Learning Curve

Coralee went about her day, starting with the usual cleaning of her house. She rubbed warm water on a dish towel in her sink, on the appliances, and then the tile floor, scouring as she griped. Her sister from up north was visiting and suggested she use common cleaning solutions. Anyone would do, even natural ones. “Coralee, you know you can make your life easier with spray cleaner. Not to mention this house would smell a lot better.” The house had become dingy, and a musty smell permeated the walls and curtains.

Bristling at that remark, Coralee said, “Look here. Just because you went off and got a fancy science degree don’t mean you know jack shit. Water is pure and has no dangerous chemicals. It’s the way God intended.”

Jenna replied, “But it’s proven that stuff like bleach kills germs. And that’s the smell around here. At least use dish detergent on the dishes.” She looked at the pile of dishes in the sink, laden with food debris from breakfast. “Why don’t you let me do the dishes for you.” She didn’t want to come off as holier-than-thou, but she also wanted her sister to get up-to-date info on disinfectants.

“Don’t use any of that green stuff you brought. Hot water and a good scrubbing is enough.”

Jenna lowered her head and wondered why her sister resisted anything science based. Coralee lost her husband in the pandemic and needed help maintaining the house. Jenna said, “Then at least let me run out to the store and pick up some groceries.” She started jotting down a list on her phone.

“All right. Milk, bananas, frozen lasagna, lunchmeat, and Sunny-D.” Her daughter loved Sunny-D, and momma was going to make sure she was happy. “Slim Jims, chocolate syrup, and pepperoni in those little packets.”

“Nothing healthier? That frozen stuff is so full of preservatives. I can make it from scratch. And how about real orange juice instead?” Jenna added.

“We don’t need any special stuff. Just the usual.” Coralee continued cleaning as Kimmy walked into the kitchen. She was short for her age and thinner than a 5-year-old should be. Her pale skin was pockmarked from chicken pox when she was just 3 years old. Her mother didn’t think shots were necessary; they made the babies cry, she said. Besides, she’s going into kindergarten next month, and she’s “doing fine” according to Coralee.

“Hey, Kimmy. Do you want to go to the store with me?” Jenna asked her niece.

“Ok. Lemme brush my teeth like a good girl.” Jenna helped her brush her teeth. She looked at the tube of toothpaste that was barely used. “I only do this when we got company. Momma don’t want to waste this.” Kimmy finished and dried her face with a towel that smelled vaguely of mildew, and then she hung it back up on the doorknob. “Ok. Let’s go!”

Back in the kitchen, Jenna looked around for masks. “Where do you keep your masks?”

“My what?”

Jenna sighed, “Your masks. Since you and Kimmy didn’t get the shots, she needs to wear it out in public.”

“I don’t want to hear anything about that. We don’t have no masks.”

Jenna nodded and left the house with her niece. She drove her sister’s car up to the front of the house, and Kimmy got in and immediately changed the radio station. Jenna clicked her seatbelt, looked at her, and said, “Are you forgetting something?”

Confusion ran across her face. “My hair?”

“No, Kimmy. You’re five. You have to sit in the back seat and put your seatbelt on.” Jenna looked in the back and saw there was no booster seat.

“Oh, momma says we don’t need to. In case of an accident, we’ll get tangled up in it.” Kimmy climbed over the seat into the back. “And we don’t have any puffy bags in our car.”

Jenna couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Yes, it was an older vehicle, but the physics remained the same. “Kimmy, there’s science behind this. Putting a seatbelt on can save your life in an accident. Most people-“ she paused. She didn’t want to finish the sentence with “die in accidents being thrown out of the car or window.”

“Most people what, Aunt Jenna?”

“Um, most people like feeling safe with a seatbelt on.”

“Oh, ok.”

They arrived at the local grocery store, and Jenna reached into her glove box and pulled out some disposable masks. She put one on Kimmy, and they went into the store.

“This makes me look like a nurse. I’d like to be a nurse one day.”

“I hope so, too, Kimmy,” Jenna replied. “Nothing would make me happier.”

They pushed the cart up the aisles and picked up the items on Coralee’s list. Jenna added a few things to the list like antibiotic ointment, peroxide, a bottle of dish detergent, and some bleach – basic things that would improve the cleanliness of the house and help prevent physical infections for both of them. They didn’t even have band-aids in the house. She loved her sister dearly but wondered how their paths went in such different directions. They both had the same opportunities; Jenna went to college for her degree in biological science while Coralee married early and started having kids. Her first born, John, passed away from pertussis. Coralee and her husband decided they’d raise their children naturally without any strange chemicals being injected. And she wouldn’t listen to anyone around her. Even after John Sr. passed away.

At the checkout, Kimmy stated, “I can’t wait until I learn to read,” as she looked at the magazines and newspapers. “I want to know what all this means.” She pointed to a photo of people crying in a group. “They look so sad.”

The photo accompanied an article about a single family losing four members to COVID variant more than a year after the lockdown. Jenna forced a smile. “They’re sad because sometimes sad things happen.” It was a weak explanation, but how could she explain the science behind vaccinations and good hygiene to a five-year-old whose mother never taught her?

They checked out and put the bags in the car. Kimmy remembered to sit in the back and fumbled with the seatbelt until it clicked. “Look, Aunt Jenna, I did it.” She was looking out the window when she asked, “Can I keep the mask?”

“No, sweetie. They’re for one use because of the germs.”

“What germs? I don’t see any germs.”

“The germs are very tiny and spread through the air in places like stores.” Jenna felt odd addressing this after months of hearing the directives. “You have to be safe when you’re away from home.” Kimmy would need a lot of information to get ready for school.

Once they got home, Jenna unpacked the items and put them away. Her sister noted the additional items. Coralee eyed her and said, “You’re taking those home with you, right?”

Jenna said, “No, Coralee. Listen to me. It’s very important.” She told Kimmy to sit at the table. Coralee wiped her hands on her shirt and sat down like a petulant child. She had the face of someone who had heard this story before. “Coralee, I love you to bits. You know that. You know I love Kimmy, too.” Kimmy smiled. “And that’s why I insist on helping you. I have a book on the basics of health, and why it’s important.” As she was talking, she noticed a letter from the school board on the table. “Oh, is that Kimmy’s kindergarten registration?”

“Yes,” Coralee replied, “but they won’t let her in unless she gets a bunch of shots. I want her to go to school and be happy. But they want to poison her first.”

“It’s not poison,” Jenna said, “I promise you. If you want, I’ll take her, and you can stay home. You won’t even notice.”

“But she’ll come home sick.”

“No, she’ll be fine. The shots will keep her from getting sick and making others sick. She didn’t have to get the chickenpox.” She looked over at the permanent marks on Kimmy’s skin. “I promise you – if you let me help you, I can show you a world of things that will help you. Science has come a long way from when you and I were kids. And they have cute masks for kids.”

“I don’t know. All this science stuff has been wrong before. Look at the shots they gave women in the 50s, and the babies came out with flippers instead of arms.”

“Yes,” Jenna said, “they did studies on people who weren’t pregnant. They knew it worked well against morning sickness and nausea. Actually,” she paused, “they’re prescribing it now to older people undergoing chemo.”

“Chemo makes sick people feel sicker. That doesn’t make sense at all. You’re telling me chemicals are good but then chemicals can be bad, too.”

Jenna took a deep breath. “Chemo targets the cancer, and yes, it’s a tricky disease. But the recovery rate is much better if they catch it early. It runs in our family. How was your last gynecological visit?”

Coralee looked down. “I’ve never had one. I can’t afford that.”

“WHAT?” Jenna exclaimed. “Medicaid or the local health department can help you there. I lost a dear friend to uterine cancer that could have been prevented if she had gone to her doctor annually.” She took her sister’s hands, and said, “I know things have been difficult since John died, but you must take care of yourself for Kimmy’s sake. And take care of Kimmy, too.”

Coralee took a few moments to collect her thoughts. “Ever since you went off to college, you started spouting off about ‘science this’ and ‘science that,’ and I never believed a word of it. Until John Jr. died. I felt lost. The doctor said whooping cough was preventable. I wanted to die, too. All my life I thought I’d just be ok doing what I’ve always done. Then,” she looked at Kimmy, “my John died, and I didn’t have a chance to say good-bye.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “They gave me his wedding band. That’s all I have left of him.” She took a tissue and wiped her eyes. “I’m scared, Jenna. Scared. I don’t know if…if….I’m going in the right direction.”

Jenna looked her sister and said softly, “And that’s why I’m here. I’ll help you understand some amazing things going on. Things that defy explanation. But science has been evolving, and there are brilliant discoveries being made every day. I promise,” she looked at Kimmy, “I will help both of you make it through kindergarten. But you’ll both have to do what I ask. Do I have your permission, Sis?”

Coralee heaved a sigh. “I guess so. I don’t understand any of it, but I don’t want to lose anyone else.” She smiled and thought of the big changes she was about to go through, thinking she’d never live to see this day, paying attention to her big sister. She knew some difficult choices lay in front of her. She needed to use her once-wicked sense of humor to make it easier. “Do you have a Kit-kat in any of them bags?”