by Jay Vielle
“Isn’t that sunrise beautiful?” asked Wendy, in a slightly raspy whisper. Jake looked out the window, then down at his sleeping sons, then over at Wendy. The sun was reflecting in her face, which had on it a peaceful smile that was as full of hope as I was. His gaze settled on her without her noticing him, her eyes still on the river.
“Beautiful,” Jake said, staring at Wendy. “Just beautiful.”
Then Jake and I locked eyes, and he turned away suddenly.
“Morning Jake,” I said, smiling like the cat who’d caught the canary.
“Morning princess,” said Jake. “Sleep okay, or was there a pea on your mattress to make it uncomfortable?”
“If there was any pee on the mattress, it came from your ancient incontinent loins, you old badger,” I said with a grin.
“You two. Still at it,” said Wendy, smiling at us.
“He started it,” I said. Jake got up and limped over to the bathroom, trying not to look like he was in pain. I had noticed all last week how he moved first thing in the morning, and it was obvious how much daily pain he was in. He always said mornings were the worst, and that as the day shook out, so did his limbs, joints, and muscles. But unlike most of the mornings last week, this one had Wendy waking up right next to him. I think he was anxious not to look too rough in front of her, and even more anxious not to look anxious in front of anyone else. I promised myself to bust his chops about it when no one else was around.
“Should we wake the boys?” asked Wendy.
“I’m gonna let Jake do that. They’re a little too big for me to fight this early on,” I said.
“Oh, I’ll do it,” Wendy said. She knelt down between the two sleeping boys. They were on their sides, back to one another, with just enough space for Wendy to get between them without stepping on them.
“God, these boys are tall,” she said. “I mean, I’ve seen them standing, but lying down they just look like all legs.”
“They are pretty big,” I said.
“It’s hard to see how Jake is their dad. I mean, there’s some resemblance in Tommy’s face, but neither one of them really look like him,” Wendy said.
“Have you seen Laura?” I asked.
“His wife?” Wendy asked. “No. Well, I mean, I saw her, um, on the news. I mean, like she is now.”
I nodded and made an overexaggerated frown face. “I hear you. That was hard to see.”
“I don’t even know her and it was hard to see,” she said.
“Laura’s tall and thin. Like Vinny. Tommy’s got a little more of Jake’s thickness. Big chest, broad shoulders. Jake always said his dad was tall, but he died long ago,” I said. “When Vinny fills out a little more, these two are going to be an imposing pair walking down the street.”
“They’re imposing now. And they’re not really very afraid of Jake, are they?” asked Wendy.
“Not in the least,” I said.
“How is that? I’ve seen him in action,” Wendy said.
“You’ve barely seen anything. I’ve literally seen him kill people. Like literally. Last week. He can be scary as hell. But no, they’re not intimidated by their dad in the least.”
“I guess when you’re NCAA wrestlers and you get this big, you’re not that easy to intimidate,” she said.
“That, and familiarity breeds contempt. They see Jake all the time. That intimidation factor wears off at home. In fact, Laura kind of runs the show. Those two are momma’s boys. Laura snaps her finger and they jump,” I said.
“Do you know her well?” Wendy asked.
“I’ve seen her plenty. I don’t know that I can say I really know her. I listen to Jake. He talks a little about her to me. I think that’s his main reason for befriending me,” I said.
“What do you mean?” Wendy asked.
“He’s a straight, crotchety, Ex-Marine and jock in his forties. I’m a gay Hispanic who knew him when I was a kid. We have nothing in common. But I think he can talk to me without guilt,” I said.
“Guilt?”
“You know how some men will befriend a female co-worker and get comfortable enough to tell them things?” I said.
“You’re the female co-worker?” asked Wendy.
“So to speak, yes. But without the guilt. If Jake had female friends at work that got too close, Laura would have a conniption. But he’s as straight as they come, so having a gay snarky friend is the best possible answer. He can unload his issues on me without fear of jealousy. I’m not a threat to steal him, so Laura doesn’t complain. I’m the perfect compadre,” I said.
“You think he became friends with you so you could be his amateur therapist?” asked Wendy.
“Not in so many words, and in no way do I think it was premeditated. I think it was an afterthought. We’d chat at lunch every now and then, and he felt comfortable after a while. At first some of the other teachers would give him shit about his new boyfriend. Dropped a few homophobic jokes on him, some colorful language. He laughed with them at first, but after they persisted, he told them to back the fuck off or he would help them,” I said.
“Help them?” she queried.
“Help them back the fuck off,” I said laughing.
“Well, he’s an intriguing guy,” Wendy said. “You know, in other circumstances,” she began.
I cut her off before she could finish the sentence. “Other circumstances—you mean circumstances other than World War III, and a mutate attack of the jealous wife?” I asked. “Honey, be careful with this. I can see you’re attracted. To be honest, so can the boys. You’re truly an amazing woman from what I’ve gathered so far. I like you. You have a good heart, and a good head, and you don’t seem to be afraid of anything. That’s a hell of a combination in any one person. But this is some weird as shit territory we’re in. These boys are conflicted enough as it is, and I know Jake is too.”
“Jake’s conflicted?” she asked.
“Are you kidding me? Girl, he may try to hide it from the boys, but I’ve known him long enough that you’re giving him ulcers. He and Laura have been on shaky ground for a few years. He wants to do the right thing, but I’ve heard how he feels day to day about that. And here you come, Ms. Perfect, sweeping into his life during a period when he is trying to do right and save his wife from whatever the fuck she is, with little to no hope that she’ll recover, while not showing that hopelessness to his sons. Meanwhile, the girl he can’t take his eyes off or hide his fascination about is literally helping him muddy his own waters,” I ranted.
“Muddy?” she started.
“Wendy—don’t you see? He doesn’t know which way to go with his marriage, and bombs drop from World War III and literally make his decision for him. And despite his self-inflicted guilt, he realizes he couldn’t do anything to save her. He spends a week physically rescuing the only family he has left, trying to fend off guilt that the boys make him feel all over again. Then you enter the picture, and quite possibly give him the only positive feelings he’s had all week. He has to hide those feelings from his sons, who already put unnecessary and inaccurate blame on him for what they think is the death of his mother. And though he agrees to try and look for her with them, he knows sadly that one part of his life is over, and there’s probably some relief with that closure. And then the goddamn television crew spots her leading mutates in D.C. and here we are on this crazy quest. I mean, it’s a good, honorable quest, but we have no plan for what happens if we do find her. It’s great that we have this NIH researcher who knows more about it than anyone else, but am I wrong in that we have no plan whatsoever?”
“Eddie, you’re digressing,” Wendy said.
“Andy another thing,” I began. “What? Oh. Well, yes, okay maybe. What was I saying?”
“You were trying nicely to tell me to back off a little. I get it. I’m not completely devoid of an emotional I.Q. And I also get subtlety. I’m not trying to conflict Jake. And I won’t muddy the waters. But if I come across thankful that he rescued me twice--maybe three
times--from certain death in the past week, well I’m not sorry. I may find him attractive, sure, and some of that may come from the whole ‘damsel in distress-white knight thing,’ but I am not being irrational, I’m not a home wrecker, and while I appreciate your protective tendencies toward your friend, I’m not so dumb that I can’t read the ridiculous amount of obstacles, challenges and intricacies of this situation we’re in right now. You’re a good friend, Eddie, but I’m a big girl, and I don’t need a lecture. Okay?”
“Okay,” I stammered back weakly.
“Maybe that’ll teach you to be so nosy, princess,” said Jake suddenly, appearing out of nowhere from the hallway.
“How long have you been there?” I asked.
“Long enough,” Jake said. “So are you gonna wake those lunkheads or do I have to?” he asked Wendy.
I’m pretty sure I saw her blush, make a cringing smiley face my direction, then gently turn towards Tommy and Vinny and start to shake them.
“Wake up guys,” she said. “Your dad is ready to get started.”
I went through my head the many ways that statement could be interpreted, given our context, and shook my head.
“Cold breakfast today, folks. Granola bars and water,” said Jake. “Eat up, get yourselves set, and we can leave within the half hour.”
“Top chef you are not,” I said back to Jake, reaching into my backpack for my granola bar.
The boys rose, went to the bathroom, splashed some water in their faces and started rummaging around in their own backpacks.
“Yo Tommy, I’ll trade you my oats and honey for a protein bar,” said Vinny.
“Done,” said Tommy, pulling out a Diet Coke from his bag.
“Where’d you get that?” I asked Tommy. Vinny answered for him.
“He hoards that stuff. He’s completely addicted. He’s probably got four more in the backpack. I don’t think he’s had another type of liquid since he was ten,” Vinny said.
“Shut up. I had water once when we went to Disney. And sweet tea from Bojangles on that same trip,” Tommy argued.
“Twice since age ten,” Vinny said. “I stand corrected.”
Jake rose, walked over to the big desk in the supervisor’s office, and spread out all of the maps he had. He looked at a few things, turned some pages, nodded to himself, and looked at the rest of us.
“When you’re finished eating, come on over here so I can tell you the plan,” said Jake.
“Oh, there’s a plan?” asked Wendy, looking at me with a mocking smile.
“Yes, Eddie, there was a plan all along,” Jake said smiling. I was mortified, because now I knew Jake must have heard everything I said to Wendy, and everything she said back. That also made me mortified for her as well. Awkward city, and I was the mayor. Jake, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying my discomfort.
“So Eddie, I think we need to start with you,” he said.
“Look, I’m sorry. I was freaking out, that’s all,” I said.
“No, not that. Your parents. I think this whole thing should start out with your parents,” Jake said.
“Oh, okay. Sorry. Why are we starting with my parents?” I asked.
“Because they’re the one thing we have the best lead on,” he said.
“All I know is that they’re in a bunker,” Eddie said. “That’s not much to go on.”
“You also said they were doing research in the Smithsonian, right?” Jake said. “There is a maze of tunnels underneath Washington D.C. all connecting the Smithsonian Museums. And there are like twenty of them. If there is something considered a bomb shelter, it’s most likely connected with the Smithsonian.”
“That’s smart,” Wendy said.
“It is,” I agreed.
“So with all of that maze, after a week, they’re either getting to know each other pretty well, or they’ve started to venture out by now. That’s to our advantage. We may run into someone who knows their whereabouts,” Jake continued.
“What about Mom?” asked Vinny.
“Hold on, I’m getting to that,” said Jake.
“Wendy, next thing we need to do is locate the Colonel. They may have stopped you at a roadside barricade, but this deep into Washington, they should open doors for you. We need to locate Ray,” Jake said.
“Why him next?” Tommy asked.
“Because he may have a thumb on the pulse of where the bands of mutates are and how they’re being handled,” Jake said. “And if he knows the Mom is among them, he may have the means to help us capture her.”
“Capture her?” said Tommy. “What the hell, Dad? Capture her? You make her seem like some kind of animal.”
“Patience, son. To the military, that might be how she’s considered. But knowing us personally as he does, if my hunch is right about his old-fashioned sense of honor, the Colonel will bend over backwards to try and help us. And if we want to find your mother, and maybe even cure her of her condition, then ‘capture’ is the right word. The army is probably using words like ‘eradicate’ otherwise.”
Tommy nodded back in silent agreement.
“Also smart,” said Wendy.
“Maybe,” Jake said. “There’s one thing that troubles me, and I think you’re the only one who might know, Wendy.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Well, technically the mutates are survivors of an explosive and radiation-powered airborne virus. Does that sound about right?” Jake asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“And this virus kills nearly everyone around it within minutes, yes?” he continued.
“Yes,” answered Wendy.
“Well correct me if I’m wrong—I’m just a history teacher and you’re the specialist on diseases, but doesn’t that mean that all of the mutates are essentially carriers of that virus?”
“Maybe. In theory, even among those with immunities, a virus can live for a while in asymptomatic carriers,” said Wendy. “We learned that during the whole coronavirus thing. But it depends on both the host and the virus. This was essentially a lab-created version of Ebola. We hadn’t had time to test how long it might live in an asymptomatic host. As quickly as this one kills—and it’s much faster than the naturally occurring Ebola we found in Africa--it may not last very long in an organism with immunity or antibodies.”
“May not?” I said.
“We can’t know for sure,” Wendy said.
“So what you’re saying is that while we’re trying to…capture Laura, we could essentially be signing our own death warrants?” I asked.
“Maybe. Yes, that’s a possibility,” she said.
“Jake, what do we do?” I asked.
“That’s why we need the Colonel. He may have access to personal protective equipment that’s up for a job at this level,” Jake said.
“You’re right. He probably will,” said Wendy.
“Where should we look for him?” Jake asked.
“The Pentagon,” Wendy said.
“I thought he said it was devastated,” Jake said.
“We both said we didn’t know. That’s the thing about this whole Cataclysm. This World War III. We don’t really know anything. We have hunches. But our communications sucks. The bombs took everything out, and it crippled us. Knocked us back like two centuries. But you’ve seen for yourself, things are starting to reboot. Some news made it on the television. Some broadcasts made it onto the Emergency Broadcast System. Some cell phones are starting to transmit messages. We don’t know. But if I had to guess, I’d say the Pentagon,” Wendy said.
Jake nodded. Then he went back to his maps, and put his finger on the spot where the Pentagon was.
“Sorry, Eddie. Change of plans,” said Jake.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“The Pentagon is right across the river from where we’re headed. Your parents, Laura, the main destination, all of that is in the National Mall. If we’re gonna head there, where the mutates are, we need to make sure we’re properly equippe
d,” said Jake.
“So, Colonel first?” asked Wendy.
“Colonel first,” said Jake.
CHAPTER 11
We packed up our backpacks, said goodbye to the National Arboretum Welcome Center, and mounted our bicycles. As we rode down the paved lanes toward the place on the Anacostia where we’d left our canoes, I looked around again. Flowers, trees, gardens, and those Greek columns in the field. I wished I had more time to explore this place. We always hear about what a cesspool Washington is, from the corrupt politicians to the sleezy lobbyists to the crime-ridden gang violence. But Washington is also a city that has so many things set aside that represent the beauty of our culture. We were riding through one now, and our ultimate goal was a collection of even more at the Smithsonian complex.
We put our bikes in the canoes again and set out. The weather was perfect. It was a late spring, early summer kind of day, and virtually no wind at all, which would make the canoeing easier.
“How far is it?” asked Vinny.
“About three miles,” said Jake. “The toughest part will be crossing the Potomac into the Pentagon. Pace yourselves. We’ll need a little extra arm power then to fight the current.”
In a little while, we could see Robert F. Kennedy Stadium, once the home of the Redskins, now the home of DC United’s soccer team. We paddled another half hour or so and went past the Anacostia Community Boathouse. Some of the local prep school teams like Gonzaga and Bishop Ireton had their crew teams operate out of there, according to their signage. As we moved farther down the river, more and more civilization appeared. Docks with larger, motor-powered boats were all up and down the river, as we paddled alongside water street and underneath several bridges.
We stopped briefly in front of Nationals Stadium. Jake suggested we catch our breaths, as we were about half way, but I knew that he used to play baseball when he was younger, and I think part of his choice to rest here was so that he could look at the stadium a while.