I held onto Julian’s arm as we hurried through the cobbled streets of Athens. I was finding it hard to keep up, I was gasping for breath. 

Why was Jules in such a hurry? 
It was a lovely day. Could we just take it easy and take in the sights? I could see the Parthenon looming in the distance. 

“C’mon Celia,” yelled Jules.
Why was he yelling? Jules never yelled. 
The doric columns of the Temple of Hephaestus whizzed by on our left. The olive trees swayed in the breeze. People strolled by seemingly without a care in the world. They paid no attention to Jules and me sprinting down the street.

And then, all of a sudden there we were at the Agora of Athens. The place seemed eerily quiet. It should have been bustling at this time of the day. There was a hush around the marketplace. Everyone was assembled in the Royal Stoa. The People's Court was in session. Of course, now I knew why Jules was in such a hurry. It was the trial of Socrates.

Jules let go of my hand and ran inside the agora. I stood rooted at the entrance. My feet refused to move. My breath came out in short bursts. Jules seemed to have no problem navigating amongst the Athenians as he made his way to where Socrates was standing, a serene expression on his face.

“I wish to state that an unexamined life is not worth living,” stated Socrates.
Everyone in the agora gasped in horror.

“I agree,” said Jules. 
Socrates looked at Jules with a smile. 
“No ... no, Jules,” I cried out.
Socrates glared at me. 
“Do you not wish to know what you want out of life? Challenge the norm? Walk into the agora and we will discuss this,” he shouted.
“But I can’t … I just cannot,” I said in despair.

The crowd was getting angry with Jules. Someone threw a pot at his head. It cut his head and blood trickled out of the gash.
“Jules, you’re hurt,” I shouted.
“Help me ... Celia …,” cried Jules, holding his hand out as he fell to the ground. He held his head in agony.
I stood there in frustration. I could not walk into the agora. 
“Help me, help … us,” I cried out.

I woke up with a start with the familiar sweat on my forehead and my heart beating rapidly. The digits on the clock on my bedroom wall displayed 3am.

I put my hand out helplessly on the pillow next to me, desperately hoping to feel Jules’ warm breath, but all I encountered was the cool touch of the pillow sham that I had not washed for the last eight years. It hit me, like it always did when I woke up from my nightmares - I was alone. The walls began to close in on me and my breathing became ragged. My anxiety was getting the better of me. My throat was dry. I needed to get a drink of water. The water glass on the bedside table was too far away. Oh, my God, I was going to die. Jules, I need you.

“Celia, sit up and drink your water,” said Jules, as his voice reverberated in my head.

I forced my hand out to grasp the glass of water and had a few sips. My breathing became easier, my heart shifted to a lower gear. Things came back into focus. I got out of bed, walked a few steps and sank into the chair near the window that overlooked my backyard.

Everything was so quiet. The moon peeked out from under the clouds and moonlight shimmered off the roof of the gazebo. The oak trees stood majestic along the fence. It looked ethereal. Why could I not dream about moonlit nights?  My dreams had unfortunately been transformed about eight years ago when Jules had come back from work fuming.

“I was passed over for my promotion again, Celia. I can’t be the Director after all these years of hard work. The system is setup to work against people like me. To hell with that.”

Jules was in a temper. That was unusual.

“We have enough money, Celia. I’ve examined my life. You know, as Socrates said, an unexamined life is not worth living,” 

Jules loved quoting philosophy. For him, introspection was logical. I should have realized at that instant that life would never be the same again. Jules gave up his job and started working at the youth center in City Fields. I let him do his thing but internally I thought Jules was overreacting.

It was almost daytime now and I turned on the TV to the news channel. This Covid virus was getting out of hand. I pulled the blanket around me as I heard scary things about the virus, facemasks and hydroxychloroquine. And something about not touching your face. I stumbled to the bathroom and scrubbed my hands.

I had not stepped out of the house for many months now. My agoraphobia, diagnosed after Jules had departed, usually kicked into high gear around this time of the year and it had been acute this time. Dr Smith, my therapist made house calls and had doubled her visits. 

I watched the news and absorbed all the Covid-19 information. Oh dear, I would definitely need more facemasks and disinfectant. What about the groceries? I only had about a month’s supply. Would that be enough during the lockdown? Margie made sure that my refrigerator was always well stocked. She was familiar with my meltdowns. And what about this hydroxychloroquine? And toilet paper. I only had a three month supply.

"What can I do, Jules?” I asked, wringing my hands.
“Take a deep breath and walk around the room,” his voice in my head said matter-of-factly.

My cell phone beeped. It was Margie texting me. It was almost as if she was reading my mind.

I will be there at 10am with the groceries. Don’t panic.
Thank you Margie. Can you add toilet paper to the list?
If it's available. You know, I could make a month’s wages right now selling the toilet paper that you already have?

I had a shower and turned on the coffee machine. Jules always thought I made the best latte. I smiled as I thought about it. I could only drink decaf now.

The coffee machine started beeping. What..what was happening? My heart started beating fast as my mind went into warp mode - the machine was going to explode, the kitchen was going to burn down, where’s the fire extinguisher, my feet were not moving. If there was a fire, I would need to run out onto the street. Could I do that when there was a virus around? Maybe I would run out into the backyard instead? The room started spinning.

“Stop Celia. Calm down. Why don’t you check the coffee machine,” admonished Jules.
I dabbed the sweat from my brow and walked over to the machine. Of course, it was beeping. It did not have a coffee pod. The combination of the virus and my anxieties was a devastating mix. Jules, I need you.

My hands shook as I took a few sips of coffee and threw the rest away. Decaf coffee was crap.
Where was Dr. Smith? She could not get here soon enough for my therapy session. The day was starting on a really bad note. 

I received another text from Margie.
I am running late. I might send Marcus with all your supplies.

Marcus was Margie’s son. Jules had mentored him all through school and now he was the first one in his family to attend college. He was probably back home now that colleges had shut down. It would be nice to see the young man. I had a flashback of Jules lecturing Marcus on how to write his  book reports for school. It calmed me down and I broke into a small smile.

I picked up the City Guide of Athens that was lying on the coffee table and put it away under a stack of old magazines. It was my comfort book when I really missed Jules and I had it memorized by now. Jules and I had been planning a trip to Athens that never happened. Dr Smith had advised me a few hundred times against reading the book. It would be best for her to not see it lying around. My therapy was to find closure with the past and the book was not helping.

My cell phone buzzed. It was Dr Smith. People were unusually good at  reading my mind today. She wanted to video chat with me. That was not normal. 

“Celia, I want you to sit down,” said Dr Smith as her face appeared on my screen.
This was not sounding good but I obediently sat down.
“Take five deep breaths.”
I did although it did little to calm the bubble of panic that was rising inside me.
“Celia, I won’t be able to come over for my usual visit…”
“What do you mean? You can’t do that. I need to talk to you. I had my nightmare again. And...and the stupid coffee machine almost gave me a heart attack. You know that this time of the year is the worst,” I interrupted, my voice going up a notch as  my anxiety got the better of me.
“Ok. I am going to have you take five deep breaths again and then clasp and unclasp your hands four times,” said Dr Smith sternly.
“I am going to get a drink of water instead,” I said petulantly.
“That’s fine with me,” she sighed.

I sipped my water. 
“Now that you’ve calmed down Celia, let me get to the point. I am going to have sessions with you at our regular times. It's just not going to be in person. My office has been locked down. I am doing all my sessions online starting today.”
“Uh...okay.” That did not sound so bad.
“Now...tell me about your dream. I assume you visited the agora again?”

We talked about it. It was always the same conclusion.
“Celia, you need to come to terms with Julian’s death. It's been eight years almost to the day. Something in your subconscious seems to bother you.  And I hope you’re not reading the Athens City Guide again.”

“You know, Celia,“ Dr Smith said as we ended our session, “as an agoraphobic, you could be the best candidate for this virus lockdown. Not leaving your house for a while and being fine with it is what people are struggling with now. And you’ve been doing it for many years. You are a veteran. You could teach people how to do it. The rest of the world has normalized itself to your world.”

I let out a laugh. It sounded weird. I had not laughed in a long time. How could I teach people when I could not even step into the agora? 
Wasn't I always the helpless one?

The front door bell rang. I hated its sound since it meant that I needed to open the door. The front door was a portal to the outside world which scared me. I had thrown away the “Welcome” doormat on my front porch. I let the doorbell ring a few times as Jules’ words about the outside world rang in my head:

“When I step out of this door, Celia, all I think about is conflict. It's exhausting.”

The person stopped ringing the doorbell and knocked on the door. This was a relentless person. I pulled myself together and checked the video from the peephole camera on my phone.

A young man stood by the door holding a bag of groceries. Oh wait, it must be Marcus. 

I opened the door and a handsome young man walked in with a smile. I had not seen Marcus in years. 
“Hi, Miss Celia,” he grinned. “Mom asked me to drop these off for you.”

We chatted for a while. He had grown into a terrific young adult and had one more year to complete his degree in Economics. I could not help but think back to all those years when Jules had talked to him about staying in school. Jules would have been so proud of Marcus now.

“You know, I have a summer internship at this finance firm? Now, how am I going to do it in the middle of the pandemic?” Marcus said with a shrug. “As if remote college classes are not bad enough.”

It was good to have company and listen to a young person talking. I listened to his dream about getting a good job and making sure that Margie would be comfortable. Now, that was a dream that sounded agreeable.

As he was leaving, Marcus became serious. 
“You know, Miss Celia, I walked by City Fields yesterday. And I thought about Mr Julian. You know, I owe it all to him. I really wish he was here. He should be here. Such a good man.”

That was my Jules. A good man. I controlled my tears as I said goodbye to Marcus. He said he would stop by again.

I closed the door and let the tears flow. I miss you Jules. I need to let go. But how? 

There were voices outside that pierced into my despair. I wiped my eyes and looked out though the windows.

What was this? A police cruiser had pulled up. 
A cop was talking to Marcus who was talking back to the cop in earnest. The cop looked angry. Marcus looked agitated. Voices were being raised. What was going on? 

A familiar knot built up inside me as my mind flashed back. Eight years ago. I could not block it out any more.

In my mind’s eye, I saw Jules walking to City Fields after volunteering at the local shelter. There was a protest going on against a police incident. The police were firing rubber bullets to disperse the crowd. One of them accidentally hit Jules in the side of the head. The internal bleeding and the brain hematoma overwhelmed Jules before he ever knew it. He had collapsed and died a few feet away from his car. He never made it home.

The cop who had come home with the news that would turn my life upside down, had said that Jules was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
I vaguely remember saying, “my husband had come to believe that there are very few places that are right for him in this country, officer,” before I blacked out.

“I should have been with you, Jules. I should have been more supportive,” I whispered. It would never happen again. And definitely not to a kid that Jules had mentored.

I threw down the city guide of Athens that I had been gripping in my hands as I opened the front door.
I strode out onto the front yard and into the driveway. Something crunched under my feet. 

“What’s the problem, officer?” I said in a voice that shook. I had to gather myself. Stop it, Celia.
Marcus and the officer looked at me in surprise.
“Ma’am, we are just checking this individual’s license, that’s all,” said the officer.
“Would you like to check mine too?” I said in a voice that was abnormally high. Stop it, Celia. By the way, where was my license? I had not driven a car in many years.
“No...no, that will not be necessary,” said the officer, who seemed taken aback. “You see, we had this report of someone looking suspicious entering this street and …”
“And you assumed that it was him?” I said gesturing to Marcus. I stopped to take a breath. My heart was beating rather fast.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that Marcus is African American and I am white?” I continued.
Marcus laughed. He had an honest laugh. 
Although he had been startled by me, the officer persisted.
“Ma’am, I am just following protocol. I don’t mean to cause any problems. I just want to ensure the safety of this neighborhood.”
“That’s ok, officer. You do what you have to do,” said Marcus with a sigh as he handed over his license.
The officer looked sheepish as he finished checking Marcus’ license. He apologized as he drove away. 

I was breathing with difficulty.
“I need to sit down,” I told Marcus. 
Something did not feel the same. I could feel the warm breeze against my face. I could see the trees down the street. What was crunching under my feet? Was that gravel?
And then it hit me.

Oh my God, I had stepped out of my house … on my own… onto the road.
I could talk back to Socrates tonight. I had crossed the threshold into the agora. 
And… and… I had accosted a police officer.
This was overwhelming.

 I felt weak. Someone held my hand and steadied me. It was Marcus. 
“Lets go inside and sit down,” he said hesitantly, but gently.

“No, no,” I said, as my breathing slowed down, “I’ve been inside forever. Let's stay here for a while.”
“Hey, how about we go for a walk? Mom says you never get out of the house?” said Marcus with a smile.
“And I’ll take care of the cops,” I added with a small laugh as things came back into focus. 

Marcus laughed his honest laugh.
We started walking. 
“I am so...so sorry that had to happen to you,” I began. “It's unfair.  We need changes. We really need to examine our lives,” I continued. “You know, this philosopher...Socrates, he once said...an unexamined life ...”
“Is not worth living?” Marcus completed the sentence for me. 
“Mr Julian used to tell me that all the time,” he continued wistfully. “Maybe it's time we put it to use?”

The gravel crunched under my feet as I strolled down the street with Marcus. It was time to get rid of the past and look forward to the future. That was the new dream. It had taken me so long to examine my life and make my decision. It was definitely time for the world to examine its soul as well. When would it do that?

Tomorrow was May 25, 2020. It would be eight years since my Jules had died.

He was African American.