Authors: Ken Benton
“I do,” Tom said. “Whaddya got, Clint?”
“Pair of kings.”
“Tens and sevens. I finally beat you.” Tom began raking in the pot. “It’s scary as hell. I’ve stocked up on hand sanitizer. Louise and I are staying the heck away from public places.”
“Colorado had a normal flu season,” Clint said. “They say most of ours was a familiar type-A strain, whatever that means. I don’t even know anyone who’s sick right now. The new killer bird flu has only popped up in Europe and on the east coast.”
“They found three cases in L.A. now,” one of the other guys said.
Roy nodded. “I heard that just before leaving the house, too. Which means it could go anywhere. Denver is one of the busiest airports in the world, you know.”
“Not anymore,” Harold said coming back into the room. He handed Tom a beer, turned his chair around, and sat before noticing everyone was looking at him expectantly.
“They’re cancelling flights left and right,” he explained. “People are too scared to go anywhere. And it’s a hassle. You have to get a 30-second health examination now before they’ll even let you through security. Part of the CDC’s new program. They’re starting to do it at train and bus stations, too. If you look sick, you don’t get to travel. Plain as that. Must suck for the poor people suffering from allergies.”
“Sick people can still drive,” Roy said.
“Not very far if they have the bird flu. That thing really throws you down, apparently. Who’s deal is it?”
“Yours,” everyone said.
Harold picked up the cards. “Seems like the situation is changing hourly now. Reminds me of the first gulf war. Hard to tear yourself away from the TV. You guys want me to put a news station on so we can listen while we play?”
“No!” Clint said. “No news. Just deal.”
Chapter Two
“The President is sick,” Jake said.
“How do you know that?”
“Wikileaks.”
“I’ve heard of that website.” Clint switched the phone to his other ear. “Never been to it myself. It always seems to be associated with something negative when I hear it mentioned.”
“That’s because you only listen to mainstream media, on the rare occasions you decide to see what’s happening outside your hole in the ground.”
“Well I’m certainly not interested in the questionable sources nuts like you feed their paranoia with.”
“That’s not the only source, Clint. I thought it might be one you respect. These ‘wacky blogs’ I follow, as you put it, often get the real story before it breaks on the Associated Press. You can trust me on this one. He’s sick, and the way it’s being hushed probably means it’s the bad one.”
“You mean the H5. The bird flu.”
“Right,” Jake said. “But that’s not all. Congress is taking an unscheduled recess. The senate will no doubt do the same. Attendance is down significantly in both houses, right when the country needs them most. You know why?”
“The virus?”
“Yes! The United States will be without a government in a matter of weeks, maybe even days. It’s really hitting the fan this time. You and Jenny should come down here. I’m serious, brother. Don’t fight me. I know a good shop in Colorado Springs where you can stop and buy gold bars on the way. Tell Hank Pitman you’re my brother and he’ll treat you right.”
“I have to go, Jake. We’ll be late for church.”
Short pause.
“That Bible-thumping church still?”
“Same one, yes. Bible teaching. Not so much thumping.”
“Whatever. We both know you only go because of Jenny.”
“Whatever. I’m happy with my life. All of it.”
“That’s why you’re blind. You don’t want anything to change. Well, it’s changing, Clint. I’ll admit I’ve been wrong about some things in the past—”
“A lot of things.”
“Some things. And even I didn’t see this one coming. But it’s here, and the whole world knows it. Except you. I understand you have a cozy setup there with your cushy job living in the suburbs…”
“Cushy? You should try—”
“You’re living in denial, brother. Seriously. Ask that neighbor of yours, the cool one across the street. I’ll bet he sees things a little more clearly, since he’s single.”
“Harold’s a good guy. And smart. You’re right. I talk to him all the time. He isn’t panicking. So there. Called your bluff. You lose. Gotta go.”
“To church, right. Don’t touch the collection plate. Sit in the back.”
“They stopped passing it when the first outbreak began. The pastor no longer shakes hands with everyone afterwards, either. And we always sit in the back.”
“Might not be such a bad thing, then. Maybe the preacher will do a sermon on Revelation.”
“Actually,” Clint said, “he’s been reading a lot of verses lately about how God protects those who place their trust in Him.”
“Tell him to read the Proverbs verse about the ant.”
“Gotta go.”
“Call me back later?”
“I don’t know. We’re going shopping.”
“Sam’s Club?”
“Clothes shopping.”
“Not the mall!”
“Yes Jake, but—”
“Bro, that’s nuts! What, do you have a death wish or something?”
“There’s no outbreak in Colorado.”
“Listen to me, Clint. I want you both to wear facemasks and gloves. Please. For me.”
“I really have to go. Sorry. Bye, Jake.”
Clint heard Jake’s continued objections increase in volume as he hung the receiver up. Jenny was already waiting in the car. She didn’t look happy about being late when Clint finally joined her. Clint drove faster than normal. She didn’t object this time.
Church attendance was low. No surprise there. Hopefully, mall attendance would be, too. As their pew exited, Clint noticed several parishioners actually wearing masks and gloves.
“Maybe we should stop by Home Depot first,” Clint said to Jenny in the parking lot.
“What for?”
Clint thought fast. “I want to replace the light fixture above your makeup station.”
“Are you teasing me? Oh, happy day! It only took two years. You know I put my makeup on with a flashlight every morning?”
“No. I didn’t know that.”
“I’m sure I told you. How hard are they to install?”
“They can’t be too difficult. Don’t worry. You’re married to an engineer.”
“Right. We’ll ask the Home Depot guy how to do it.”
Clint clenched his teeth but offered no further comment as they got into the car. When the radio station began doing a news update, Clint punched it over to the jazz station. Jenny rolled her eyes. Clint didn’t care. It was too beautiful out to listen to the depressing news.
Driving around Denver on a clear April day was an experience everyone should have. Things may be in temporary turmoil on the coasts, but not here a mile above sea level. Clint marveled at the picturesque setting of this fine spring morning as he turned from street to street. A lush canopy made of a half-dozen tree varieties draped much of the city. The majestic Rockies on the western horizon were still topped by a pure white blanket indistinguishable in places from an intermingling layer of puffy clouds. To the east, the plains forever stretched with spirited fields of grass so rich in color they redefined the meaning of green. Everywhere Clint looked, blooming flowers played temporary host to wayfaring butterflies and hummingbirds.
“I sure hope this flu thing gets under control soon,” Clint said as they approached the Home Depot parking lot. “The Rockies are supposed to have a play-off contending team this year. Traded for some good pitchers in the off-season. Now they’ve delayed the whole rest of the season at least a month. Stupid CDC. I think they’re overreacting. Watching baseball gives everyone something positive to focus on—plus it makes us feel normal.”
“Oh, honey. I’m sure you can find something else to have on in the background when you take your naps. Maybe that old movie station.”
“I’ve told you a million times, my eyes being closed doesn’t mean I’m sleeping. I like …listening to the games, and when something happens I open them.”
“Then snoring must not mean you’re sleeping, either. Wow, look at this place. Quite the madhouse.”
She was right. Home Depot was busy. The parking lot was full of customers pushing carts of different sizes. A lot of folks must have been starting small construction projects, as they were wheeling out lumber and piping in notable quantities. Clint had to park in the far corner of the lot.
It was even busier on the inside. The customers all seemed to be in a hurry, scurrying about and frequently bumping into each other without apologizing. Clint never saw so many empty shelves and bins here. They managed to get the attention of one of the employees in the lighting section.
“Here you go,” he said, “A four-foot fluorescent light fixture plus two T12 bulbs. Last one.”
“Are they hard to install?” Jenny asked.
“That depends. Are you handy?” The employee looked at Clint.
“I’m an engineer.”
“Great.”
“A software engineer,” Jenny said.
“Oh. Well, I’m sure you can find some YouTube videos. Is there anything else?” He looked behind them at several additional sets of customers who were acting like they needed help.
“Where can I find facemasks?” Clint asked. Jenny gave him a curious look.
The Home Depot guy shook his head. “We’re cleaned out of those. Rubber gloves, too. Sorry.” He stepped over to a different couple.
“What did you want a facemask for?” Jenny asked when they were back in the car. “There can’t be much dust from changing a light fixture. Please tell me it’s not because of something Jake said on the phone.”
Clint tried not to grin. He failed.
“I knew it.”
“He might have a point, Jen. It seems a wise precaution. Plenty of others must be thinking the same thing. Some people in church today wore them. And the store was, after all, out of them.”
“Uh-huh. You know I’ll divorce you if you turn into your brother. Always remember that.”
“I’ll divorce myself first.”
The parking lot of the Cherry Creek mall was a stark contrast to that of Home Depot. Clint couldn’t remember it ever looking this empty. He parked close to the main entrance.
A card table was set up before the front doors with three people sitting behind it. Clint thought they looked like nurses. One of them walked around to detain him and Jenny before they could enter the mall.
“Free gloves and facemasks,” she said. “We recommend wearing them.”
Jenny looked back and forth between the nurse and the table several times. “Why?” she finally asked. “Is there some health hazard in the mall?”
“It’s a high-traffic public venue. We at the Colorado Public Health Alliance are working in compliance with the CDC’s state appeals in helping stem the further spread of the pandemic. There’s no charge.”
“I’ll get us a couple, honey.” Clint went over to the table.
Inside the mall, Jenny shoved her mask and gloves in her purse. Clint decided to wear his. He wished Jenny would, too, but she didn’t want to “look like a dork” or mess up her hair. She had herself a good laugh after Clint put his on.
Clint didn’t feel so stupid when he noticed half the people in the mall also wearing them. Then they passed the newsstand, where someone coughed—who instantly drew the attention of everyone around him. The cougher had no mask on. Several people scattered from the spot. A mother pulled her little boy close and hurried away before stopping to adjust her child’s mask. Apparently, coughing in public was now an ostracizing event.
Jenny wanted to go into a department store. The woman’s clothing section was on the same floor as electronics, so Clint meandered over to the television section. Several people had gathered around a set where a buxom female reporter was talking in an elevated voice. Clint’s first instinct was to go somewhere else, but he fought off that urge and sidled close enough to see what was happening.
“Here she is now,” the reporter said. She stepped out of the way of the camera to reveal a platform with a podium behind her. A different voice then announced the
Secretary of Health and Human Services
of the United States of America. Subdued applause quickly faded as the Secretary came to the podium and put on her glasses.
“Good afternoon. At the request of the President and Vice President, I’d like to announce the latest steps being taken in the fight against the pandemic—specifically, the H5N1 avian flu problem that is threatening our country, as well as the rest of the world. Roughly seventy thousand cases of this new lethal strain have now been positively identified here in the states.”
Murmurs in the crowd. The Secretary continued.
“Under the Commerce Clause of the U.S. Constitution, the Center for Disease Control has invoked its authority for isolation and quarantine of all such cases. While the U.S. death toll to date from this specific strain is under 25,000, it is expected to rise significantly. Our country is now at a state of emergency. In accordance with section 361 of the Public Health Service Act, I am asking the governors of each state to call up the National Guard and submit their authority to the Center for Disease Control, who will coordinate the procedures necessary for containing the further spreading of the virus among our population.”