HUM Dan Hawley (good inspirational books txt) 📖

Samantha and Jason sat together, hunched over their food, taking in mouthfuls of Basmati rice soaked in curry sauce. The coconut milk supplied sweetness to the fresh, savory vegetables. Jason poked at the tofu.

Samantha had unmuted the news, but there was no new information. Even the increasing case count and death tolls had become mundane. It was all just part of life now. It was a sad truth, but until the large pharmaceutical companies developed a vaccine, not much could be done other than wearing a mask and sanitizing the skin off your hands. Every night, the main argument that took center stage seemed to be: What was worse? A portion of the population contracting and dying from the virus, or the financial ruin and mental health disintegration of the population, leading to depression, anxiety, and suicide? In other words, was the cure worse than the disease?

These debates showed the news anchor in the studio, with a person framed in a picture-in-picture, broadcasting from their phone or webcam in their home office or kitchen. Jason wondered how many of them even wore pants. He wouldn’t, he thought. The debate raged on as one expert on mental health argued that more people would die from suicide and domestic abuse than from COVID-19. Another expert said if people didn’t stay in their homes, the death toll could easily double in the next three months. The news even featured guests who believed that their fundamental freedoms and rights had been stripped away by being forced to wear a mask. Samantha thought these people must live privileged lives if their biggest complaint was having to wear a mask in public. The news also reported, very infrequently, about a small fraction of people who believed the whole thing was a government plot, designed to use fear to control the population; to give up their rights for more security. Some thought the pandemic was a lie; others believed the government distorted the data to make the situation appear worse than it was. God knows why.

Samantha raised the remote in her hand, and with the push of a button, the screen went black and silent.

“That’s about as much of that I can take today.”

She put the remote down and looked at Jason. “How’s the shoulder?”

Jason’s icepack was half melted and lukewarm. “Not bad. Gonna eat some more Advil before bed. Hopefully, I’ll sleep; I feel exhausted.”

“Same,” Samantha responded.

She grabbed the pack from Jason, got up, and headed to the freezer to throw it in.

The couple had been in Seattle for over three months but were still adjusting to the time change. They spent their whole lives existing in the eastern time zone before moving, and jetlag was still very much a factor in their lives. Three hours makes a huge difference. In their new home, if they went to bed at 10:00 p.m. (an unheard-of thing for Jason), their bodies thought it was 1:00 a.m. When they woke at 7:00 a.m., their bodies thought it was 10:00 a.m. This discrepancy made Jason feel like he was always running late—an extremely stressful thing for a man who hated to be late. Samantha enjoyed the change, however. She liked going to bed early and waking up in the same fashion, and the move had forced Jason to follow suit. Although, she thought, she wished he slept better.

* * *

“Want a fresh icepack?” Samantha asked as she entered the bedroom. Jason was lying on top of the covers, one leg crossed over the other, wearing only his grey boxers. His right shoulder looked swollen and angry in the lamplight. At the other end of his arm, his hand rested on his abdomen. His left hand cradled the back of his head on the white pillowcase as he stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Hm? Oh, um, no, that’s ok. It’ll just get the bed all wet and nasty. I took some painkillers and muscle relaxers, so that should do the trick.”

Samantha nodded and crawled into bed beside Jason. She rolled to her left, plugged in her phone, and set it on the nightstand. Then she rolled to her right and kissed Jason on the cheek.

“Minty fresh,” he said.

Samantha clasped her hands together under her cheek, nestled into the pillow, and closed her eyes.

Jason wondered how anyone could sleep like that. She looked like a peaceful cherub, angelic and serene. He fought back the jealousy.

“Love you,” they said, almost in unison.

Jason squinted, and a quiet grunt escaped his lips as he adjusted himself to get under the comforter. Samantha didn’t like to sleep with a sheet; she said it always ended up crumpled and in a ball at the foot of the bed, so why bother? Just the comforter was fine with Jason unless it was really hot; then he wanted nothing but a thin sheet covering his nakedness. But it didn’t get that hot in Seattle anyway, so the point was moot.

Jason looked over at his nightstand as he reached for the lamp switch. He paused with his hand holding the long, dangling chain that controlled the light, staring at the items on the tabletop. With a sigh, Jason let the chain go and opened the drawer. As quietly as possible, to not disturb Samantha, he stored everything in the drawer and slid it shut. Might as well, he thought and turned out the light.

The dull ache in his tailbone and throbbing pain in his shoulder kept Jason awake until the painkillers and muscle relaxers found their way into his bloodstream. He relaxed into the mattress as the pain reduced to mild discomfort. His eyelids were heavy, and his eyes burned behind them, dry and tired. In the background, the bedroom walls vibrated their constant note. Jason focused on the hum until he could hear nothing else.

His earphones were in the office, and he was too tired and sore to retrieve them, so he just lay there, half asleep and listening.

“Hummmm… Hummmm…”

Jason hummed along