by Scott Cramer
“Kevin, close your eyes,” Emily said. “Try to sleep.”
Sleep offered him the only respite from the constant pain he felt. It also offered her a time to cry. Emily vowed to remain strong in front of her brother.
When the creases on his face smoothed and his breathing grew steady, she let the tears trickle freely down her cheeks.
From downstairs, Jimmy shouted out that the CDC was issuing a new bulletin, and Emily heard the stampede of footsteps that followed, kids scurrying into the living room to listen. She turned on the portable radio and kept the volume low.
“We are pleased to report that antibiotic production is on schedule,” the robot began. Cheers and clapping erupted downstairs. For the survivors most at risk of entering puberty, this news was like winning the lottery. Emily was one of those winners, though she didn’t feel much like celebrating.
The robot babbled on about the scientific details of the production method and then delivered the information that everyone had been waiting for. “The pills will be distributed in three phases at major airports around the country, starting in May. We will announce the details as soon as plans become finalized.”
Emily sat taller and wiped her eyes. May was only three months away. Could Kevin survive that long? He had to. She would keep him cool with wet cloths and make sure he drank plenty of water, keep his spirits up, keep him going.
When Kevin groaned and blinked, she held a glass of water to his lips, insisting that he take a drink. “You need lots of liquids,” she said. “While you were sleeping, there was a new CDC broadcast. The antibiotic—’’
“I heard it,” he said in barely a whisper. “I wasn’t sleeping. Emily, once the rash appears on my back, I’ll only have a few more days to live. But you and Abby and Jordan will be fine. I’m so happy for you.”
“Kevin, don’t say that. You can make it. You will make it!
He smiled weakly. “Do you remember the day we moved here?”
The change of topic jarred her.
Emily raised her eyebrows. “Who could forget?”
They had flown to frigid Boston in the middle of December from warm and sunny San Diego. They drove in a blinding snowstorm to Portland to catch the ferry, the first time that she and Kevin had seen snow. Fleets of snowplows crowded the highway, making her nervous parents suddenly question their decision to move to Castine Island.
“I remember how disappointed I was,” Emily said. “All that snow on the mainland, but not a flake stuck to the ground here.”
“That’s because the temperature of the surrounding water raised the relative humidity.”
Kevin, always the scientist!
“Emily,” he continued, “I really wanted to have a snowball fight with you.”
She cracked a small smile. “Yeah, right! The only thing you cared about was our internet connection. That’s all you talked about on the plane. On the ferry you kept bugging Father to upgrade the download speed. He was seasick. That was the last thing he wanted to talk about.”
Kevin shook his head adamantly. “No, I wanted to play in the snow.” His lower lip trembled and he blinked back tears. “I wanted to wear mittens and have a snowball fight. There are so many things I’ll never do. I am so scared.”
Emily broke her vow and wept openly.
* * *
Abby, Emily, and Jordan took shifts to stay with Kevin around the clock. Although it was Jordan’s turn, Abby had told her brother that she wanted to be with him.
Troubled by the perspiration dribbling off Kevin’s brow, she opened his bedroom window a crack, thinking the cold breeze would make him feel more comfortable. By the time she returned to his side, he was visibly shaking from chills. The space germs played cruel tricks. She closed the window.
Abby adjusted Kevin’s blanket. Agitated, Cat jumped off the bed, but soon hopped back up and curled by Kevin’s feet.
“You know what I’d like?” Kevin said. His voice was weak and raspy.
“Did I ever tell you how predictable you are?” Abby pretended to be cheery, upbeat. “I know exactly what you want.” She paused and let the tension build. “You want to see the International Space Station go overhead.” On many nights, during happier times, she and Kevin had watched the bright dot arc across the night sky as they lay next to each other in the back yard, their hands brushing accidently on purpose. Now she thought that they could bundle him up and carry him outside. The fresh air might do him good. “Am I right?”
“Roti prata and shahi paneer,” Kevin said. Abby narrowed her eyes, confused. “But any kind of Indian food would be great,” he added.
Find Indian food on Castine Island nine months after the moon turned purple? Forget it! Kevin had consumed all the spicy food from his house a long time ago. Rather than disappoint him, Abby said, “Sure, I’ll talk to Emily.”
Emily didn’t have a clue what they could make for her brother. Incredibly, it was Jordan who went to the library, consulted an Indian cook book, and came up with a plan: they’d make the spicy Indian tea called chai. It required tea bags, cinnamon, cardamom seeds, cloves, and ginger powder. Although the kids had searched each island home several times over, taking all useful items, nobody had bothered to take spices.
A trip to several kitchens quickly procured all the ingredients.
That evening everyone packed into Kevin’s room for the candlelight tea party. It was standing room only. Emily had returned to her house for a CD of Indian sitar music which they played on a battery-powered boom box.
Kevin insisted on holding the mug himself, but moments later his head lolled to the side and Abby grabbed the mug before the tea spilled.
When Kevin drifted into a feverish coma, the guests remained, the candles burning shorter in a heavy silence. Nobody wanted to leave.
Abby slept on pillows piled on the floor next to Kevin’s bed as she had done for the past two nights, planning to stay by his side until he took his final breath.
She opened her eyes. Shafts of dawn light turned the wall a rosy red. She rolled over and startled. Kevin, teetering on the edge of the bed, was staring down at her.
“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up,” he said. She startled a second time, hearing how clear and strong his voice was.
“Good morning,” she said and nudged him back from the edge. Then she moved to the other side of the bed and gently lifted the back of his shirt to check on his rash. The rash seemed to signal the last stage of the illness, the final seven days. Both Colby and KK had died seven days after their rashes appeared. Kevin’s rash had first appeared between his shoulder blades six days ago. It was red and raw, oozing pus, devouring the skin between his shoulder blades. Abby cursed the comet for the millionth time.
Kevin sat up. “Abby, do you remember Mr. Emerson’s story about the hippos?”
She swallowed hard, knowing that she should call Emily. This crazy surge of energy and lucidity meant that Kevin’s death was imminent. She eyed the walkie-talkie on the table. Emily would still be asleep but Abby knew that she had propped her walkie-talkie on her pillow next to her ear.
“You couldn’t have forgotten the story,” Kevin said. “It was only nine months ago.”
Mr. Emerson. Seventh grade at Parker School. Sitting in class and wishing the whole time she had been back in Cambridge. Glancing at the window, fearing fog would move in.
“I remember,” she said. “The doctors told the villagers to kill the hippos because they might put germs in the pond, so the villagers killed them. Afterwards, a flood washed away the huts when the water had no place to drain. It used to drain where the hippos made their tracks. Nobody had thought the hippos were important.”
“Unforeseen consequences,” Kevin said. “The same thing happened with the space dust. Pollution destroyed the atmosphere, allowing the space dust to enter.”
Abby reached for the walkie-talkie. “You’re probably right,” she said.
“Our friendship was an unforeseen consequence of the space dust
, too,” Kevin said. “If it weren’t for the comet, we would never have met.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “We were neighbors. On a tiny island.”
“You thought I was weird.”
“A little bit,” she admitted with a shrug.
“A lot!” he smiled. It was his first real smile in weeks.
Abby placed the walkie-talkie on the floor and curled her fingers in his. She tried to hide her shock. How much longer could he survive with such a high fever? “Kevin, on the jetty …when you gave me the ruby bracelet… did you want to kiss me?”
He fidgeted and mumbled something and lowered his eyes. She thought she detected a nod. “I was afraid,” he said.
Kevin was as shy and nerdy as the day they had met, and now he had no place to run. And when he finally raised his eyes to her, he didn’t seem like he wanted to, either.
At last their lips touched.
Within the hour, with Emily and Abby at Kevin’s side, Cat announced the latest death with a mournful cry.
YEAR 1 – A NEW PLAN
Twenty-seven kids, the entire population of Castine Island, assembled in the mansion living room to hear exactly where and when the antibiotic would be available. On the radio the message from the CDC repeated in a loop. “At twelve o’clock noon, Eastern Standard Time, the antibiotic distribution schedule will be announced.”
The mood in the room was festive. A little more than a year after the night of the purple moon, the kids were about to learn which cities would receive the antibiotic in phases over the next three months. The plan was for Eddie and Jordan to sail to the city, or to the closest port, in Jordan’s skiff. The boys would get enough pills for everyone on the island. The future for the survivors was still uncertain, but at least after taking the pills they would no longer have to worry about space germs.
Abby forced a smile to blend in. She would soon learn if she would be able to celebrate her fourteenth birthday in two months. She sat alone in the corner, gripping the arm of the chair to keep from slumping. Earlier in the day her temperature had been one hundred and two degrees. It felt higher now, her cheeks on fire. She also had a terrible itch between her shoulder blades, a sign the rash was about to appear.
Abby sensed someone staring at her. She scanned the room and saw it was Toby Jones. Toby held her gaze briefly before turning away.
Grinning, Toucan charged across the room, ready to jump into Abby’s lap.
She weakly held up her hands. “Not now, Touk.”
Keeping Toucan in the dark was proving to be Abby’s greatest challenge.
Toucan stopped abruptly, disappointed, but she quickly recovered and raced after Danny.
Abby had kept her illness a complete secret until only recently. It was too frightening to suffer alone, and she had to tell someone. She had confided in Toby because she thought it would help him feel part of the group, knowing such personal information. She also trusted Toby. He had promised that he wouldn’t say anything.
The CDC announcement started at noon. The robotic voice babbled on for ten minutes about scientific methodologies, something that would have interested Kevin. Sadly, this moment for him had come too late for him.
“A single dose of the antibiotic has the power to counteract the germ,” the robot said, finally getting to the important part. “Packets of fifty pills will be passed out. To maintain order, we encourage you to send one representative from your group.”
Abby sucked in her breath. So far so good. The boys could acquire more than enough pills for everyone on the island.
“The distribution schedule is as follows: Phase I on May 1, Phase II on June 1, and Phase II on July 1.”
She made a quick calculation. The first of May was in eight days. She needed Portland to be a Phase I destination. Portland International Airport bordered the harbor and was a day’s sail in Jordan’s skiff. Eddie and Jordan should be able to return to the island with the pills on the night of May 1 or the next day. She’d will herself to stay alive until then.
“These are the Phase I cities in alphabetical order: Albany, New York; Anchorage, Alaska; Atlantic City, New Jersey; Ann Arbor, Michigan; Bethesda, Maryland; Baltimore, Maryland; Birmingham, Alabama; Boise, Idaho; Boston, Massachusetts …”
Cheers drowned out the broadcast. Good news for the group, but not for Abby. It would take Jordan and Eddie at least a week to sail to Boston. Without any major setbacks, the boys would return to the island around May 6th. Abby couldn’t hold on that long.
A chorus of “shhhs” from the older kids quieted everyone.
“Portland,” Abby whispered to herself over and over.
“Honolulu, Hawaii; Hartford, Connecticut; Helena, Montana; Hot Springs, Arkansas; Irving, California …”
Abby clenched her jaw. The room started spinning.
“Palm Beach, Florida, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; Portland…”
The kids once more erupted with shouts as they jumped up and down and hugged. Toucan ran toward Abby, and this time she wrapped her arms around her sister and squeezed. Tears of relief washed down her feverish cheeks.
“Hold on!” Jimmy shouted. He had a small radio pressed to his ear. “They said Portland, Oregon.”
The children quieted as the robotic voice began listing Phase II cities. Jimmy had heard correctly. Portland Maine was not a Phase I destination but rather a Phase II city, distributing the antibiotic six weeks from now.
Abby barely heard the celebrations. She tried to focus on the only good news: Jordan would survive and be able to raise Toucan.
* * *
Jordan worried that his tired legs might crumple beneath him and he used the wall to steady himself. Unable to keep liquids and food down for the past two days, he was growing weaker by the hour. He squinted at the blur of kids jumping up and down and giving each other high fives, wishing that he could share their joy.
The CDC news had struck him like a hammer. If only Portland had been a Phase I city. His lower lip quivered, and he feared he might burst into tears. Crying would look suspicious while everyone else was celebrating.
Eddie pushed through the crowd. “Jordie, you ready to sail tomorrow?” Eddie’s attempt to sound upbeat revealed his anxiety all the more.
Eddie was the only person privy to Jordan’s deadly secret. Both boys had thought that if the others knew that Jordan was dying from space germs, they would never want him to make the journey to get the antibiotics.
“Catch you later,” Jordan said to his friend and headed toward the stairs.
In the privacy of his bedroom, Jordan lifted his shirt, turned, and winced from the sight in the mirror. The rash between his shoulder blades, which he had first noticed the day before, was now oozing pus. He lowered his t-shirt and nearly blacked out. It felt like sharp nails were making deep furrows from his neck to the base of his spine.
Should he go with Eddie? Was that the right thing to do for himself and for the community? Jordan jumped when Cat rubbed up against his leg.
He sat on his bed to consider his options. Going to Boston gave him his only chance of survival. Even when ill, Jordan was still the best sailor on the island. By taking the antibiotic on May 1, he might live.
But the slightest delay and he’d likely die before ever reaching Boston. And that would put Eddie at risk. Eddie needed a strong, healthy sailing partner to increase the odds of success.
No matter how much Jordan thought about it, he always came to the same conclusion. He should not go. To save the people he loved most, he must sacrifice his own life.
Right now was a good time to get all the crying out of his system before he announced that to the others.
* * *
That evening the kids settled down to council, still buzzing from the news they had received earlier in the day. Emily was running tonight’s meeting, and, after speaking to both Toby and Eddie, she felt an urgency to put their plan in motion.
Jordan waved his hand weakly. “I have something to say.�
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It broke Emily’s heart to see the boy she loved so gaunt and frail, but she signaled him to wait.
“We’re skipping the usual agenda,” she began. “As you know, the antibiotic will be available in Boston on May first and then on June first in Portland. That’s good news for most of us.” Emily made eye contact with Abby and then Jordan. Each Leigh squirmed in their seats before looking away. “I have a proposal,” she continued. “Tomorrow morning, Abby and Jordan should sail together to Boston.”
“What?” Jordan blurted. “No way!” He stood, wobbled, and sat back down. “Tim should take my place. He should go with Eddie. That’s what I was going to say.” He paused a moment, then added: “Why do you want Abby to go?”
“She’s sick,” Emily said, “just like you.”
Jordan grilled Eddie with a hard stare. “You told her?”
“Emily already knew,” Eddie replied.
Jordan narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. “Abby,” he finally said, “you’re sick?”
“I’m fine,” Abby said.
Toby stood. “You’re not fine. Abby, I’m sorry I broke my promise, but I told Emily and Eddie about your condition for a good reason.”
“Jordan,” Abby said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Look who’s talking!”
Emily held up the red card. “We’re taking a vote,” she said. “Who wants Abby and Jordan to go together?”
“Wait,” Abby said. “What if we don’t make it back? You’ll have no way to reach Portland.”
“Your brother knows the answer,” Eddie told her.
Jordan cocked his head. “I do?”
“Ben and Gabby thought they came here in row boat,” Eddie said. “It’s not a row boat. It’s a sailing skiff. I’ve already found a spare mast and rigged the boat. If you and Abby don’t make it back, Tim and I will sail their boat to Portland on June first.”
Abby stood and slowly made her way to Jordan. “It’s our only chance.”
