Face of the Earth

by Doug Raber

  “Uh huh.”

  “Let’s get your shirt off. There, that’s good. You’re a very good patient, Jackson. I wish all the children that came in here were as cooperative and nice as you are. You know what? I’ve seen this before, and I don’t think you have too much to worry about.”

  “What is it Dr. Parker?”

  “You don’t remember, do you Evie? You had it when you were a kid. Chickenpox. The headache and fever, then the rash and the lesions? It used to be that almost all kids would get it. But the vaccinations have really cut down on chickenpox.* I’m a little surprised that Jackson has it now, because he got his MMRV shot last year. Some children who are vaccinated still get it but it’s usually a mild case.”

  “Do we need to keep him at home? I mean, to protect the other children?”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. In fact, it might be a good thing if they caught it now. It’s a lot better to have the virus for the first time as a child than as an adult. Before the vaccine, it was pretty common to have what people called a ‘pox party.’ That way, all the children would contract chickenpox, and they would have protection against the more serious adult illness.”

  “What about medicine? Can you do anything to make him feel better?”

  “There are some things we can do that will make you feel a lot better, Jackson. First of all, some acetaminophen to help with the aches and fever. And then some lotion to help with the itching. You’re probably going to be itchy a lot for a couple of days, Jackson, and it’s really important that you try not to scratch. That will be hard, but I know you’re a strong young boy and you can do it. And your mom and dad will help, too. Baths are also good to help the itching, and in case it gets really bad, I’m going to give your mom some sample packets of antihistamines. We’ll have you as good as new in no time at all.”

  “You be a good boy for your mom, Jackson. And Evie, please say hello to Jack for me. And don’t worry, little Jackson is going to be all better in just a few days.”

  * * *

  Chapter 3

  Sarah

  In the past seven years, the federal government has spent more than $57 billion to shore up the nation’s bioterrorism defenses, stockpiling drugs, ringing more than 30 American cities in a network of detectors and boosting preparedness at hospitals. The result: modest gains, at best …

  —Washington Post, 2008‡

  Day 22: A Call from the West

  “Sarah Lockford.” The newsroom of the Washington Post was so loud she had a hard time hearing who was on the phone.

  “Sarah, it’s Jillian.” The connection was bad. “Can you talk?”

  Sarah scanned the ring of offices and small conference rooms that surrounded the bullpen. She saw one that was empty. “Jillian, it’s too noisy here, and you’re breaking up. I’m heading over to a conference room. Call back there, okay? Extension 7307.” It was the day before Thanksgiving, and Sarah was excited to chat with her old college friend.

  The phone in 307 was ringing as she entered. “What’s up, Jillian? Happy Thanksgiving!”

  Silence

  “Jillian, how are you?”

  “Something’s wrong. I don’t know what to do. One of the kids at school—his mother is a teacher’s aide—the kid had a really bad case of chickenpox, and he died. Now some other kids are getting it too.”

  “God, Jillian, that’s horrible. I knew that normal childhood diseases can be awful. One of the kids in my neighborhood almost died from the measles when we were little. I’m really sorry about the child in your school.”

  “You don’t understand. It’s not just one child. There are others, and they seem to be the worst cases of chickenpox that any of us have ever seen. But that’s not all. A bunch of people who look like cops just showed up. They’re armed, Sarah. And they’re telling us that we can’t leave. We’re being quarantined.”

  Sarah felt her calm begin to dissolve. “Let me do some checking on this. Can I call you back tomorrow? Even better, why don’t you call me again tomorrow? Here in the conference room. This same number. Could you manage that?”

  “Sarah, I’m scared.”

  “I know. I’ll find out what I can and let you know what’s going on. Tomorrow. You call me. Okay? Jillian? Are you crying?”

  “I’m really, really scared. I’ll call tomorrow.”

  As soon as Jillian hung up, Sarah dialed Jake Overman’s number at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta. If anyone could tell her about chickenpox or medical quarantines, it was Jake.

  She waited impatiently while Jake’s phone rang a half dozen times. It was 4:30. Why the hell doesn’t he pick up? He told me two weeks ago that he wasn’t going anywhere for Thanksgiving. The last few times they spoke, it sounded like Jake was almost living at his office, working such long days that he hardly seemed to need his condo anymore.

  Finally, after the seventh ring the line clicked, and a female voice said “BPR. May I help you?”

  Sarah hesitated. “I’m trying to reach Dr. Overman.” Sarah was confused, because Jake always answered his own phone or used voicemail. And she didn’t recognize ‘BPR.’ Jake worked in the Division of Emerging Infections and Surveillance Services, devising strategies for identifying and controlling disease, and he hadn’t said anything about changing jobs.

  “I’m sorry. He’s not available. Your name please?”

  “He and I worked together before he joined the CDC. I need his input on a snag I just hit in my research. Can you tell me when he’ll be back?”

  “I can’t give out that information.” The reply was as chilly as it was officious. “Give me your name and number, and I’ll ask him to return your call.”

  “I’ll just try calling him later,” she said and hung up.

  Sarah headed back to her desk in the bullpen and typed her password into her computer. Her Web browser was already launched, and a moment later she was on the CDC website. There was the new set of letters: Division of Bioterrorism Preparedness and Response (DBPR). “Weird,” she said aloud. Then silently, He’s never said anything about bioterrorism.

  Deciding that she’d been taken sufficiently off task, Sarah logged off her computer, threw a few papers into her bag, and headed out of the building. On the short walk down 15th Street to the McPherson Square Metro Station, she pulled out her cell phone and called Jake’s cell. After a moment, a tinny voice announced, “The number you are trying to reach is not available at this time.”

  Now Sarah was irritated. She’d never had trouble getting Jake on the phone. Everything that had happened that afternoon was weird, and she didn’t like it. She dropped the phone back into her bag.

  Damn! I promised Jillian I’d call her back tomorrow, and Jake would know what to tell her. Maybe this won’t be on the front page in Washington, but it sure as hell is a big deal in New Mexico. What the hell is going on?

  * * *

  Day 22: Sarah and Jillian

  Jillian and Sarah became fast friends when they met as freshmen at William & Mary. They roomed together for the next three years, and their friendship remained strong despite their different career paths.

  Sarah went on to graduate school in the molecular biology program at the University of Virginia, where Jake Overman was in the fourth year of his Ph.D. in the same department. Despite their attempts to be discreet, it wasn’t long before their romantic involvement was the best known secret on campus.

  After getting her degree in biology, Jillian was accepted into the Teach for America program and was sent to New Mexico to teach on the Navajo Reservation. When she finished her stint with “The Corps,” she decided to stay in Farmington, in the northwest corner of New Mexico. It was just a few miles from the only place in America where four states converge at a single point. This intersection of Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah gives the entire area its nickname. Jillian found it a strange and wonderful place.

  She signed on to teach at Apache Elementary School, and she arrived with a sunny outlook.
There were many challenges and many obstacles, but she always tried to see them as opportunities.

  Not until the past few days had Jillian ever been unhappy with life there. The child’s death had devastated the community, and the entire staff at Apache were scared to death that their kids might be next. At least four other children had come down with bad cases of chickenpox, and she’d heard that a couple of adults had caught it as well. She desperately hoped that Sarah would have some information for her the next day.

  * * *

  Day 22: Where’s Jake?

  Sarah lived in Arlington, Virginia, just across the Potomac River from D.C. She had a gorgeous view of the nation’s capital from her 12th floor apartment. From her balcony, she could see the Lincoln Memorial, the Reflecting Pool, the Washington Monument, and finally, in the distance, the Capitol.

  As soon as she got home, she dropped her bag in a chair and called Jake’s CDC number again. After five rings, he hadn’t answered, so she tried his cell phone, expecting that he’d pick up after regular working hours. Instead she immediately got the same recorded message. Damn! Where has he gone?

  She made a grilled cheese sandwich and heated a cup of tomato soup. Halfway through the sandwich, she suddenly realized that she’d missed an obvious answer—call his housemate.

  For the past two years, Jake had been sharing his condo with Charles Evans, an assistant professor of public health at Emory University. The two met through a mutual friend when Charles had interviewed for his faculty position. They’d hit it off, and when Charles was hired, Jake took him on as a renter.

  The condo had two large bedrooms, a guest room, and an office area that they shared. Both men spent long days at work, and their modest social schedules didn’t lead to conflicts. If either of them were having friends over, the other was always welcome. Financially, it was a great deal for both of them.

  Sarah had first met Charles at a meeting of the American Epidemiological Society, and the trio had hung out when she had been in Atlanta for long weekends with Jake.

  She looked up Charles’s number in her contacts file, recalling that he had a separate phone line at the condo. He answered on the third ring and sounded delighted to hear from Sarah. “God, I haven’t seen you in nearly a year. What’s up? Are you coming in for a visit? Jake’s not here, but I guess you probably know that or you would have called him rather than me.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m calling. I’ve been trying to reach him all day, but I couldn’t get him at his office or on his cell. He picks up his cell unless he’s in the middle of a meeting.”

  “Hmmm.” It was more of a grunt than a word. “I know he’s off on a trip, but he didn’t say where. Did you try leaving a message on his voicemail at the office?”

  “I tried, but after the phone rang a few times, a woman picked up and just said he was unavailable. She wouldn’t tell me anything else, and she wasn’t particularly friendly. I don’t know, maybe ‘snotty’ is the right word. It kind of bugged me.”

  “That’s odd. He always takes such pride in answering his own phone and leaving a personalized voicemail message when he’s on travel. But he was in one hell of a hurry when he left yesterday. We were supposed to meet up for dinner last night, but he showed up at about 5:30 and fired right into his room to pack. He said he needed go out of town on business for a few days.”

  “Where?”

  “Don’t know. When I asked him where he was going, he just said it wasn’t anyplace glamorous. He was back out the door with a suitcase in 10 minutes.”

  “I wish he had stayed in contact. I had a question that I was hoping he could answer.”

  “Maybe I could help.”

  “You probably could. I guess I wasn’t thinking. Okay, here’s the deal. I got a call from an old friend out in New Mexico who teaches in a school on the edge of the Navajo Reservation. She was totally freaked out that one of the kids—the child of one of the other teachers—came down with chickenpox and died. And she said that other kids are really sick, some of the adults too. Then she said that a military unit had swooped in, and they were cordoning off the whole area.”

  “Wow! Military? Anyway, an outbreak of chickenpox isn’t that unusual Sarah. Especially since some parents haven’t vaccinated their children in the past few years. And some of the chickenpox strains can be bad. I don’t have the statistics at my fingertips, but there are still a number of deaths every year. I’d have to check into this to get better answers, though. Childhood diseases are outside my research area, and I haven’t looked at those stats since grad school.”

  “What about the idea that they’re being quarantined? I haven’t heard of anything like that happening during my lifetime—and certainly not since I’ve been reporting on this kind of stuff.”

  “That is weird. I’ll put in a few queries in the morning. Some of my colleagues will be in the lab for a couple of hours, even on Thanksgiving. If your friend is right, this might make a good story for you. Give me a call after ten, and we’ll see if there’s anything to it. Realistically, it’s probably nothing. Usually these common diseases don’t lead to serious epidemics.”

  “Thanks, Charles. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Give me your office number again.”

  Sarah wrote it down on her notepad. She never went anywhere without a small spiral notebook in her pocket, and the stash of old notebooks in her desk drawer contained a wealth of old phone numbers, many of which never made it into her computer files.

  * * *

  Chapter 4

  Redhouse

  A growing number of New York parents are scheduling chicken pox playdates where kids share lollipops and trade germy pajamas to spread the disease and avoid vaccinations.

  —New York Post, 2009‡

  Day 12: Pox Party

  When Evelyn and Jackson got home, Jack was already there.

  “We closed the job site down early. There was some snow, and it was icing up. Colder than usual for this time of year. I don’t think the guys were real happy, losing a day’s wages and all. But I had to make that decision. It wasn’t safe out there. Too bad, though. We kinda need the money too.”

  Evelyn hugged him. “It’s okay, Jack. We’ll manage. And Jackson will be okay, too. Dr. Parker said he has chickenpox, but he should be over it in a few more days. He’ll be uncomfortable, but I got some medicine. And Dr. Parker said that baths would help, too.”

  “They would, huh? How about it big fella? Would you like to get into the bathtub? And maybe start to feel better?”

  “Uh huh. You too, Daddy?”

  “Well, I’ll give you a bath, but I’m not gonna take one. This’ll be special, just for you. C’mon let’s get you undressed.”

  In a few minutes, Evelyn joined them in the bathroom, where Jackson was playing with one of his bath toys. “You’re looking a whole lot better now, Jackson.”

  “Yes. Better.” It sounded more like “butter.”

  “Evie, what should we do about Jackson’s birthday party? The other kids are supposed to come over tomorrow. Maybe put it off until next week? It would only be a few days after his actual birthday on Tuesday.”

  “Bffday?”

  “Oh, gosh. I forgot all about it. We already ordered the cake, Jack. It’s got writing and everything, so they’ll charge us even if we don’t have the party.”

  “Yeah, but we can’t just expose the other kids to this.”

  “Dr. Parker said Jackson only has a mild case, because he was vaccinated. And he told me it’s not a problem for the other kids. He said that before the vaccines, people would have special parties to expose all the other children on purpose. That it’s much better to get it when you’re a kid.”

  “Well, maybe. But you have to talk to the other moms, Evie. If they agree, we could go ahead. What about it, son? Do you still want to have a birthday party tomorrow?”

  “Uh huh. Bffday potty.”

  They tried not to laugh, but they weren’t very successful. Evelyn just leaned over the tub
and gave Jackson a big kiss.

  The other parents thought the party was a good idea, especially when Evelyn explained what Dr. Parker had said.

  The birthday chickenpox party was a big success. There were four other children, ranging in age from one to five, from two other families. Jimmy and Stacey Shepherd brought Ethan and Emily, and Shannon Apachito brought Ryan, Rebecca, and Sienna. The children all had great fun playing and eating cake. Jackson seemed to think that the two candles on the cake were just the greatest thing ever, and he really knew he was special when everybody sang to him.

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  Sarah

  ‘The vaccine has reduced infections in every age group, including among babies under 1 year old, who are too young to be vaccinated,’ says study author Jane Seward of the CDC’s National Center for Immunizations and Respiratory Diseases.

  —USA TODAY, 2008‡

  Day 23: Varicella Numbers

  Sarah woke early the next morning and went for a run. The exercise was a great stress buster, and there wasn’t a better place for running and biking than where she lived. A network of bicycle paths went across the Potomac into the District, and there were even longer trails on the Virginia side of the river.

  The 20-mile trail down to Mount Vernon was only a few blocks from her apartment. National Airport was only a couple of miles downriver, with views that Sarah thought were unmatched anywhere in the world. She was fond of telling people, “The river is beautiful, and there’s nowhere else that you can look around while you’re running and see the Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument, the whole city of Washington, D.C.”

  On this morning, Sarah decided instead to run on the Martha Custis trail. After going north several blocks from her apartment, she entered the trail and headed west. The hills and overall uphill climb for 20 minutes were a good workout. The return trip was a little easier, and she didn’t need to push as hard to finish a total of five miles in just under 40 minutes.