can two positives make a negative?
there's a metallic orchestra of sounds that flood over every night. a combination of crickets on steroids mixed in with beeping tree frogs. what was once an auditory sensation that welcomed me out of LA is now a deafening reminder that i am stuck in jamaica - quarantined in an overpriced resort and trapped in a hut with a bunch of mosquitos. i'm stationed on the second floor, where beyond the wood shutters are tropical shades of lush greens, reminding me of existing in a fun treehouse. but every night, once the critters start their performance, the looming darkness no longer provides me a distraction from the octagonal walls that trap me.
if the tree frogs had more volume over the locusts, it would make for a more satisfying concert. the gleeps are a nice undertone that i try to focus on. otherwise, the squeakiness of the crickets scratch at my ears and there is always one outlier that sings opposite the group. sometimes i see myself in that individual. going against the grain just to do so.
maybe that's how i ended up here. out of a group of traveling five, i am the only one who tested positive for covid. but, i guess i feel healthy? we each brought two rapid covid tests that came with an appointment to facetime someone WFHing. they watch us take the test in a rather seamless tech invention that systemizes travel-friendly covid tests through apps and bluetooth. after doing the test twice, and testing positive twice, a myriad of methods to cheat the system come to mind.
the first positive was met with universal doubt and hope. after all, last year during the emotional height of the pandemic, i tested positive after volunteering on juneteeth. at the time, it still felt 'taboo' to catch covid. like if you did, you were the leper that didn't follow the easy instructions. no one else around me did. nor did i have symptoms. a few days later i tested negative. the man i swapped spit with also tested negative. nonetheless, he sort of took it as an opportunity to rekindle what he had lost by encouraging us to quarantine together for two weeks. at least this time i'm locking down without emotional manipulation. oh wow, what a pathetic upgrade.
'take it again - make another appointment, you'll be okay. this has happened before' my four friends with their negative results assured me. so i purchased the next available appointment, two hours out from my first, and waited. it was a long two hours: i followed a youtube HIIT workout, picked at my chin, put a charcoal mask on, facetimed my boyfriend, plucked hair out of my body, stood under a cold shower, and then rushed to alex's phone to make my facetime appointment. alex's phone. because i, of course, dropped mine in the ocean yesterday while paddleboarding.
i'd consider myself a lucky human, but that doesn't always mean good luck. just events that conjure many 'ofc that would happen to rachel'. losing my phone and getting things for free is a balanced act. most of the time luck is on my side and my lost items resurface. like the last time when i lost my phone at an underground rave in mexico city and it returned to my possession the day i flew out. but this time, it fell into a deep abyss because we had paddled beyond the shallow reefs that could've saved my phone.
'hello can you hear me?'
'oh yeah, i'm here'
'okay let's open your rapid test and get started'
the covid agent and i run through the series of instructions, small talk, nose swabbing, and wait another 15 minutes to get my results. positive. screenshot it to the group chat. fuck. fuuuuuuck.
'raych maybe you need to take a PCR test - call the front desk and ask for one' - ok ok ok
'maam our nurse just left - she's already been here several days. these things should've been accounted for beforehand' the front desk automatically assumed i was (well, am) a naive tourist who didn't arrange any covid logistics for my departure. 'you can get a rapid test at the airport' she finished.
'im so sorry, i actually did all the arrangements and two rapid tests. they came back positive' my heart sank saying that out loud officially to the hotel.
'oh miss, please don't cry. oh dear, okay. let me see what i can do, but miss, i warn that it doesn't look like you will make the same flight as your friends tomorrow. the pcr test takes a few days. but we can see what we can do.'
an angel of a nurse comes to my door within an hour. she swabs my nose and i tip her for her time. and now i wait. wait for an answer that will unfold exactly how i will spend the next two weeks. i spend the day emotionally preparing for the worst while also emotionally investing in the best. my friends enjoy their last day on the resort playing tennis and swimming in the lagoon. they also leave food at my door. little offerings of support because at this point, there's nothing to control. not even volume of the jungle sounds.
(i started this at 5am because i woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. my octagonal prison slowly filled with sunlight and the critter concert faded out. like a 5am last call on a karaoke machine in ktown. now i feel more defeated than i do any inkling of humor.)
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