I hated the itching, but I didn't mind the swelling

The coughing and laryngitis were my first clues that it was that time of year again--time for another Splotchy story virus outbreak. I guess that booster shot I got was worthless.

Here are Splotch's rules:
Here's what I would like to do. I want to create a story that branches out in a variety of different, unexpected ways. I don't know how realistic it is, but that's what I'm aiming for. Hopefully, at least one thread of the story can make a decent number of hops before it dies out.

If you are one of the carriers of this story virus (i.e. you have been tagged and choose to contribute to it), you will have one responsibility, in addition to contributing your own piece of the story: you will have to tag at least one person that continues your story thread. So, say you tag five people. If four people decide to not participate, it's okay, as long as the fifth one does. And if all five participate, well that's five interesting threads the story spins off into.

Not a requirement, but something your readers would appreciate: to help people trace your own particular thread of the narrative, it will be helpful if you include links to the chapters preceding yours.

So here's the thread that Splotchy coughed up, which was then caught via a germ-covered doorknob by Freida Bee, who then sneezed it onto me:
The Apple
The bus was more crowded than usual. It was bitterly cold outside, and I hadn't prepared for it. I noticed that a fair number of the riders were dressed curiously. As I glanced around, I stretched my feet and kicked up against a large, heavy cardboard box laying under the seat in front of me. (Splotchy)
I couldn't believe my eyes. Surrepticiously, I tried to establish, without giving it away, if anyone else had seen what I had. For ten years I had been looking for that box. What looked like an ordinary cardboard box to most contained something most precious. Only by the small golden "P" was I able to identify what I was looking at. (Freida Bee)
How the box got here, or how I happened to be on this bus with it now--these questions were immaterial. I just had to get that box. The bus slowed to a stop, so I steadied myself. Just as I was about to make a grab for the box, however, it moved. Someone else was picking it up to take it away! I had to stop her!
- - - - -
Never one to be stingy with my things, I'd like to share this viral strain with the following lucky hosts:
Jess Wundrun
Bubs at the Sprawling Ramshackle Compound
getKRISTIlove at Two Minutes in the Box
Dr Zaius at Zaius Nation

Sniffle cough-cough snort,
DGuzman.