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Kristin Foglestad
Hi [o: >c_welles_tinley@mailnow.com< From: >e.welles@cochranhealth.org< Hi [I’m sorry that it’s you who’s receiving this but you’re the only one I could think of who might help. I know this isn’t the ideal first communication between you and the child you haven’t seen in twelve years, but I figure it’s now or never. You may not know me anymore, but I know a little about you. Dad still talks about how you left us because “you couldn’t handle being a mother.” Thankfully, I didn’t have to look far for a way to contact you. Computer privacy my ass.] Anyways, with all this quarantine shit going on I’m too scared to leave my house. What you already know is, I got real sick as a kid. But what you don’t know is that it left my lungs weak as f*ck. I just know that if I catch this COVID crap then it’s the end of the line for me. My brother, my dad and I didn’t prepare for almost everything to shut down, and we were almost out of food and my meds, so I let them go. Only my dad came back yesterday. Apparently, Andy (my brother) made the decision to spend a night at his friend’s place. His friend lives with the back of his house to the woods alongside a dumbass doomsday trailer. His friend was quarantining in the trailer while his parents were in the house. Andy figured it would be safe. But he came back this morning all scratched up. Didn’t say anything to dad and I just stormed into the bathroom. It looked like there was a bite mark on his leg. Bleeding pretty bad. He insisted he was okay. Dad is an essential worker, (he works reception and data logging for our local health clinic) and needed to get to work so he took Andy’s word for it and left. Somethings not right with Andy. He keeps…popping up places, standing in corners like in the Blair Witch Project. I was in the kitchen making a sandwich when he was suddenly just there. Standing in a shadowed corner of the kitchen next to the pantry. Something was wrong. He was breathing heavily, it may have just been the light, but his eyes looked yellow, his skin looked waxy and it almost looked like he was drooling. I kept my cool and tried to do the sisterly thing and asked him if he wanted a sandwich, tuna fish, with olives, on sourdough, his favorite. I wouldn’t call it a growl as the sound he made but more like a…groan? He sounded like a dying cow. I couldn’t help but laugh. It 30
