Vakcine!
Finally out for a little stroll, if not for anything else, the masks should feel how it is outside, lurking behind every corner, with watchful glances, not to bump on some zombie. When they mean zombie, they are thinking, of course, on virus contaminated person. Not any kind of virus, but this new one, horrific, since it has spread around in the present times. Advanced science of a new millennium was thought to tackle this microscopic beast with ease. Nature likes to strike back without any emotions, since it has none and with the vengeance. As he was thinking of it, he considered that he was watching one too many Hollywood blockbuster movie this year. Hardly surprising as the whole year people are locked in and American movies are the best entertainment all around. “Even my dog enjoys them and is used to various explosions throughout the movies. Well, much more today than last month.”
“Vaccine, vaccine”, could be heard from a little square, once a place for a street market and pretty empty these days.
“What is this?” — With fear in his voice elderly gentleman talks aloud looking ahead, holding tighter his wife. “There is no hospital around.”
“Maybe it is a mobile unit”, frightened, she answers. Fear, ever since this modern plague has roamed the country, everyday’s companion for them and their generation. Like it or not, they had to check it out.
Dressed strangely, at least in their mind, a tall figure of a salesman with a very short hairstyle, the one they don’t approve, is calling people to his booth stand. “Two boxes, on top of each other, a few items and one can call himself seller”, Hans is thinking. However, neither he, nor his wife aren’t stopping. Seeing them from the distance, approaching, the trader screams with a lot of confidence:
“Vaccine, vakcine”. Inaccurate pronunciation angers local man as he understands it is some foreigner with foreign stuff and he doesn’t like it. His wife is drawn like the moth to the flame and he can’t let her go alone. Together in sickness and in health and especially now, when covid-19 outbreak is on the loose and could drug forever and a little bit more, apparently. Bad thoughts linger on, only ones remaining.
“What is this?” — He stops two meters away, as instructed daily for who knows how long.
“Vakcine”.
Hans’ ears nearly fell off, with his brain in no better situation.
“From where?” — He chooses to ignore all his senses.
“Serbische”, the man is generally delighted. Finally, after centuries of only bad things coming from his homeland, he could say it with pride and enthusiasm.
“No way”, Hans answers without thinking, but his wife joins in:
“Yes, I heard it yesterday. Serbian president said it on the CNN, they have abundance of them and will give to the needy.”
“Where was I when this was in the news? It was like Biblical Flood, an onetime event”, Hans is considering, looking at the man two meters ahead, carefully examining his face. Without any to compare as he doesn’t go to the same places as those Balkan guys do, he could only ask — “How much?”
With fingers the man answers. One would expect they have learnt calculating in German by now, but he only replies:
“25 Euros, that is too much! Come now my dear.”
The woman stands for a second or two and then obeys.
“Are you nuts, this was our chance to obtain proper living again”, she whispers close to him.
“Don’t worry, I have a plan”. Nobody would make me look like an idiot in my own town, contemplating deep inside.
Tomorrow they are walking the same square and hear the salesman. Again, Hans’ ears don’t like it. However there is a queue and the boxes with a different character, his skin is darker.
“Probably some cousin of his”, looking at each other.
After waiting nearly an hour, they approach two boxes. The price is written on some cardboard. Hans and his wife open eyes widely — 75 Euros, with some flowers drawn across.
“What is this”, he protests. He was expecting a lower price.
The salesman smiles and opens his arms as saying this is what you can get, take it without any ado.
“Where is the man from yesterday?”
“He is back in Serbia to buy more”, a small girl stands up speaking proper German. “At least one normal person in this family”, Hans ponders.
“This is my father, Celik. We are Turkish, but vaccines are genuine, Serbian, the best on the market“.
They both look amazed, whispering together as Hans’ face is pretty red. He doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it all.
“We would like 8 doses”, the woman takes the control, “we need to think of our neighbours”.
“600 Euros”, the girl gives her hand up right.
Hans is furious:
“500, we should get a discount. We were here yesterday. This is our town”, nearly whispering in the end”.
The child’s hand sticks out firmly.
“Come down dear, it is just the money”, as she opens her purse and does the trade. Slowly, they are walking away.
