Influenza: Viral Virulence

by Ohliger, Steven

  “No,” Michael answered, a little confused.

  “Okay,” Wilbur said, still holding the door. “I want you to go home.”

  “What?” Michael exclaimed. “But I’m not sick.”

  “Exactly. This pharmacy is a hotbed of germs. Like in the hospitals and doctors’ offices, most of the customers who come in here are sick. You know that. We’re on the front line in a war against germs, and ultimately, we’re the first to be exposed.” Wilbur turned his head away and coughed into his mask. Turning back to Michael, he continued. “If you are feeling well, I don’t want you working here and getting sick. I’m already not feeling well. I want you to go home. It’s for your own good. I don’t want you catching anything from me or the customers.”

  Michael stood there stunned.

  “Go!” Wilbur coughed once again and started closing the door. Before the door was completely closed, he turned back to Michael. “Go get some masks and gloves from aisle seven before you leave. And remember to always, always wash your hands after touching anything that someone else has touched. You can come back to work next week when this has all blown over.”

  He closed the door, leaving Michael standing there, momentarily stunned. Michael blinked and then slowly turned around. Walking down the aisle, he found the gloves he had been looking for in the grocery store yesterday. There were only two boxes left. Getting both, he noticed that the masks were almost sold out. Fortunately, he already had some at home.

  Stopping by the cooler to grab a soda, he looked around at the customers in the store. Thanks to Janice, they were all wearing masks. However, some were sneezing and coughing. No wonder Wilbur was getting sick. He should have taken the day off himself, but he was a trooper. He’d be there helping other people even if he was half dead. That was just the type of person he was.

  Michael felt a twinge of guilt and thought about returning to the pharmacy and talking Wilbur into letting him help. But Michael knew Wilbur. He was a stubborn man and was more concerned about Michael’s safety than his own. He’d never let Michael through that door.

  As Michael paid Janice for his purchases, he heard her sneeze. “Take care of that cold, will you, Janice?”

  “Nothing that a little chicken soup won’t take care of,” she said, smiling at Michael under the mask. “Now get out of here before you catch something too!”

  Michael left with a heavy heart.

  Walking along the sidewalk on his long journey toward the garage to get his truck, Michael keyed in Lorie’s cell number. Something seemed to be wrong with the reception, because he only got a fast busy signal. After multiple attempts with the same results, he keyed in the phone number for the sorority house landline.

  At the same time that Michael and his friends had joined the fraternity, Lorie had joined one of the sororities. While his fraternity house was located just a little off campus, Lorie’s sorority house was one of the few that were on campus. He didn’t know the exact rules of her sorority, but his fraternity required that all new members must live in the fraternity house for the first year. Michael and his friends had conformed and lived in the fraternity house for one year. After their obligatory year was up, they moved out of the house and into their current apartment.

  Lorie, on the other hand, had decided to stay in her sorority house. She said she liked living there. She also enjoyed helping some of the younger girls adjust as they transitioned from living at home to college life. Lorie was like a mother hen. Michael smiled to himself. He’d better not ever call her that if he wanted to remain her friend.

  At the sorority house, someone eventually answered the phone. A girl’s voice that Michael didn’t recognize asked him to hold while she found Lorie. After a little while, Lorie came to the phone.

  “Michael?”

  “Hey, Lorie. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m feeling fine. But a few girls seem to be feeling under the weather. Do you think the flu has gotten here this quickly?”

  “I’m not sure. It seems way too quick to have spread this far, this fast. But I think many people are showing signs of the beginning stages. I just left the pharmacy, and a lot of people are sick. But this still seems too soon for the flu virus to have made its way here from California.”

  “The little bits and pieces of news on the TV are starting to scare me. Have you been watching?” she asked.

  “No, believe it or not. I’ve had almost no time to see the news. I’m on my way to pick up my truck now. After that, I need to call my parents and see how they’re doing.”

  “I just talked with my parents. They’re really worried about me. They want me to come home. They even offered to come pick me up. I told them I can’t miss classes now. They’d probably flunk me if I missed this week. I don’t want to risk it on my last year. Some of the other girls are packing up and leaving for home. I hope the school will allow them to make up the work.”

  “Have you seen the signs the college posted?” Michael asked.

  “Yeah, kind of weird, isn’t it?”

  “If you decide not to go home now, I want you to promise me something.”

  “What?” Lorie asked.

  “I need you to be very careful. Do not go near the sick girls…”

  “I have to help them,” she cut in.

  “I knew you’d say that. Promise me you’ll try to minimize contact. And always wash and disinfect your hands after being near them…after being near anyone, whether or not they seem to be sick. Every time you touch a doorknob that anyone else has touched, you need to wash your hands. If you have gloves and a mask, wear them.”

  “Oh, that will look sexy,” she said.

  “Lorie, I’m not joking.”

  “Michael, you’re starting to scare me.”

  “Good, I’m a little scared myself,” he said. “If you can, just stay in your room as much as possible until this blows over. Avoid contact with people, and avoid common living areas.”

  “Do you think I should let my parents come pick me up?” she asked him.

  “That decision is completely up to you. I’m planning to go home sometime soon. I really don’t know when yet. A lot of my decisions will hinge on what I learn watching the news tonight.”

  “Well, let me know what you decide. Maybe I’ll come with you and spare my parents the trip,” she said.

  “Just keep yourself from catching this bug. Hopefully, like I said, it will blow over, and next week, we won’t have to worry about it.”

  “Thanks, Michael. You stay well too.”

  “Goodbye, Lorie.”

  Michael pushed disconnect and then dialed his parents’ house. He saw his battery level was still in the green. His parents picked up on the second ring.

  “Hi, Michael.” His mother sounded relieved to hear from him.

  “Hey, Mom! How are you all doing?”

  “We are well. How about you? Are you being safe?” There was more to that question than just words. What she meant was if Michael was taking precautions.

  “Yes to both questions, Mom.”

  “Your father and I have decided to go visit your Aunt Thelma,” she said. “Even if it’s only for a week. Better safe than sorry, your dad always says. At the least we can help her out with a few projects before returning home.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “And we’d like you to come join us as soon as you can,” she said.

  “When are you leaving?” Michael asked.

  “If all goes well, we’ll leave within the next twenty-four hours.”

  “I’m getting my truck from the shop today,” Michael said. “I don’t know exactly when I’ll leave here. I have to pack and…”

  “I’d like you to come here, and then we can go see your aunt together.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that just yet. I’ll try. And Lorie might need a ride home too.”

  “Lorie?” his mom asked with a certain tone that Michael had heard before. “I like her. She’s a nice girl, Michael.”

&nbs
p; “Mom…”

  “What? I just said she’s a nice girl. That’s all.”

  “Yes, Mother,” he said, knowing what she was implying.

  “We really would like you to try to make it home before we leave. But if you can’t, your father wanted me to ask if you would mow the lawn before heading to your aunt’s place. The grass is getting long, and it will be a nightmare to cut if we’re gone for more than a couple of weeks.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you, too, Mom.”

  They hung up, and Michael continued to walk to the garage. His parents were concerned for him, but they had not tried to force him to come home. Maybe they weren’t trying to be overbearing and control his life. Maybe they just cared deeply and wanted the best for him.

  Is the stuff really hitting the fan? It seemed so unreal. He looked around. Birds were still flying, cars were still driving on the streets, and he could hear the laughter of children playing in the distance. Maybe he’d had a nervous breakdown and was living in some sort of delusion. Or maybe Crazy Ted had hit him a little harder than he thought. Was this real? Were these things actually happening? And with more than just a little twinge of guilt, Michael thought maybe his parents had been right all along with their prepping fervor.

  Located on the outskirts of town, the trip to Gary’s garage was a rather long walk. Michael had considered asking Brian for a lift, but he never liked to impose on people. If Wilbur hadn’t sent him home, he would have been forced to ask Brian for a ride, but since Wilbur had canceled his shift, Michael had the time to walk.

  It was almost an hour later when he arrived at Gary’s garage. To his dismay, it looked closed. Michael knocked on the big, oversized doors with no response. The doors were chained and padlocked. He walked around to the office door. Even though Gary was usually in the garage and rarely in the office, Michael wanted to check.

  He tried the doorknob to the office—locked. Then, he noticed the hastily scrawled note, which said, “Closed due to illness.” Underneath, it said, “In case of emergency, dial 555-1533.”

  Punching the numbers into his cell phone, Michael was greeted with the familiar fast busy signal. He tried the number a few more times, and on his last try, it connected. The phone on the other end rang. After the sixteenth ring, Michael gave up. Exasperated and tired, he started on the long walk toward home.

  On his way, he tried calling his parents to tell them about his truck, but his call would not go through. He had a sudden, horrible, thought. What if that was the last chance he had to talk to them and he had not told them just how much he loved them. In fact, he could not remember the last time that he did tell them.

  Chapter 8

  The following day, Brian, Scott, and Michael all attended their Tuesday morning classes. As they looked around the classrooms, they estimated that less than half of the students were in attendance. The signs were still posted on all the doors. Some classes had even been canceled due to the professors’ illnesses. They walked back to their apartment.

  As he entered the apartment building, Michael realized that the animal-control shelter, also known as “the pound,” had not called him yet about his weekly schedule. Michael had always had a soft spot in his heart for abandoned, neglected, and abused dogs. During this last year at school, he had signed up to do volunteer work at the pound.

  It wasn’t an easy job. The noise from the constant barking was deafening. If one dog started barking, the rest would happily join in. All he had to do to start the symphony was walk into the kennel area. They would all get excited about being fed or going into the yard for a quick run.

  And then there was the smell. The kennel always stank of urine and feces, no matter how often the cages were cleaned. The stench just seemed to soak permanently into the concrete floors. But it wasn’t the dogs’ fault. They were just being dogs.

  Despite the noise and smell, Michael enjoyed volunteering. He got satisfaction out of giving the homeless dogs some attention and love in their lives. It was a sad job, too. He wished he could take all of them home with him. They all deserved a loving and caring family. But, unfortunately, dogs were coming in faster than they were being adopted out. If the apartment lease had allowed the occupants to have pets, who knows how many of the dogs that he cared for would end up at his place.

  One of the things Michael had volunteered to do was to take digital photos of the animals and periodically update the website. A current list and picture of an adoptable dog would greatly increase the chances of someone coming in looking for a new pet. Michael would also contact the local dog rescue agencies if a particular breed showed up at the shelter. If a Siberian husky came in, he would get on the phone with the Siberian Husky Rescue League. If a German shepherd was dropped off, he would contact that rescue organization. He did everything in his power to save as many animals as he possibly could.

  The pound usually called him Monday afternoon to ask what his schedule was like and what days he could volunteer for the following week. Between school and working at the pharmacy, Michael could usually manage only about two or three afternoons each week. It was now Tuesday, and he had not talked with them yet.

  “Did the pound call on Monday?” he asked his roommates.

  Brian thought about it and shook his head no.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Scott answered.

  “That’s strange,” Michael muttered, mostly to himself. He dialed the number to the shelter from the home phone. After more than twelve rings, Michael gave up and put the phone down. Frustrated, he just looked at the receiver in his hand. Isn’t anybody answering their phones anymore?

  Of course, just because someone didn’t answer the phone at the pound did not necessarily mean that no one was there. There might just be one person working, and he or she might be in the kennel, where it was impossible to hear the phone ring above the chorus of the barking.

  “No one answered,” Michael said. “Brian, do you mind if I borrow your car and go and give them my schedule for next week?”

  “Go ahead,” Brian answered.

  “I feel bad about borrowing your car so much…,” he started.

  “Seriously, Michael. Don’t worry about it. I still owe you from when my car broke down last year. Remember? And what about the time you drove both of us all the way home? Don’t even think about feeling bad about borrowing the car.”

  “Thanks,” Michael said gratefully.

  He retrieved the car keys from the table and drove off to the pound in Brian’s car. He noticed a lot of traffic on the road. It looked like an exodus of people, mostly college students, leaving town. Still feeling a little guilty about borrowing the car, Michael vowed to fill up the tank. It was the least he could do.

  Pulling into the gas station, he was surprised at how many cars were waiting to fill up. Usually, he could pull right up to the pump. Today, he had to wait almost fifteen minutes in line before his turn came.

  After topping off the gas tank, he pulled back out on the street and proceeded to the animal shelter. As he pulled into the parking lot, he noticed he was the only one there. Great, he thought, how am I going to get into the shelter?

  As he got out of the car, he could hear the dogs barking from within the building. He walked up to the front door, and to his surprise, the door was not locked. It should have been locked if no one was here.

  Michael let himself inside and called, “Hello?”

  Only the excited dogs answered him. Their fine-tuned hearing must have registered the sound of a car pulling into the parking lot.

  Michael entered the little reception area where the workers and volunteers processed the paperwork. He looked for a volunteer schedule and didn’t find anything. After checking a list of phone numbers, he used the shelter’s phone and dialed the manager. Receiving no answer, he put the phone down.

  Confused, he looked around for any sign that someone was scheduled to come in. The normal paid workers were not there. He tried a
nother number on the list of people, and the phone just rang.

  Concerned for the dogs, Michael let himself into the kennel area. His senses were almost immediately overwhelmed by the smell and noise. Walking down the corridor between the kennel cages, he saw that all the water bowls were empty and dirty. It didn’t look like the cages had been cleaned for days. And the dogs themselves looked as if they were thinner than normal. When had they last been fed?

  The kennel building had twenty cages. There were ten cages on each side of the concrete walkway. He passed mixed breeds, hound dogs, and a few German shepherds. Each cage had a chain that opened the door in the back concrete wall to allow the dog access to the outdoor run. At the very end of the corridor was a door that led outside to a fenced-in, grassy area where they could be walked or allowed to run around. Michael noticed that all but one of the cages contained dogs. The last one on the left was vacant.

  Returning to the kennel entrance, he opened the storeroom door. He dragged a full fifty pound bag of dog food back into the corridor and filled each dog bowl. The hungry dogs gobbled up the food ravenously as he washed and filled up the water bowls with fresh water from the hose.

  Then, one by one, Michael took each dog out of its cage and led them out to the fenced-in area. He let them run for a while as he hosed down each cage. He washed the urine and feces into the drainage channel; then, using a little splash of bleach, he scrubbed the cold concrete cage floor with a stiff scrubbing brush. After rinsing the cage, he placed the large fan where it would blow into the cage to expedite the drying process. He would start on the next cage while the previous cage dried. When the floor was sufficiently dry, he retrieved the now happy and fed dog and put it back in the cage.

  It was a very time-consuming process, and it took at least fifteen minutes per cage. Working alone, he spent over five hours cleaning the cages. It was dark outside by the time he finished. He was tired. Before leaving, he refilled the water bowls and gave each dog an extra helping of dry dog food.

  Exhausted, he left the kennel area and went back into the reception area, where he grabbed a blank piece of paper and wrote a long note, which he left in the center of the desk. He was just about to leave when he heard a whimper from behind one of the doors.