It’s the end of work, and I’ve been feeling pretty overwhelmed for some time, so I felt like getting away again. I have the right gear: my journal, my Bible, my novel, money for Chinchin and Schwepps, so I drive down to my secret place to be revived. I find my spot empty. It’s a perfect spot, direct view of the entrance so I can’t be snuck up on; good lighting so I can see what I’m doing but also poor such that I can’t be identified easily; other tables are a bit afar so nobody is encouraged to make conversation – The perfect spot. The TV is turned on. News of the Corona Virus filled the air space. The virus is spreading exponentially, leaving a toll of bodies in Asia and Europe, and now a few cases in Africa.

I settle down to my Schwepps, now penning down some thoughts and writing my ‘Dear God’ letters, unburdening my heart.

“This is pretty sad, innit?”

I turn to the table closest to me, and that empty chair is now filled with an elderly man…oh boy! There goes my quiet time. I wonder how I didn’t see him come in. I look back at the TV and they’re talking about the number of deaths from Covid-19 so far.

“Yes sir, it’s a pandemic,” I replied and turned my attention back to my journal, hoping my curt answer will get him off of me.

“It really is! And going on for years now. From the bite of that stuff, infecting people’s hearts.”

I don’t think I’ll be catching any breaks with this man. Well, if you’re going to interrupt, you may as well get your facts right.

“Years? Nope, We’re still counting in months sir. And word is that it started from the Wuhan market in China. I don’t think the virus spreads to the heart though. It causes respiratory distress, so, the lungs.”

“Well, It has definitely infected people in the Wuhan market in China but I don’t know that it started there. But this virus is quite the killer, people dying in the Millions”

I legit laughed out loud. “Millions? Don’t be morbid. Yes, it is a deadly virus, but recorded deaths are in the thousands. We would be much closer to the end of the world if people where dying like that.”

“How does it kill anyway? Pardon my intrusion”

Now, you know how nice it feels when people talk to you about something you know that they don’t…that good, validating feeling. I didn’t mind the intrusion as much.

“Well, basically a virus hijacks the cells reproductive machinery and makes that cell produce more and more of the virus, till that cell and organ is overwhelmed,” I answered.

“Hmmm, so everything that comes out of the heart after the infection will be viral?”

“Lungs. But yes, that is the basic gist of it.”

The man was lost in thought. A little silence. I was beginning to think the conversation was over, and went back to my writing.

“It beats me how people can still continue living life normally, ignoring the spreading infection in their bodies, just essentially carried away by all their desires and ambitions, not fully grasping that death waits at the end of the journey for them.”

Okay, this man makes the word ‘ignorant’ seem very mild. And I was going to let him know.

Yeeeeaaah, what rock did you crawl up out from?!! In fact, you didn’t just crawl out, you are the rock. I hope I just thought about that and not not said it out loud. “People are self-isolating, cities are on lock-down, people are not going to work, stocking up on food stuff and toilet rolls and other supplies to last a while. The economy is crashing. Organizations and people meaning well are donating lots of money to salvage the situation. I assure you, nobody is carried away by anything. All we want to do is breathe. People are putting up social media challenges, just as a way to encourage each other in a grim situation.”

He chuckled, “I am the rock alright. It’s a pity that all these measures can’t stop the virus from killing the victims, or limit its spread.”

“Well, the virus doesn’t spread by itself, people spread it. So self-isolation and good personal hygiene are good preventive measures,” I replied.

He’s lost in thought again, a forlorn look on his face. “It’s also sad that some people live for months and years, thinking they’re free of the virus because of how, how, ‘good’ their hygiene is, while all the while incubating it.”

“Actually, incubation period of the Covid-19 is 14 days,” I said. “He will certainly know he may not be free of it when he’s coughing in 2 weeks.”

Still sad, He said, “Can you imagine it? The world without the virus, no more infection, no more death…aaaah, a beautiful world.”

“Well, I’ll drink to that” and took a swig from my bottle of Schwepps.

I mean, I didn’t need to imagine much, I could just think back to last year when there was no virus, which I did, and remembered why I was here in the first place, to vent about how broken I am.

He seemed to have read my mind and got up to leave. “Thanks for the talk. Sorry I took up your time.”

He walked towards the door, and suddenly turned round to me. “Pardon my asking one more question, why do they keep dying when they can get the cure? Why do people that have benefited from the cure not tell others about it?”

“What are you talking about sir? There is no cure yet. We’d be having a different conversation had there been a cure.”

He looked me straight in the eyes. “Oh, but there is! It’s in the Blood!”

It was at that moment I recognized his voice…at that moment, I knew we were having two different conversations, two different viruses, one leagues deadlier than the other. I know this voice, not too long ago, I heard the whisper, “Let me consume you,” the voice that saved me from the beast, the virus and still is doing so. I saw it in his face again “Let me consume you.” I have been painfully ignorant.

“Let me give you a ride sir,” I said.

He looked at my open journal. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be a bother. It’s your secret place, you know.”

“You are the secret, without you, it’s just a place.”

“Well, I don’t want a ride. But you can walk with me.”

---

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Save me from its guilt and power.

Not the labor of my hands
Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All could never sin erase,
Thou must save, and save by grace.

Nothing in my hands I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress,
Helpless, look to Thee for grace:
Foul, I to the fountain fly,
Wash me, Savior, or I die.

While I draw this fleeting breath,
When mine eyes shall close in death,
When I soar to worlds unknown,
See Thee on Thy judgment throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.

Augustus Montague Toplady (1740-1778)