulled out of his parking spot, mentally calculating how much money they had saved on gas in the last three months. Driving felt foreign, and Jason was awkward behind the wheel until the large metal gate pulled up and open and he entered the street.

There were more vehicles on the street now than at the beginning of the pandemic. However, there were still noticeably fewer than before the lockdown. Usually, a typical Friday afternoon in the city would be quite busy, but with nowhere to go and thousands of people now out of work, Jason was at the sleep clinic twenty minutes early. He pulled into the lot and parked in a spot that faced the front of the building. It was a standalone three-story building, quite old, with brown bricks, a flat roof, and several large, single-pane windows. There was no big sign announcing the building’s occupant, just letters on the door’s window: Dr. Luu, sleep therapist.

Jason pulled out his phone, typed in his password, and opened his conversation with Samantha.

“Here now, a little early,” he wrote.

The ellipses appeared beside her name to indicate she was typing.

“Ok. Good luck!” Samantha’s words appeared on the screen, followed by a thumbs-up emoji.

Jason took a breath, put his phone in his pocket, slipped his surgical mask over his mouth and nose, and went inside.

The front door that Jason entered through opened into a lobby waiting area. He was a bit surprised at how new and clean the inside looked compared to the outside of the building. The old building’s main floor seemed to have recently been renovated into what looked like a regular doctor’s office.

Red plastic chairs with low backs were spaced apart on the glossy black and white checkerboard linoleum floor tiles. A red leather couch rested against a side wall with a Ficus tree standing guard beside it. Jason’s footsteps rang loudly as he walked past an older woman and a child on his way towards the reception desk.

The boy looked ragged, dressed in cheap hand-me-downs and a newsie hat, like he had been transported from the dirty thirties. His pale face and sunken eyes followed Jason as he passed. The boy’s mother reached down and put a protective arm around the child. She did