The Things That Keep Us Here (9 page)

“But she came over,” Kate protested. “What were we supposed to do, tell her to go away?”

“You’re always telling us to be nice to people.” Maddie’s eyes shone with tears.

“I know.” Ann pulled her girls close. “But things are different now. We just can’t be near other people.” Then she thought of Maddie stretching out her hands toward Jodi and her blood chilled. “She wasn’t coughing, was she? Go wash your hands.”

“God, Mom.” Kate pulled away. “Why do you
always
have to be like this?”

THIRTEEN

I
T WAS HERE
.

Who would have predicted Minnesota? Peter would have thought Los Angeles, New York, Texas, somewhere along America’s vulnerable coastlines. But instead of lapping at the shores, the virus had reached over the borders and struck right into the heartland of America.

Since the special report last night, Peter had been on the CDC, WHO, PubMed, and PandemicFlu websites, obsessively clicking to refresh. He hadn’t slept since the announcement, staying up instead to check email, make phone calls, and watch news bulletins on TV. There’d been a marathon of information exchanges, but nothing new had been reported.

The two cases had been confirmed more than twenty-four hours ago, and both patients were holding their own. No additional cases had been reported, which was surprising and could be saying something about the nature of this particular virus. It might be weakening.

“Peter?”

He’d like to run those samples he’d collected from that second die-off. Who knew? Maybe the link was hidden there. The strain might have mutated to become less virulent. It was a remote possibility, true, but still a possibility. He needed only to get into his lab for a few hours a couple of days in a row. What was the danger?

“Peter.”

The way he figured it, he had a fifty-fifty chance of getting into the building. If Hank was on duty, forget it. But the man had to sleep sometime. So if it was Arnold, he was golden. Arnold didn’t even look at the name tags. He was more interested in his
Sports Illustrated
and quizzing passersby about the football teams’ bowl chances.

He realized Shazia had skewed in her chair to face him. “Sorry. What was that?”

She turned her laptop so he could read the screen.

HE SMELLED DINNER COOKING BEFORE HE WAS HALFWAY
down the hall.

The girls were in the family room, Maddie with a sketch pad propped across her bent knees, Kate hunched over her laptop, iPod wires trailing from her ears.

Maddie spotted him immediately. She scooted to a kneeling position so she could look at him over the back of the sofa. “Daddy, can Hannah come over?”

“Why don’t you go over there?” Kate said. “In fact,
stay
over there.”

Maddie made a face at her sister, then turned her attention back to him. “Come on, Daddy, please. I bet Cindy and Sarah are together.”

“No, Maddie,” he said. “I’m sorry. We’ve talked about that.”

She turned around and slumped in her seat.

He rested his hand on the top of Maddie’s head. “Where’s your mom?”

“In the garage.”

He found Ann rummaging around in the tall metal tool chest. Beside her stood the freezer stuffed with the groceries she’d bought the other night and the shelving unit stacked with cans and boxes.

He watched her as she picked up first one thing, then another. “Looking for something?”

“A screwdriver.”

He reached up to the Peg-Board mounted on the wall, unhooked the tool, and handed it to her. “What are you doing?”

“Taking down the trampoline.”

He felt a small twinge. He’d been the one to give it to the girls. “I should do that.”

She nodded and set down the screwdriver. “Anything new?” She’d been quiet since hearing the news last night, keeping her thoughts to herself. Ann was like that. She held tightly on to the things that worried her most.

“Tennessee just reported a pintail die-off.”

“What about Minnesota? Any more cases?”

“None that I’ve heard of.”

“That’s good.” She began collecting the girls’ soccer balls and tennis rackets and fitting them into the big bin beneath his old tool bench.

She was hoping for a miracle. Well, weren’t they all? “Tennessee thinks it’s high-pathogenic.” He fished out a tennis ball from behind the gardening supplies and tossed it into the bin.

“So it’s slowed down in humans but picked up in birds?”

She was quick. He’d always liked that about her. The mower looked rusty. Its blade probably needed sharpening, too. “Different strains. It’d be interesting to figure out what’s happening in birds. It might be able to help us identify how the human variant’s changing. Ohio and Tennessee are both on the Mississippi flyway. It could be that all these die-offs are related.”

“What die-offs?”

That’s right. She didn’t know. “There were two up north recently, a day apart.”

Just more than a week ago. It didn’t seem possible. He opened the stepladder and lifted first Kate’s bike, then Maddie’s, to the hooks screwed into the rafters.

“As bad as that botulism one?” She was remembering that first die-off, years before.

“Worse, if you can believe it.” He climbed down and dusted off his hands. “I analyzed the first batch but got kicked out of the lab before I could get to the second one. Those samples could tell us a lot. The best thing would be to compare them with Tennessee’s results.”

She put her hands on her hips and sighed. “You’re thinking of going in, aren’t you?”

He heard the longing in her voice. This had been a break for her, coming out here for a change instead of roaming around inside the house. The girls weren’t the only ones getting restless. “Want to take a walk?”

IT FELT GOOD TO BE STRIDING ALONG IN THE COLD. PETER
scanned the bright, cloudless sky. Not a duck or goose in sight. But the weather was changing. He could feel the air gathering itself up. “They predicting snow?”

“Tomorrow.”

“The girls will be happy.”

He glanced at Ann walking beside him. He could tell her mind was a million miles away. “Dinner looks good.”

“It won’t be the same without turkey.”

“Chicken’s close enough.”

“I guess. But there won’t be any leftovers.”

A real loss. He loved Ann’s open-face turkey sandwiches the day after Thanksgiving almost as much as he loved the huge meal itself. “I should try the stores again. Maybe something will be open.” Though he didn’t hold out much hope. Now that H5N1 was here, all bets were off.

“I don’t get it. Beth says her Safeway’s open.”

“Luck of the draw.”

“Some luck.”

Here was where the Hummer dealer lived, Stan Fox. Peter had to admit he hadn’t missed being wakened early on Saturday mornings by the roar of his lawnmower. The man was in his yard now, looping green strands of Christmas lights over his shrubs. The aroma of cooked meat wafted past. Someone was barbecuing.

“Shazia’s cousin emailed her last night,” he said.

“Does she know why Shazia’s parents haven’t called?”

“Sounds like they’re on the move.”

She took that in, then said, “I’m worried about Shazia. She’s not eating.”

“Of course she is.”

“Not really. She skips breakfast and she just nibbles at her dinner. Maybe she’s vegetarian or something, and is too polite to say anything.”

He knew Shazia wasn’t a vegetarian. They’d split a million tuna subs. “I’ll talk to her.”

They paused to let a car pull into a driveway, one he’d never seen before. “The Guarnieris get a new car?”

“Not that I know of.”

Brake lights flared, then the trunk popped ajar. The engine silenced and doors swung open. Al and Sue got out, looking rumpled and tired. Al had put on some weight, Peter saw, and Sue had done something different with her hair. It stood up in reddish tufts all about her head.

“Hey, Al.” It felt awkward not striding forward to shake the fellow’s hand. “Hi, Sue.”

“Brooks,” Al said. “Good to see you.”

The four of them stood there looking at one another, keenly aware of the wide grassy strip stretched between them. “How was Las Vegas?” Ann said.

Al reached into the trunk and pulled out a set of suitcases. “Sue won a couple hundred bucks. We took in a show. Then WHO made that announcement and everything went to hell. The airport was a zoo. People everywhere and not a single open parking space.”

“You drove the whole way back?” Peter said.

“Straight through.” Sue reached up to fluff her hair with her fingertips. “We were afraid to stop.”

“Got stuck in Oklahoma. Ran out of gas and couldn’t find a station open. Highway patrol had to rescue us.” Al slammed the trunk lid.

Sue shook her head. “Wait until the rental car company finds out we still have their car. I don’t know how we’re going to get it back to them.”

Al looked down at his wife and put an arm around her, drawing her close. He kissed the top of her head. “Don’t you worry, Susie Q. They’ll get their money.”

“I suppose.”

The front door opened and Jodi came running out. “Mommy! Daddy! Mommy!”

She flung herself at Sue, who gathered her close, laughing. “My goodness. What are you doing still in your pajamas? And why aren’t you wearing any shoes?”

Al wagged a playful finger at his daughter. “Well, now that we’re back, young lady, you’re going to have to toe the line. No more sleeping until noon. No more ice cream for breakfast.”

Jodi giggled and tugged at her father’s arm. “What did you get me?”

“Careful, careful,” Al said. “Come on. We got something for Nana and Poppa, too.”

Peter frowned, watching the three of them. He couldn’t help it. He thought of all those miles Al and Sue had traveled, all the ways they could have come in contact with the virus.

“Jodi’s one of my students now,” Ann told him as Jodi and her parents trooped up the front walk to where the grandparents stood waiting.

“Really?”

“She’s not a very popular kid. I’ve encouraged Maddie to be kind to her, but Jodi’s tough. I can’t really blame Maddie for wanting to keep her distance.”

“How is teaching going? Is it as bad as you thought it might be?”

She glanced at him with an expression of surprise. He looked back at her. Of course he’d remember she was anxious about the whole business. He’d worried about it, too, for her sake.

“It’s been all right,” she answered. “Teaching isn’t the same as doing.”

They came to that big white house with all the columns. “Does that boy still live here, the one who used to stand on the sidewalk and yell for Maddie?”

“Now he’s sticking poems in the mailbox.”

“Sounds like I’d better have a talk with him.”

“Well, here’s your chance.”

The garage door was gliding up. A car backed out, the father driving, the wife sitting beside him. Peter and Ann stopped short of the concrete apron. Suitcases were strapped to the top of the vehicle. The little Marlon Brando was in back. He pressed his face to the glass and stared at them.

“I wonder where they’re going,” Ann said.

“Disneyland.”

“Really?” Ann looked at him quizzically. “How do you know?” He shrugged. “Why not? The lines have got to be really short right now.”

She made a face at him. “Ha, ha.”

He felt pleased that he’d dragged a smile from her. They passed Singh’s house. The doctor was on the front porch, picking up his newspaper and shaking off the condensation.

“How’s it going?” Peter said.

“Oh, hello, Brooks. Good to see you.” Singh nodded at Ann. “Actually, it’s been quite busy, as you can imagine. I’ve been called in to staff the ER.” He pulled off the plastic bag from around the paper. “Well, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned and went into his house.

“He’s not an ER doc, is he?” Ann asked.

“I think that’s right. I guess the hospitals are being overrun with people worried that every sniffle’s the flu.”

Walter Finn marched toward them, Barney trotting alongside. The man looked as though he were ready for mortal combat, with that heavy black thing across his lower face. He even had thick, rubber-rimmed goggles balanced on his nose. He glanced up, then yanked the leash and swerved across the street, dragging the dog with him and keeping his face averted as though eye contact might be dangerous. Barney grinned at them as he was tugged across the asphalt to the opposite curb.

Peter stared after him. “He looks like Dr. Demento.”

Another brief smile from her. “They’re saying respiratory masks won’t do any good.”

“There’s some controversy about that. The standard N95 filters out anything bigger than .3 microns, but an influenza virus can be as small as .08. This one, though, seems to be holding at .5.”

She looked over at him, then shrugged.

“You talk to your folks today?” Peter asked.

“Beth says the hotel’s completely empty. She’s really worried they’re going to start laying people off.”

“She’ll be all right. Your sister’s socked away every nickel she’s made.”

“It’s just that she’s worked so hard to get where she is.”

“How’s your dad’s chemo going?” He’d hated learning about it months after the fact. The old guy had always been good to him.

“He’s got five more weeks of treatment. Then we’ll know if it’s done any good.”

“He’s a fighter. He’ll beat this thing.”

Ann scuffed her shoes through the crumpled leaves. She had her hands jammed in her coat pockets. Her cheeks were pink, her hair bright in the sunlight. They used to love taking walks. Most of their courtship had been conducted on Georgetown’s buckled sidewalks and the dirt paths that wound alongside the Potomac.

The sun was going down, hitting windowpanes and the chrome of a parked car. Two teenagers were shooting hoops in their driveway. One boy set up the ball and threw. “Loser,” the other boy taunted as the ball missed the basket.

“Peter?”

“Hmm?”

“Has Maddie ever talked about William to you?” Where had that come from? He glanced at her, but she was watching the basketball players. “No.”

“You never told her what happened?”

“Not specifically.” There had been no reason at all to delve into that. Where was Ann going with this? “Why?” Ann stopped. He stopped, too.

“She said something to Hannah. I had no idea she’d been thinking about it. I don’t know if I should say something to her or not.”

“I wouldn’t. Let her bring it up. Otherwise she’ll think there’s something to it.”

She shot him a look. “There
is
something to it.”

But there didn’t have to be. “That’s not what I meant, Ann. I’m sure she’s all right. It’s normal for kids her age to have questions.”