Contagion
It started out as mild stomach cramps, with the symptoms passing within a few days. Most people didn’t even bother going to a doctor. And it spread, via the simplest and most dangerous of methods — touch. Within a year, although no one realised it, everyone in the whole world was infected. The group of women who’d initiated this contagion met for the last time to finalise the spell.
“It’s time to end this. Are we all agreed?”
Some nodded, some sat up straight. One woman asked, “What if there are people untouched by the spell, say in Greenland?”
“We can’t do anything about it. We just have to hope that this brings about enough societal change that those few won’t matter.”
Another piped up, “Can’t we keep it contagious for a few more months?”
“Desperate to live, eh?” whispered another snarkily.
“Stop it,” said the leader, “We will not extend our deadline. We’ll start off at a month, then we’ll push another month, then another and before we know it, we’d have lost another year.”
“Whether now or next year, the spell is still going to work, right?”
“That’s not the point. The reason we fixed a date is so that we can all get our affairs in order before that time. And also because none of us actually wants to die. It’s just what we need to do, for our children and grandchildren.”
“Attitudes have changed, you know.”
“Not enough. And every time we think we’ve accomplished something, someone comes along touting so-called traditions and all our work, our sisters and allies’ work shatters. How often will we rebuild?”
“We’re not spiders after all,” retorted the snarky one.
The leader continued, “It’s time for action. You knew the terms when we started this process. This is not the time to have second thoughts.”
The group sighed and the initial protestor said, “Yeah, I know. Guess life’s still got a good hold of me.”
“As it does for all. That’s what the spell needs. Willingness to sacrifice the life we all cherish so much,” said the leader, patting the protestor on her shoulder in a vaguely commiserating gesture. They were all feeling the same apprehension, the same sense of irredeemable loss…and the same flicker of hope. This was how it had been for centuries, a few sacrificing everything to save the world; whether you called them reformists or protestors, it began with them, those who had found their moral courage, who had the mettle to speak out and speak up; and the changes they unleashed, slowly brought the rest of the world around.
“Let’s begin,” she said.
The group got up and approached the cauldron boiling in the center of the room. The liquid within was scentless and so black that from certain angles, the cauldron looked empty.
The thirteen women arranged themselves around it, knives in their hands. The leader whispered the ending words of the spell and nodded at her sisters. In the same instant, all of them slashed their wrists and let the blood flow into the cauldron. Liquid mouths, with bloated lips and pointed teeth rose from the cauldron and latched on to their hands. Some screamed, others remained stoic.
Within minutes, their exsanguinated corpses fell to the ground. The potion turned colourless; then the cauldron burst with an ultrasonic shriek.
At that moment, the world changed.
The first person to feel the effects of the spell was a man riding a crowded bus, who was using the cover of the crowd to grope women. His stomach convulsed, vomit filled his mouth. He tried to control it, but it was insistent. He pushed through the crowd to the doors, got off at the next stop and vomited into the nearest trash can. He immediately felt a bit better, so he hopped on the next bus to continue what he’d started. No sooner than he had touched a woman that he felt vomit rising up. Thinking he was sick, he decided to go home.
The next day, he decided to go back to his crime spree. Again, as soon as he groped a woman, he felt the urge to vomit. And this time, he vomited blood. Scared, he ran to the hospital where, after a multitude of tests and a hefty bill, they pronounced him okay. After a few days rest and swallowing a high-strength anti-emetic, he retried his tricks on the bus and immediately started vomiting blood. His brain finally made the connection. He visited psychologists, specialists, witch doctors and exorcists, but none could cure him. Finally, he did the only thing he could— he stopped harassing.
At the same time as when he first started vomiting, another person outside a bar, was trying to force the girl he had been talking with to come to his house. She refused and walked away. He grabbed her and pulled her towards his car. Immediately, he felt the urge to vomit. The girl took the opportunity to make her escape. Undeterred, he tried again and was met with bloody vomit. He too took a few tries to make the connection.
In another corner of the world, a battered spouse, lying bloody and exhausted, saw their husband run off to the bathroom before he could undo the zip on his trousers. He never touched them again.
From that fateful day, people all over the world — spouses, boyfriends, girlfriends, strangers — started seeing their harassers and attackers succumbing to vomit. No one could control it or stop themselves from vomiting.
Within days, videos of potential harassers spewing vomit had gone viral.
Scientists the world over were perplexed by this sudden change in human physiology. It was as if the human species had suddenly evolved to vomit if they experienced sexual desire along with violent tendencies. Weirdly, consensual S&M didn’t induce the same effect. No amount of speculation, theorising or research on the culpable hormones and neurotransmitters resulted in answers.
The rest of the world acclimated to the change pretty quickly. The double threat of being identified and the mortification of public vomiting helped reduce harassment to near zero. The others who availed private spaces for their nefarious deeds found themselves crippled by severe stomach cramps and vomiting, to the point where they were physically unable to do anything. Consequently cases dropped to null.
Some of course, continued to try and were publicly reviled. Urban dictionary added new terms “chuck” and “spewer”, which quickly integrated themselves into common parlance, and were soon considered the worst of swear words as harassment became taboo.
A generation gave way to another but the spell’s influence continued. It had integrated itself into the DNA.
Somewhere in the soul of the universe, the thirteen women smiled.
© Indira Reddy 2020
