Contagious (6 page)

Amita was exhausted. But she wanted to spend even just a few hours at her new home. Boxes from the move were scattered about, some opened, some empty. Her mother was still asleep as was her three year old son. She took a moment to go into his room, adjust his covers and give him a kiss.

She showered quickly, and figured she had enough time to brew a cup of coffee, toss it in a travel mug and head out. She wasn’t certain, with all that was going on, when she’d be back home. She’d try to pop in, but thankfully her family understood.

Her husband, Tony was by the coffee maker when she walked into the kitchen. A man of average height, his dark hair was combed, and he was dressed as if he were leaving for the day. He wasn’t. He was a stay at home dad.

On the table was a freshly poured cup and  some toast.

Amita sighed out. “Ah, Tony, you know I don’t have time.”

“You do,” Tony said. “You got in at three am, and you’re leaving again. Take some time. Talk to me.”

She could talk to Tony. He had an understanding of what she dealt with. When she met him he was a Peace Corp nurse.

Amita sat at the table.

“How bad is it?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Is it time for Uncle Bruno’s birthday?”

“Not yet.” Amita shook her head. Uncle Bruno’s birthday was their code. The virus was out of control and Tony was to retreat to an isolated area with their son.

“Will it get there?”

“For the first time, I can say ‘maybe’.”

“Mi,” Tony sat down. “What is this ‘Sealed’ thing? How is that doing any good? I mean, they say in London, they are taking people from their homes and moving them to Heathrow.”

“It’s under quarantine. It’s the only way to keep tabs on everyone exposed. We can shut down their homes, but that’s not going to help us or them. A hundred homes is a hundred places we have to watch. If we keep them in one place, we can monitor, deliver supplies and medical attention if need be. We’ve sectioned Heathrow off. Sick … not sick.”

“Are there infected?” Tony asked. “Because they aren’t saying.”

“Not yet.”

“What about …” Tony’s eyes shifted and he stood up.

Amita knew what caught his attention. The President of the United States was on the news. Tony turned up the volume, but Amita was all too aware of what the early morning conference was about.

“Yes,” the President said. “We have quarantined JFK. We did so early yesterday morning.”

“How many people are quarantined in there right now?”

“Four hundred and twenty-seven. Health officials are being very cautious. They are isolating not only direct contact, but secondary and third parties as well.”

“How long will the airport be shut down?” another asked. “Will we eventually suspend air travel?”

The president shook his head. “We don’t see it coming to that and we believe after one week we can lift the quarantine.”

“Have there been reports of anyone else being sick?”

“Thankfully the only thing people are complaining about is the food.”

“We were initially told it was a gas leak.” a reporter stated. “Why the lie?”

“To keep panic low and to figure out what we are dealing with.”

“And that is?”

“A virus. But so far it is nothing major and nothing deadly.”

Amita lowered her head and dropped her toast.

Tony turned down the volume. “That’s not true is it?”

“It kills fast. Within twenty-four hours. I don’t know for certain what the fatality rate is, but I do know for certain....no one has beaten it.”

Tony was forcefully optimistic. He sat down again and held her hand. “But look at it this way. No one is sick. Heathrow or JFK. Maybe it stopped in Paris. Maybe it’s contained.”

“I hope. But I can’t do a victory dance yet. It has a three to four day incubation period before symptoms show. If this thing is not contained, then tomorrow, all those not showing symptoms, all those exposed, will be sick. And for the US, tomorrow is D-Day,” Amita said. “The virus awakens on our shores. The battle begins.”

“You’re too good. Too thorough.” He gave a strong squeeze to her hand. “You have to believe if they do get sick, you've got everyone contained.”

Heavily, Amita breathed out and made eye contact with her husband. “Let’s hope.”

<><><><>

Joel wanted bacon. His wife hadn’t bought any, and even if she had, there was no way Joel could make any before going to work. His wife Bianca had such an aversion to the smell of fried foods, she would have had a fit. Besides, Joel was already dealing with her griping about his Ben Gay.

He hoped he made it to the hotel in time to sneak some bacon off the buffet left overs. If not, he was pretty sure he could convince Ernie to make him some.

Chances were they’d be out, simply because house occupancy was only at twelve percent. They didn’t make much food when it was that low. JJ Wylde and his entourage of dancers, musicians, security and so forth, had booked three of their five floors. Even though they weren’t arriving until sometime during the day, they had booked them all the night before to ensure availability.

The hotel was empty.

Joel was in luck.

There was a pan with a half dozen strips on the back shelf, as he grabbed for one, he saw the room service girl., Katie, pouring an obscene amount of vodka into a large glass.

Chomping on his bacon, Joel walked over to her. “Please don’t tell me that’s for you.”

Katie giggled. “No. It’s a Bloody Mary for a guest.”

“At eight in the morning? Someone has a problem.”

“No, she doesn’t typically drink. But she told me she has a spiritual hangover from all the healing work she does.”

Joel nearly choked. “Our
self-help lady, Semora Love is getting her buzz on before she guides others.”

“She has a headache, Joel.”

“Take her some Ben Gay. That will help.”

“You’re the only one that helps.” Katie finished making the Bloody Mary.

“Not true. It’s an ancient Chinese secret.”

Katie lifted the tray and placed it on the room service cart. One lonely glass, but they followed strict protocol and everything was delivered on a cart.

“No food?” Joel asked. “Just booze?”

“She’s not feeling well, I guess. But she has that seminar today.”

Joel watched Katie as she started to wheel the cart. “Hey, just in case, keep a distance and wear gloves.”

“Joel that would be rude.”

“No, it would be safe. There’s that crazy virus going around.”

Katie shook her head. “Watch the news. It’s in New York, and I know for a fact she came from Eerie.”

“I guess you’re right. I’m being paranoid.”

Katie gave a ‘no problem’ look and wheeled the room service cart away.

As Joel enjoyed his bacon, he realized how insane he sounded.
Wear gloves
.
Keep a distance.
It wasn’t like Joel to overreact or get paranoid about things. He blamed it on his wife for going on and on about the quarantines. He made a mental note not to get like that because someone wasn’t feeling well. After all, he was in Cleveland, and really what were the chances that Miss Semora Love had that mystery virus?

<><><><>

It was a really bad habit, but Ava only indulged when she wasn’t home, and being at the hotel, was away from home. She was going to have a cigarette.

She grabbed breakfast on the way there and still had time to kill. She peeked in the
ballroom where the seminar was going to be. The wait staff was setting up beverages and she saw Semora Love reviewing her notes.

Ava felt a twinge of excitement when she saw Semora and almost did a fan boy when she waved. After all, Semora was a celebrity of sorts.

An employee told Ava she could smoke behind the building and she went back there. She lit up, inhaling slowly, enjoying the puffs of nicotine that she knew would make her a little dizzy. A third of the way through her smoke, she heard sniffling and sighing.

Thinking 'what the heck' and wondering if someone was hurt, she walked toward the sounds.

A few steps into her search she spotted him. A large man sat on the ground next to a garbage dumpster. With a duffel bag next to him, his head was down, his long dark hair hanging in his face and his shoulders were bouncing.

Ava took a few more steps and called to him. “Hey. Are you okay?”

He nodded.

“Did you miss your plane or bus?”

He shook his head. “You shouldn’t smoke. It’s bad for you.”

“Yeah, well so is crying by a dumpster.”

“I’m not crying. I’m … waiting. And my allergies are bothering me.”

“You’re crying. It’s okay to cry.”

“I’m not crying!” He blasted.

Ava stepped back. He was too big to argue with and too scary looking. What if he had a gun or explosives in the duffel bag and was going to blow up the hotel? Quickly, she snuffed out her cigarette and raced back into the hotel and to the front desk.

“May I help you?” the front desk clerk asked.

“Do you have a manager available?”

There was a shorter man in a blue shirt and navy tie. He turned around. “I’m Joel Carson, I’m the manager. What can I help you with?”

“There’s a big, scary man with a duffel bag crying by the dumpster. I think he may be dangerous.”

Joel groaned. “Aw, Rayne.”

“No it’s sunny out.”

“No. Just …” He held up his hand and quickly walked from behind the front desk. “I’ll handle it. Thank you.”

Ava nodded, then watched the manager walk outside. Figuring she still had time and was curious, she followed to see what was happening.

The manager walked directly to the dumpster and to the seated man.

Ava snuck close enough to hear.

“Rayne,” Joel blasted. “What the hell are you doing out here? You aren’t needed for another five hours.”

“I have nowhere to go.”

“How about home? Sleep. You can’t be out here moping.”

“She left, Joel,” Rayne shook his head. “She left. She took everything. Everything I have. And I just got a text.” He lifted his phone. “There’s someone else.”

Groaning out a compassionate, “Oh.” Ava walked over. “That’s horrible. No wonder you’re so sad.”

“Oh my God,” Joel said. “Don’t encourage this behavior.”

“You can’t leave him like this,” Ava said. “I know what this is like. I had this happen. You come home. Everything is gone.”

“Yeah,” Rayne looked up at her. “One fork.”

Ava closed her eyes and shook her head. “One fork. Well it is her loss. She should …. Hey …” Ava smiled brightly. “I know you.”

Joel asked. “You know him?”

“You know me?”

“I know you,” Ava said. “You’re Rayniac the Wrestler.”

“You know that?” Joel questioned in shock.

“Oh, I should. I write for Venue Vine.”

“I love that blog.” Rayne exclaimed.

“And my kids love you. You can’t let this get you down. You are on the cusp of greatness. You know that right?”

“Thank you.” Rayne slowly stood and extended his hand.

“Wow you’re big in person
,” Ava said. “I only saw you from a few rows back. Yeah, I write under the name Avery Smith.”

“I know you
,” Rayne said,

“Yep, and I know you.”

“Oh my God.” Joel whined. “Okay, can we go inside now? Please. Rayne go home.”

“No
,” Ava said, “Rayniac. There is a self-help seminar inside. Why don’t you attend? This woman is phenomenal. This could be exactly what you need. There’s a reason you are here on this day at the depths of your despair. The seminar.”

“No,” Joel said. “He’s just insane. Depths of his despair?”

“Yes.” Ava nodded. “He’s depressed and needs this.”

Joel tossed out his hands. “And on the cusp of greatness as you said. Maybe
you
should run the seminar.”

Ava found enjoyment in that comment and turned and peered up to Rayne. “Will you? I’ll even pay for you. Please. Just to tell my kids Rayniac sat next to me. Will you take a selfie with me so I can post it?”

“Sure. Yes. Thank you.”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh my God,” Joel said again and shook his head. “I think I’m the one who needs that drink instead of your seminar hostess.” He walked away.

Rayne reached down and grabbed his duffel bag, fixed his hair at Ava’s request and followed her in.

She told him to go and wash his face, which he did and then she led him to the ballroom.

Semora Love was in there at the podium and the guests were still outside.

“Miss Love?” Ava called out, walking in with Rayne. “I know you book these things ahead of time, but is there any way this man can attend? He’s having a really rough time.”

Semora placed her hand to her chest. “I can see that. I sense that.” She walked toward them. “Please. Have a seat. Let me look at you.”

Ava sat down and so did Rayne.

“I can pay for him,” Ava said. “I’ll write a check.”

“No. No.” She shook her head. “This man is in pain. It would be wrong.”

Sadly, Rayne nodded.

Semora reached out to him. “This is what you need. Trust me. I promise.” Before touching him, she turned her head, buried her mouth in the fold of her arm and coughed twice. She then laid her hand on his. “Your life will change from this moment on.”