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The Jakarta Pandemic

Page 18

by Steven Konkoly


  Poor George forgot to op check the system. He glanced at his watch. And now the meeting is two minutes late. George is going to pay for this. He chuckled to himself.

  “I don’t see any Cheetos,” Alex remarked, still examining the crowd.

  “I have a pack of gum in my pocket,” Ed said.

  “Is it sugarless?”

  “Probably,” Ed replied.

  “You can keep it. No nutritional value. You’ll burn up more calories chewing it,” he said, smiling wryly at Ed.

  “Speaking of calories, she looks like she could use a few,” Ed said, looking at Nicole Bartlett, who was moving in their direction, handing a sheet of paper to everyone in the crowd. As she approached, he noticed that Laura Burton had just finished taping sheets of paper to the card table in front of Sarah.

  Sign-up sheets, maybe?

  Nicole reached the three of them.

  “Hey, Nicki,” Alex said, bracing for her excessive perkiness.

  “Hey, guys. Thanks for coming to the meeting. This is an agenda and some topic ideas. You can also take notes on it. Did you bring any pens?” she asked, handing a sheet to Ed and Derek.

  “No, I didn’t think we’d need pens,” Ed offered, as Alex politely declined one of her handouts.

  “No worries. We have some extras floating around, though you’ll probably have to share one. Good to see you guys. Hey, you might want to move up closer.”

  As she walked to the next group, Ed chimed in. “Jesus, she’s unbelievably skinny. She’d fit into a thirteen-year-old’s jeans.”

  “Get this. Ellen ran into her over at The Gap. Nicki was shopping with her daughter Taylor, and Ellen overheard a weird conversation. Nicki was absolutely distressed that she couldn’t fit into the same size blouse as Taylor. She heard Nicki say ‘give me a few months, and I’ll get into that.’ Sick if you ask me,” Derek said.

  “How old is her daughter?” Ed whispered.

  “She’s one grade ahead of Emily,” Alex said. “All Emily hears her talk about at school is her weight and her clothes fitting. She’s starting to give Emmy a complex.”

  “Emily’s ten, right?” Derek asked.

  “Yeah. Ten.”

  “That’s some sick shit, man.”

  “Well, I’ve heard a number of wives say that they think she looks great,” Ed said.

  “Yeah, well, there’s a lot of the anorexia going around the neighborhood, if you haven’t noticed. Look at Stephanie. I can barely tell her apart from Nicki,” Alex commented.

  “Yeah, it’s like Single White Female scary, looking at the two of them together,” Derek said.

  “Sam’s definitely noticed, and she’d like to figure out how to catch whatever they’ve got,” Ed said, laughing.

  “First she has to quit her job because if you look around, you’ll notice there’s a direct correlation between staying home and emaciation, which I don’t quite understand. I’ve spent plenty of days home with kids, and all I want to do on those days is eat,” Alex said.

  “I still haven’t recovered from the toddler years,” Ed laughed again, grabbing his slightly bulging stomach.

  “I saw your wedding photos, Ed, and I hate to break it to you, but…” Alex said, raising his shoulders and sporting a patronizing look.

  “Thanks. Hey, at least I didn’t deteriorate. Three kids,” he said, flexing his right arm in an overly dramatic muscle pose.

  Alex spotted Paul and Nancy Cooper in the back row of seats, with their chocolate lab Max.

  “Gentlemen, I’m gonna say hi to Paul and Nancy. Keep my spot in the back,” he said to Ed and Derek.

  Ed nodded, and Alex walked up behind the Coopers. Stephanie and Eric Bishop were seated next to the Coopers, and the Bishops’ kids, Hunter and Evan, were playing soccer with the other kids on the lawn. Hunter was in the same class as Emily, though Alex rarely heard her talk about him.

  “You didn’t bring me any snacks? How disappointing,” he said, laying his left hand on Paul’s shoulder. “But you did bring my good friend Max.”

  Both Paul and Nancy turned around as Alex kneeled down to hug Max. He wondered if hugging Max was such a good idea and briefly contemplated his chance of contracting the flu from contact with a domestic pet. He wasn’t really sure, but made a mental note to research the topic on the internet. Offhand, he couldn’t imagine any reason why the flu could not be transferred from a dog’s fur to his hand. He’d need to talk to Kate about her trips around the neighborhood, visiting every free roaming dog.

  “Hey, Alex. We weren’t sure you’d show up. Figured you’d be off limits by now,” Paul said.

  Alex stood up from petting Max. “Believe me, I tried to get out of it,” he replied, and Stephanie Bishop gave him a strained look. He returned a slightly less strained smile. “Hey, Stephanie, Eric.”

  “Why wouldn’t you want to be here?” she asked, annoyed.

  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for all of us to come together in one place, when there’s a highly contagious flu virus spreading around Scarborough,” he said softly, shrugging his shoulders.

  “I don’t think anyone’s going to catch the flu at this meeting,” Eric said. “The whole point of getting together is to figure out how we can all help each other.”

  “Sounds great, but the best way for us to help each other is to stay away from each other. Hey, I’ll catch you guys later,” he said to Paul and Nancy.

  “See ya, Alex,” they said in unison.

  Alex caught Paul’s glance. Paul made a face signaling that he had no idea why Eric and Stephanie had acted so oddly. Alex walked back to Derek and Ed, who were now joined by Jamie, Mary Thompson, and John Anderson. He saw a few stragglers—Dave Santos and Charlie Thornton—coming in from the north side of the loop. Charlie waved to Alex, and Alex returned the wave, smiling. Cuckoo guy. Alex stood next to Ed, glad that he didn’t have to actively evade Jamie, who was now wearing a black hooded winter jacket and a hat, but was still shivering.

  Probably has a fever.

  Derek was fidgeting and looked uncomfortable standing next to her.

  “Here comes Charlie,” Alex whispered to Ed.

  Ed glanced over at Charlie. “I think he’s going to stand by us. Have you talked to him lately?”

  “Not since he interrogated me by the woodpile. Nancy Cooper said she heard him ranting and raving in his driveway last week. Food issues. I guess neither of them could find the time to wait in line for groceries. I hope they figured out something. He might be the last person you’d want scouring the neighborhood for food in a bad mood,” Alex said quietly.

  “You know who else is a loose cannon? Todd. I’ve heard him screaming a lot lately. Screaming at his wife, kicking his car, knocking shit around his garage. Every day something’s going on over there,” Ed said.

  “Really? Jesus…hold on, here comes Charlie,” Alex whispered. “Hey, Charlie,” he said enthusiastically, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets.

  “Can you believe what’s going on in this country? Unreal if you ask me. I can’t believe the government let it get this bad. Food rationing?” Charlie ranted, his face turning red.

  “Take it easy, man, you’re gonna explode,” Alex said.

  “Take it easy? That’s the last thing any of us can afford to do. What do you think this little meeting’s all about?” he asked. Before anyone could respond, he continued. “I’ll bet this is an attempt at a little socialist share the wealth program…for those that haven’t done shit over the past few weeks.”

  He might be right.

  Charlie was in rare form, clearly pumped up on something.

  “Everybody, if you could grab a seat, or pull it in as tight as possible here, we’ll get this started,” Sarah Quinn said.

  Nicki Bartlett and Laura Burton quickly moved to stand near Sarah behind the folding table. The kids continued to play on the lawn as the adults not seated in the makeshift auditorium started to crowd both sides of the seating.

  Alex too
k a quick inventory of the group. He saw Michael McCarthy seated in the second row talking to Peter and Brenda Brady, who were sitting directly in front of them in the first row. Michael spent most of the week out of town, flying back and forth from New York and Atlanta, working onsite with a few large investment firms to troubleshoot and optimize their computer software. His wife Jennifer stayed at home with their three children: Ethan, who was in the same grade as Emily, and two younger girls, Hannah and Sophia. Alex wasn’t sure how old the girls were, only that their youngest, Sophia, had just started kindergarten.

  Standing next to the McCarthys was Michelle Hayes, who lived in the house between the Coopers’ and the Murrays’. Alex figured her husband, Ken, was home with their kids and wondered how Ken had managed to dodge this one. The Hayes’ had two younger kids, a boy and a girl, right around the same age as the McCarthys’ girls.

  From his quick glance around, he could tell that most households were represented. He couldn’t spot Phil or Julia Rhodes, which was odd, since he’d seen Phil grab the newspaper that morning. With two kids in college and one in high school, he couldn’t imagine why at least one of them wouldn’t be here.

  Then again, I don’t want to be here either.

  He saw that Sarah was ready to start the meeting.

  “Okay, everyone, we’re going to get this started. First of all, thank you for coming together at such short notice. We’ve always pulled together as a neighborhood in the past, so when Nicki found out that the Scarborough schools would be closed this week…”

  The group huddled on the Quinns’ driveway erupted into a cacophony of whispers.

  “Is that confirmed?” Todd asked incredulously.

  “Yes. One of Jack’s colleagues at the diabetes center is on the school board, and he confirmed that Friday was the last day,” Nicole answered.

  Sarah continued, “Anyway, Nicki called me right away to see what I was going to do with my kids during the week and to ask if she could help out. This got me thinking that everyone in the neighborhood is facing the same challenge. Most of us have school-aged kids, and few of us can afford to quit our jobs, when this might only last a few weeks.”

  Don’t count on it.

  “So we got together and started talking about the daycare issue. Then we realized that daycare wasn’t going to be the only problem out there. It’s no secret that the stores are rationing food, and who knows how long the food will last? Then we started reading the CDC website and found some links to articles about how essential services might be disrupted if things get really bad. Stuff like electricity, water, hospital service, phones, cable—”

  “The electricity isn’t going to fail. A lot of experts are saying that this whole thing is likely to pass in a few weeks,” Mike Lynch interrupted, who lived right across the street and one house toward Harrison Road.

  Mike was standing to the right of the driveway with Vicki and Tom Hodges, who were both nodding in agreement with Mike’s statement. The Hodges lived directly across the street from the Lynch’s, and the two families seemed tight to Alex, despite a large gulf in age between them. Mike and Katherine were in their early thirties with two toddlers, while Vicki and Tom appeared to be in their fifties, though Alex suspected they might be younger. Alex knew that the Hodges’ daughter, Anna, had just left in the fall for Boston College and that their son was still in high school. Mark and Beverly Silva from the house directly across the street were standing in the hostile group, but it was apparent that they weren’t comfortable with Mike’s statement.

  “What a fucking idiot,” Charlie whispered into Alex’s ear.

  I agree.

  “Well, the articles only mentioned that it could happen, but it didn’t go into any details,” Sarah said, looking to Laura for support.

  Jamie sneezed next to Derek, who glanced at Alex and Ed nervously. Alex could tell he wanted to move away from her, but he didn’t.

  “Hey, Sarah? May I say something about the electricity?” Alex offered.

  I can’t resist.

  “Thanks, Alex. Everyone, you all know Alex Fletcher,” she said, relieved.

  Every face in the crowd turned to look at Alex. Most still looked friendly, though he detected a strange underlying current in the group. He couldn’t determine the general aura of the group, but it made him immediately uncomfortable, which was not a common feeling for him.

  “Right. Anyway, so if the flu pandemic becomes widespread and attacks a large percentage of the population, then two things will happen. Either people will be unable to work because they’re sick or dead, or people will stop going to work because they don’t want to become sick or dead. It’s really that simple. This shortage of labor will affect every aspect of society, from policemen to doctors to truck drivers. If the trains can’t deliver coal to the electrical plants, then eventually the electrical system will fail. God knows it doesn’t take much to knock out one of those grids. And if a grid fails, who’s going to repair it? If the electricity fails, the water pressure is soon to follow. You can apply the same logic to nearly every essential service. They all run on electricity. Hell, if a storm knocks out the power in the middle of the pandemic, who’s going to repair the lines? They can barely get the power back up with a full workforce.”

  That’s enough.

  “Yeah, but don’t the power plants keep an emergency supply on hand for just this kind of a situation? Same with the water systems and cable companies. They all have backup power capability,” Mike challenged.

  “Sure they do. The power plants are required by law to maintain a six-week supply of coal on hand for emergencies; however, these laws are rarely enforced, and the recent audits put the average emergency reserve supply for a power plant at about one and a half weeks. Compliance at all other levels is pretty much the same. You can thank the current and previous administration for that one,” Alex said.

  Mike Lynch looked pissed at Alex’s comment about the administration, which didn’t surprise Alex, since the comment had been designed to push Mike’s rabid Republican buttons.

  “Thanks, Alex. So, the whole reason for us to get together is to figure out what challenges we might face, and how we can help each other out. Nicki has put together a few categories, and some sign-up sheets. Nicki?” Sarah said and handed her the microphone.

  Nicole Bartlett took the microphone from Sarah and stepped around the folding table. She was wearing a tight-fitting quilted pink vest, a white skin-tight long-sleeve turtleneck, and a thin light purple knit cap with a pink tassel falling to the left side. Completing her look was a pair of skin-hugging dark blue jeans, which Alex had seen before in the youth pages of the latest LL Bean catalogue. Certainly well put together, but completely inappropriate for a forty-year-old woman. Nicole started to address the group in a tone appropriate for a room of elementary school kids.

  “Okay, I’m going to get started on my little portion. Thank you all again for braving the cold weather,” she said, executing a fake shiver.

  Kate is going to pay for this.

  “So, what I have done is put together some categories where we can all help out. I’ve made sign-up lists for each one, and if we come up with any more categories, I’ll make another list.

  “First, I think it would be awesome if everyone could update their contact information. You don’t have to do it here. You can send me an email with your home and cell phone numbers. My email address is on the sheet I handed out. The phone list I have is a few years old, and we have some new neighbors, so it’s important for everyone to update this. Please make sure you put your cell phones on the list, too, in case the power goes out. I know a lot of us have digital phone service, which is useless without the power.

  “All right, the first issue which many of us will face is daycare. Most of us will have to make alternate daycare arrangements or take time off from work,” she said in a tone indicating that she might be in that same position.

  “Why did she say that like she’ll be needing daycare, too? S
he doesn’t work,” Alex whispered to Ed.

  “Probably because she’s always had her kids in daycare, preschool, or public school. She had her first two kids in daycare at least three full days a week before they started school. Same thing with Grace. She keeps them in all day programs during most of the school breaks and the summer,” Ed whispered back.

  “Wow, she’s a piece of work. Kate’s going to love this.”

  “So, the daycare list is for both those who will need daycare and those who will be home and can help provide daycare services for their neighbors. Please fill in the times you need covered, how many kids, anything like that. If you can open up your home to help, please note your availability. Once we get all of the names and information, we’ll put them together and try to find matches. We can even use this information in case someone in your family gets the flu, and you need to leave the house to take that person to get treatment. That way, you don’t have to drag the entire family out where they could get sick.”

  Are you shitting me?

  Alex surveyed the crowd and saw that the idea was popular, which didn’t surprise him considering the number of dual-income families in the neighborhood. He shook his head and leaned over to Ed. “So, are you going to volunteer to watch Jamie’s kids while she takes her flu- ridden husband to the hospital? Or let your kids stay at Jamie’s while you head out to the office? This has bad idea written all over it,” he whispered.

  “I agree,” Ed responded.

  “The next list is for volunteers to take sick people to doctor’s appointments or the hospital. If both parents are sick and a child needs to be seen by a doctor, volunteers from this list would help out,” she said, smiling.

  “This is right from the manual of how to guarantee a 100% infection rate in your neighborhood,” Alex whispered to Ed, who let out a loud guffaw, snorted, and quickly contained himself.

  Several heads turned in their direction, including Stephanie Bishop, who shook her head and frowned, and turned to say something to her husband. Eric Bishop looked back at them, also frowning.

 

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