Introduction -

In the '80's there was a kind of mass hysteria based on a misconception about what we now know as the HIV virus. The thing was, no one knew how it was transmitted, so many people were needlessly germaphobic. 'Don't shake a gay man's hand, and God help you if one sneezes on you,' many were admonished. It was ridiculous in hindsight, but one of those rare urban legends that have caught my imagination.

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"So what's your favorite, James?" She framed the two cellophane packages of popcorn against each breast, moving each one while reciting, in turn: "Do you like it sweet… or salty?" Throwing her head back, she laughed, more to relieve her own nervousness than anything. James found himself with a smile growing reluctantly across his face. Where the hell did I find this one? Nodding his head offhandedly in her direction he drawled: "Well now, I think I'd like it sweet… and then salty, baby."

Janie laughed and leaned over the table, letting the popcorn bags fall. Both of her eyebrows lifted in feigned schoolgirl surprise. Holding her cheeks with each hand, she crinkled her brow, her mouth forming a small 'o.' "Well, my parents always told me not to talk to strangers, but then again...my parents aren't home right now." They stared at each other with intoxicated smiles on their faces. Janie felt her mind was besotted, like thick syrup. Don't just stand there like an idiot, she told herself. Get moving!

Grabbing the bags of popcorn, she cocked an eyebrow and turned, pivoting on her black heels. She'd caught his eyes moving up her body, taking her all in. Her smile turned sideways now, as she plopped the bags down onto the counter. Her excitement was bubbling over; she was feeling her heart beat steadily faster in her chest.

Would he notice me acting nervous? I wouldn't want to look stupid. Janie had always felt like a little kid in front of him. After all, he'd been a senior when she was a freshman. After they'd finally met, she'd asked him: "don't you recognize me?" He'd put on that confused cute face and she had let it go. How would he remember such an awkward girl like me?

She felt a fine sheen of sweat begin to build above her brow. James is here, with you now! She tried on a casual voice and called to him over her shoulder: "Hey, you wanna get the movie started while I get the popcorn?" She needed a break; she was out of breath. God, I hope I don't do something stupid, like trip in these goddamned heels.

Janie didn't turn to watch him stride away, but she could still feel his eyes hovering over her. This dress feels so good, she thought, as she brushed down the fabric. The silky feel of it felt cool and clingy next to her skin. She liked how it looked on her: the shape of it hugging the curve of her slender back as it went down to end at her milky white thighs. She concealed her smile, listening to his boots on the hardwood floor, moving into the darkness of the living room. Blinking her eyes hard, she sighed as she began ripping the plastic wrapper off. Had he said that he wanted the kettle corn, or the extra butter? Oh well, we probably won't even end up eating much of it.

A laugh lept from her throat and her eyebrows rose in shock. The name on the bag of popcorn read: "Lucky Time Popcorn." You got that right. Hopefully I'll be getting lucky tonight. Chuckling to herself, she flung a popcorn bag into the microwave.

On the couch, Janie's nerves would only allow her to focus on the TV. She was afraid of taking her eyes off of it. He looks and acts so relaxed… he must think I'm a basket case. Janie wanted to reach out, to touch him; instead, her hands lay motionless atop her lap. Why am I so afraid of this guy? She cursed herself as she tucked a leg under her; getting comfortable. When she reached for the popcorn, her hand touched his in the bowl. For a moment, she recoiled, but he went back to grab her hand. He moved the popcorn bowl onto the side table, turning before placing it down. Before he could fully turn back to her she shoved her hips up to his, and took his face in her hands. HIs hand slipped under her shirt as they kissed, their faces silhouetted before the T.V.'s haze.

Sometime during their lovemaking, the movie had stopped. Through a dark haze, her consciousness barely registered the sound of the videotape catching and rewinding automatically in the player. Her only remaining sense, in the darkness, was her own experience of eddying pleasure. The darkness blotted out everything else, until there were only gasps to be heard occasionally from them. She rode out the night through a wave of pleasure, losing herself in the weighty lust of sex. Her eyes shut, her own pleasure blended into unconsciousness like an opiate, flooding her veins with sleep.

She jumped when she awoke and realized she was naked on the living room floor. The room was occupied with a thick darkness that she blinked against, straining to see. As she waited for her eyes to adjust, she stretched out on the ground, wondering: how did we end up on the floor?

Her stomach groaned in response. She was hungry.

The kitchen, she thought, remembering the other bag of un-popped popcorn lying on the counter. She lay on the floor, trying to concentrate on the cracks in the ceiling she knew were there, but couldn't see. Although she couldn't see, she could still smell the clingy, buttery smell of popcorn in the air. She gulped back the pool of saliva standing in the back of her throat as her stomach growled again. When her eyes adjusted a little better, she pushed herself up, groaning through newly sore muscles.

Standing, she noticed a shape on the floor and immediately recognized it to be James. Better try not to wake him. She stepped over him,squinting into the darkness. Wiggling her fingers around in front of her, she began to feel for the table, not wanting to smack into it. She glided over the cold linoleum now, towards the microwave. Her belly grumbled again in anticipation. She was hungry.

Snacking on the hot popcorn, she shuffled back in to the front room. The microwave's clock in the kitchen blinked a lurid green light onto the unconscious James on the floor. She noticed with amusement that he was naked and still had his boots on.

Laughing to herself, she set the popcorn bowl down and crawled over the shag carpet to the T.V. As the T.V powered on, she kept her finger pressed onto the left volume button, looking back warily at James. She juggled the different stations until she came to a late night, black & white movie. When she was settled back on the couch, she glanced over at James and let out a big sigh, eating her popcorn.

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The light streaming through the drapes assaulted her blinking eyes as she awoke on the couch. She shielded her face as her eyes adjusted, blinking against the light. Then she remembered.

Glancing down towards the floor, she saw that James wasn't lying there naked, like she'd seen him last. She felt a pang of sadness that was soon replaced with the memory of the sex they'd had. Her hand moved between her legs and she cupped her sex, eyes rolling back as she stretched out like a cat. She sighed heavily before picking herself up off of the couch, supressing a yawn with her fist. Oh God, I need some coffee. Peeking outside, her hand moved the curtain back while her other hand shielded the sun.

No truck…well, what did you expect, a dozen red roses and a poem? She frowned at herself. What if he never calls? He knows everyone in town...shit. I hope he doesn't tell all his friends.

And what if I get pregnant? What then? She could feel the adrenaline running hot in her veins. Janie crouched over, cradling her stomach with care. She had an intense urge to turn and puke on the floor.

She tried to control it by taking small breaths, a mist of tears clouding her clenched eyelids. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath as the nausea passed. Poking the TV's red power button, she held the volume button until it was loud enough. There, better. She turned towards the bathroom, rubbing her neck; trying to gauge how sore she was going to be.

Janie didn't bother to wipe as she stood up from the toilet. She stepped right into the shower, relishing the warm, and then steaming water already coming from the hot spray. She wanted was to wipe away any memory of the past night. The water had to be scalding, to completely disinfect her from her own dirtiness.

Reaching down to twist the knob even further, Janie noticed a bloody smudge on the chrome handle.

Staring down at it, she froze and wrinkled her brow in confusion. What in the hell? She looked at her other hand, which also had blood painting its fingertips. Grabbing the overhead nozzle, she directed it onto the knobs while she rubbed the blood off. The blood on her hands came off as well and she watched it swirl down the drain. Not much blood, but where did it come from? She checked her arms and hands, the hot spray pounding down on her chest. I don't think I'm cut, either. She gave up when she didn’t see anything, and twisted the silver knobs. Quickly toweling off, she stepped into her cotton robe hanging on the back of the door.

On the way to her room she glanced at the TV and saw the newscaster's serious face. She caught the words: "…Lucky Time Popcorn..." and stopped in her tracks. She crooked her head to the side as she watched the TV. "...was sold during this time, but we implore you, please do not eat any popcorn that you may have bought within the last month, repeat, do not eat any 'Lucky time' microwave packages as they are being quarantined"

Janie's eyes glanced over at the empty metal popcorn bowl perched on the side table. There was a long, crusty drip that had dried onto the side of it. She looked at her hands in confusion.

"…According to detectives on the case, Jefferies had injected his own blood into packets of 'kettle corn' produced by the company. Apparently, he was a disgruntled former employee of the popcorn manufacturer. He had injected his own AIDS infected blood into the popcorn in an effort to poison as many consumers as he could. Again, I repeat: if you have recently consumed this product get yourself to a doctor: you may be infected with the AIDS virus. We still don't know how many people have been infected, but authorities have contacted..."

Leaving wet footsteps behind her, Janie walked on stilted legs toward the kitchen. On the way there, she saw what remained in the metal popcorn bowl on the table. There were splashes of crimson gore coating the bottom of it. That's what was on my hands in the shower. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand and tasted copper when she pulled her hand away. She licked her lip and tasted blood again. I had it on my face too? No, It can't...Please, this can't be happening. She felt a wave of panic wash over her from head to toe like a burning wind.

Shuffling across the linoleum floor, she made her way to the microwave. Punching the 'open' button with her index finger, the door swung open with a creak. Her eyes grew larger as she saw what lay inside. Grabbing her own hair, she shook it back and forth as she began to sob. As she sank to the cold floor of the kitchen, her sobs rose into a crescendo of screams.

In the microwave, on the clear glass carousel, lay a thick pool of congealing blood. Janie was infected.