The Jakarta Pandemic Page 9

  “I’d just like to get off the block unmolested,” he said, and they started to walk briskly toward the other side of the Durham Road loop.

  They continued to walk through the loop, passing the Murrays’ and the Bishops’ houses to their right. Alex caught some movement in his peripheral vision from the Santos’ yard, on the other side of the street, but nobody called out to them. They passed by the Cohens’ house, also on the left, and saw that both of their cars were fully packed. One of the cars had a cargo carrier on top, which was open and halfway stuffed with duffel bags. They both picked up the pace to get by the Cohens’ house.

  “They don’t have any immediate family down here, right?” Kate asked.

  “I was just thinking the same thing. I think Margaret’s parents are retired and live up near Bar Harbor,” he replied, still thinking about it.

  “Yes, that’s right. Her parents own a huge place on the water up there. They spend a few weeks each summer up there and most of the weekends.”

  “Looks like they’re taking off.”

  They continued walking toward Harrison Road, where they planned to turn right and connect with Everett Lane, which ran parallel to their neighborhood and connected with several other streets behind their subdivision. This route was one of their favorite walks, which took them a few miles through surrounding neighborhoods and eventually connected with Hewitt Park. Several foot trails extended for miles through the land trust preserve surrounding the park, but he and Kate usually turned around once they reached the park.

  As they approached Harrison Road, a black Toyota Sienna minivan careened, tires squealing, onto Durham Road, barely making the turn ahead of a red sedan on Harrison Road.

  “What the…” Alex exclaimed, pushing Kate slightly off the sidewalk onto the Quinns’ lawn and putting himself between the van and his wife. He quickly recognized the Perrys’ van as it approached, still moving way too fast for a neighborhood road. He saw Todd Perry behind the wheel of the van as it closed the distance.

  I really hope he keeps going.

  The van slowed as it pulled parallel to the Fletchers, the window already down.

  No luck.

  “Can you believe this shit?!” Todd yelled at them.

  “What’s going on, Todd? Is everything all right?” Kate asked, almost sounding overly concerned.

  “No. I’ve been all over Portland, and it’s the same story. I guess you have to get up at five in the morning to get groceries now,” he said, barely below the level of screaming.

  “Yeah, I think from this point on, you might be right,” Alex said.

  “What am I supposed to do, camp out with my entire family? Four kids in a minivan, just so we can fill up a cart full of groceries? They have to figure something else out. Not everyone can afford to sit around Hannigan’s all day,” he replied, his tone calming slightly.

  “Todd, why don’t you have Susan give me a call? We can watch your kids for a few hours in the morning, and you can both head over really early. Take separate cars, get in line separately, then you can play a little catch up and get two loads of groceries. Don’t go together. They won’t let you grab two carts if they see you’re together,” Kate offered.

  “They? Who the fuck are they? Some punk ass kids at Hannigan’s?” he said loudly.

  “No, the police. Nancy Cooper saw the cops break up a couple trying to load two carts into one car.”

  “Jesus. It’s a police state already. Hey, sorry to bite your heads off. I’m just a little frustrated by all of this nonsense. I appreciate the offer to watch the kids. We may take you up on it. I’m gonna have Sue call her parents, maybe they can drive down from Augusta tonight and help us out. Thanks. I’ve been so pissed off, I can barely think straight,” he said, calm now.

  “Just keep us in mind, Todd. We’ve got nothing planned for tomorrow, so it’s really no big deal for one of us to head over and keep the kids company, or you can pack them up in their pajamas and herd them over to our house. I’ll feed them pancakes,” Alex offered.

  “Thanks, guys. I’ll run it by Susan.”

  “We might be out tonight for dinner, so leave a message and we’ll call you when we get back.”

  “Thanks again, guys. I’ll give you a call later,” Todd said.

  “See ya, Todd,” Kate said.

  Todd accelerated the van to a reasonable speed and made a controlled turn toward his house. Alex and Kate started walking again.

  “Loose cannon alert,” Kate said. “Susan told me he had a short temper.”

  “Confirmed. Are you really gonna get up at the ass crack of dawn to watch their kids?”

  “Oh, I’m not getting up. You are.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He laughed.

  They turned on Harrison Road and walked holding hands toward Everett Lane. A chilly breeze sifted through the towering maple and oak trees along Harrison Road, sending a cascade of dried yellow, red and brown leaves to the ground.

  **

  The Fletchers’ Subaru crossed the Casco Bay Bridge, headed away from Portland. Traffic was surprisingly light, and Alex took a moment to look left, across the oncoming lanes. He stared out into the Casco Bay. Lights sprinkled across Peaks Island were barely visible, giving the island a sparsely populated feel. Indeed, at this time of the year, the island held fewer than a thousand residents, and the number decreased every week as seasonal home owners retreated to the mainland for the harsh winter.

  As their car continued on, the view of Peaks Island was washed out by the blazing deck lights of a massive petroleum carrier docked at the oil terminal on the northern tip of South Portland’s industrial waterfront.

  Alex felt bloated from dinner. He could have stopped with a nice salad after the appetizers, but the allure of seared ahi tuna was too much to resist. Kate made a similarly delicious but regrettable decision, choosing the citrus glazed salmon. Both of them rode in silence across the bridge. As they crested the bridge and began to descend, they saw two police cars at the first intersection. The cruisers’ roof lights flashed a blue warning to the approaching cars.

  As they drew closer, he gained a clear picture of the situation at the bottom of the bridge. The police cruisers were positioned to barricade the two lanes of forward traffic, leaving just enough room for vehicles to drift into the far right turn lane. A police officer stood adjacent to the far right cruiser, motioning traffic toward the turn with a red illuminated wand. As their car approached the police officer, Alex slowed the car to a stop and lowered his window.

  “Evening, Officer. What’s going on down there?”

  The officer leaned down with a serious expression, took a look around the car, and then settled his eyes on Alex. His glare softened, erasing any trace of anxiety from the encounter.

  “Nothing to be worried about. We have about three to four hundred cars jammed into the Shale’s and Hannigan’s lots, waiting for tomorrow. Lots of people roaming the lots, eating at McDonald’s, ordering Domino’s. A regular zoo down there. We tried to move them out of there, but it became pretty apparent that nobody planned to go anywhere. Not much we can do, right? We’re just trying to keep any more cars from jamming into those areas. We’re gonna be up all night walking those lots.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, I hope you have a relatively uneventful evening,” Alex said to him.

  “Thanks, though I’m not very optimistic at this point,” the officer said and tipped his hat.

  Alex raised the window and slowly turned onto Broadway Avenue, turned left at the next stop light, and headed toward Scarborough.

  “That’s a little creepy,” he said.

  “Do you think people are really going to sleep in their cars all night?” Kate asked.

  “I guess, though I can’t imagine what it’ll be like in that parking lot at about 2:30 in the morning. It won’t take much to turn one of those parking lots into a mob, or a free-for-all, especially when the Hannigan trucks start rolling in. I think the police will have th
eir hands full.”

  “What’s happening, Dad?” Ryan asked groggily.

  “I thought you guys were asleep,” Alex responded.

  “Emily’s out,” Ryan answered.

  “The police officer said that the parking lots at Shale’s and Hannigan’s were full of cars waiting for the stores to reopen in the morning. People have been waiting all day to get food, and they probably ran out at some point today. The police are directing everyone away from the area.”

  “Why are they all trying to get more food? Don’t they have enough by now?”

  “A lot of people are a little worried about the flu pandemic causing a long term food shortage, so they rushed to stock up on groceries, all at once, and the stores weren’t prepared for that many customers at one time. Most of the stores ran out of food items early in the day and had to close, which makes people even more nervous.”

  “Where do the stores get their food?”

  “Large distribution centers somewhere around here, I guess. The centers pack up those large Hannigan semis and send them out every day,” Kate said.

  “Yeah,” Ryan said, and Alex sensed that he was fading away.

  Far down the road, they could see the flashing blue lights of a police car approaching them from the opposite direction. He instinctively slowed the car, even though they were already within the speed limit. The police car approached them and sped by, heading in the direction of the shopping complex.

  “Was that a Scarborough cop?” Kate asked.

  “I don’t know, the car was going too fast. They all look the same.”

  “Why would it be the Scarborough police? We aren’t in Scarborough yet,” Ryan asked from the back seat.

  “Good point, though if it was a Scarborough cop, then it might indicate a real problem back at Mill Creek. I think that’s why your mom asked.”

  Kate looked at him uneasily and nodded her agreement. For the remaining ten minutes of the trip home, they rode in silence.

  Chapter Ten

  Sunday, November 3, 2013

  Alex sat alone in his office, surfing through several bookmarked websites. Sweat dripped off his face, and he wiped it onto his gray T-shirt with a sweep of his left arm. The gesture did little to help since his entire shirt was drenched with sweat. He opened the office windows and walked to the bathroom to grab a towel.

  He’d awoken at 7:00 a.m. for a light run, but once again found the weather irresistible. As promised by local meteorologists, warm, humid air from Hurricane Terrence continued to pour into New England, bringing unseasonably warm temperatures. He had checked their thermometer and found that it was already sixty-two degrees in the shade on their deck. Stepping outside, moist, salty air filled his lungs, and he felt like their neighborhood had been transported to Florida. One hour later, he returned to their neighborhood, with the complete understanding that he would pay for it later. He hadn’t run more than forty minutes in several months, and adding twenty minutes nearly killed him.

  He skimmed several stories and then jumped over to the ISPAC Pandemic Map, which he kept minimized for quick access. The map of China showed expanded red and violet areas, growing inward from the coast all the way east to Fuzhou. Shanghai and Qingdao, two major coastal cities, sat in areas shaded red. The greater Beijing area was colored orange, with several small red dots indicating medium cluster outbreaks within the area. Placing the cursor over the China icon, he read:

  “China. Population 1,350,678,400. Massive outbreak. 820,000 reported cases. Concentrated WHO effort to contain outbreak unsuccessful. WHO teams status unknown due to communications blackout imposed by Chinese government. Uncontained.”

  He went back to the news articles. “Indonesia to allow full WHO and U.N. support…submits formal apology to U.N. for treatment of inspection teams…pleads for immediate assistance…deaths estimated at 73,000…over 2 million cases of Jakarta flu.”

  “More cases of Jakarta flu appearing in major European cities…London confirms several hundred cases…”

  Now it’s the Jakarta flu.

  “That’s it for me,” Alex announced, rising from the chair to check on the rest of his family. He really didn’t need to check on Ryan. He’d be shocked to find him awake. He never expected to see him before 10 a.m. on weekends anymore, but Emily was a different story. She usually got up at the same time on weekends as she did during the week, sometimes earlier. He peeked into both of their rooms to see if they were still asleep. Ryan was buried in his covers, his dark hair barely poking out of the top of the blankets. He pushed open Emily’s door and walked a few feet into her room, then peeked around the corner at her. She had tossed all of her covers off, but still looked solidly asleep. Both rooms were dark, with the shades pulled tight.

  Alex walked down the hallway to the master suite and looked over at his wife. Like Ryan, Kate was buried in covers, her long black hair spilling out from the top of the blankets onto her pillow. He could hear her breathing deeply. Unlike the kids’ rooms, the master bedroom was bathed in light. Kate liked to rise naturally with the sun, or at least she claimed to like it, but he couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up within three hours of dawn, especially during the summer months, when the sun began to rise at four-thirty.

  Looks like I have the house to myself.

  He backtracked to the master bathroom and started the shower.

  **

  As Alex poured pancake batter onto a non-stick frying pan, he heard someone walking down the stairs. By the creak of the stairs, he could tell immediately that it was Kate.

  “Good morning, my love. You’re right on time,” he said without turning around.

  She took the final step down onto the hardwood floor in front of the stairs before responding.

  “How did you know it wasn’t Ryan?”

  Alex sensed a trap. “I can just tell,” he said, not taking the bait.

  “All right…just as long as you’re not implying anything about my weight,” she said.

  “Nope. Everyone has their own unique signature coming down the stairs. Ryan sounds like he’s stumbling down after being shot. Emily takes three years to descend. I fly down the stairs, and you glide gracefully with a purpose,” he said, smugly.

  “Don’t push it,” she said, moving directly for the coffee maker. “Pancakes. Yummy. And the coffee is made. You’re my hero. How many times a week can we have pancakes?” she asked.

  He flipped the pancakes over and stepped away from the stove to give her a hug and a kiss. “Do you mean if we go into quarantine, or in general? Because in general, I could eat them every morning, but in quarantine, we’re probably looking at no more than once a week,” he said, still holding her.

  “Maybe one of us should stand in line at the store and just buy pancake ingredients,” she replied, and he couldn’t tell if she was serious or joking.

  He let go of her and returned to the stove to take the pancakes off the pan, placing them under tin foil on a large plate on the counter to the left of the stove.

  “Actually, after today, I think we’re done visiting public spaces, or interacting with other people. Did you check the ISPAC map?” he asked, while pouring another batch of pancakes onto the frying pan. The oil around the edges of the pancakes sizzled when the batter hit the pan.

  “No, I just came straight down when I smelled the pancakes.”

  “They’ve named it the Jakarta flu, so I guess they’re fairly certain that the epicenter is in Jakarta. The Navy rescued the missing ISPAC team from Indonesian waters. Based on the flu casualty predictions I saw in one of the articles, I can understand why the Mullahs didn’t want them snooping around. The estimate I saw was two million cases.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Kate asked incredulously.

  “No. That’s why I think today is our last day out and about. The numbers are rising very rapidly here and abroad. It’s already out of control.”

  “Hey, I’m good with starting our quarantine right now,” she said, taking a co
ffee mug down from the cabinet.

  “I think we should let them hang out with their friends today and call it good. That way we can start the quarantine on a better note. Emily has a play date set up with Jessica, and I think Ryan is planning to invite Connor and Daniel over today. That should be fine.”

  “I don’t know…what if Jessica’s uncle visited them last night, after shopping at the Shale’s in Falmouth, right behind the wife of the guy, or the sister of the guy who’s in the hospital…”

  “I understand what you’re saying,” he assured Kate, “but I feel confident we’ll be fine letting her go over there. She can wash her hands a lot. It’ll be fine. Let both of them enjoy the day. It’s beautiful out,” he said, pointing out of the windows over the kitchen sink.

  “All right. I’ll talk to Elaine and make sure they wash their hands a lot. Maybe she’ll cancel the play date,” she suggested.

  “Maybe, but don’t count on it. Even if she does, Emily will find another. At least Jessica’s parents seem pretty responsible,” he said.

  “Yeah, I guess. Are some of the pancakes ready? I don’t feel like waiting another hour for the kids.”

  “Almost. If you set the table, I’ll pour a few more.”

  “Deal. Hey, did you see any cars in front of the Perrys’ this morning?” she asked, having just spotted the Sunday paper.

  “No, I checked on my way out for a run at about seven, then again an hour later. I walked out about ten minutes ago, pretending to check the mailbox and still nothing.”

  “What the hell are they thinking?”

  “I don’t know, maybe they all went out shopping together,” he suggested weakly.

  “With four kids? I doubt it.”

  “Loose cannon alert?”

  “More like idiot alert,” Kate responded.

  Quarantine

  Chapter Eleven

  Monday, November 4, 2013