“I have a pack of gum in my pocket,” Ed said.
“Is it sugarless?”
“Probably,” Ed replied.
“You can keep it. No nutritional value. You’ll burn up more calories chewing it,” he said, smiling wryly at Ed.
Nicole Bartlett walked in their direction, handing a sheet of paper to everyone in the crowd.
“I’d take a pass on touching one of those sheets,” he said to the group as she approached.
“Hey, Nicki,” Alex said, bracing for her excessive perkiness.
“Hey, guys. Thanks for coming to the meeting. This is an agenda and some topic ideas. You can also take notes on it. Did you bring any pens?” she asked, holding the sheets in front of her.
“No, I didn’t think we’d need pens,” Ed offered, as Alex politely waived away her handouts.
“No worries. We have some extras floating around, though you’ll probably have to share one. Good to see you guys. Hey, you might want to move up closer.”
As she walked to the next group, Ed chimed in. “Wow, she’s unbelievably skinny.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of that going around the neighborhood,” Alex commented.
“Sam’s definitely noticed, and she’d like to figure out how to catch whatever they’ve got,” Ed said, laughing.
“There’s a direct correlation between staying home and emaciation, which I don’t quite understand. I’ve spent plenty of time home with kids, and all I want to do on those days is eat,” Alex said.
“I still haven’t recovered from the toddler years,” Ed laughed again, grabbing his slightly bulging stomach.
“I saw your wedding photos, Ed, and I hate to break it to you, but…” Alex said, raising his shoulders.
“Thanks. At least I didn’t deteriorate. Three kids,” he said, flexing his right arm in an overly dramatic muscle pose.
Alex spotted Paul and Nancy Cooper in the back row of seats, with their chocolate lab Max.
“Gentlemen, I’m gonna say hi to Paul and Nancy. Keep my spot in the back,” he said to Ed and Derek.
Ed nodded, and Alex walked up behind the Coopers. Stephanie and Eric Bishop were seated next to the Coopers, and the Bishops’ kids, Hunter and Evan, were playing soccer with the other kids on the lawn. Hunter was in the same class as Emily, though Alex rarely heard her talk about him.
“You didn’t bring me any snacks? How disappointing,” he said, laying his left hand on Paul’s shoulder. “But you did bring my good friend Max.”
Both Paul and Nancy turned around as Alex kneeled down to hug Max. He wondered if hugging Max was such a good idea and briefly contemplated his chance of contracting the flu from contact with a domestic pet. He wasn’t really sure, but made a mental note to research the topic on the internet. Offhand, he couldn’t imagine any reason why the flu could not be transferred from a dog’s fur to his hand.
“Hey, Alex. We weren’t sure you’d show up. Figured you’d be off limits by now,” Paul said.
Alex stood up from petting Max. “Believe me, I tried to get out of it,” he replied, and Stephanie Bishop gave him a strained look. He returned a slightly less strained smile.
“Why wouldn’t you want to be here?” she asked, annoyed.
“It’s not a good idea for all of us to come together in one place, when there’s a highly contagious flu virus spreading around Scarborough,” he said softly, shrugging his shoulders.
“I don’t think anyone’s going to catch the flu at this meeting,” Eric said. “The whole point of getting together is to figure out how we can all help each other.”
“Sounds great, but the best way for us to help each other is to stay away from each other. Hey, I’ll catch you guys later,” he said to Paul and Nancy.
“See ya, Alex,” they said in unison.
Alex caught Paul’s glance. Paul made a face signaling that he had no idea why Eric and Stephanie had acted so oddly. Alex walked back to Derek and Ed, who were now joined by Jamie, Mary Thompson, and John Anderson. He saw a few stragglers—Dave Santos and Charlie Thornton—coming in from the north side of the loop. Charlie waved to Alex, and Alex returned the wave, smiling. Alex stood next to Ed, glad that he didn’t have to actively evade Jamie, who was still shivering under several layers of clothing.
Derek fidgeted and looked uncomfortable standing next to her.
“Here comes Charlie,” Alex whispered to Ed.
Ed glanced over at Charlie. “I think he’s going to stand by us. Have you talked to him lately?”
“Not since he interrogated me by the woodpile. Nancy Cooper said she heard him ranting and raving in his driveway last week,” Alex said quietly.
“You know who else is a loose cannon? Todd. I’ve heard him screaming a lot lately. Screaming at his wife, kicking his car, knocking things around his garage. Every day something’s going on over there,” Ed said.
“Really? Hold on, here comes Charlie,” Alex whispered. “Hey, Charlie,” he said enthusiastically, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets.
“Can you believe what’s going on in this country? Unreal if you ask me. I can’t believe the government let it get this bad. Food rationing?” Charlie ranted, his face turning red.
“Take it easy, man, you’re gonna explode,” Alex said.
“Take it easy? That’s the last thing any of us can afford to do. What do you think this little meeting’s all about?” he asked. Before anyone could respond, he continued. “I’ll bet this is an attempt at a little socialist share the wealth program…for those that haven’t prepared over the past few weeks.”
Charlie was in rare form, clearly pumped up on something.
“Everybody, if you could grab a seat, or pull it in as tight as possible here, we’ll get this started,” Sarah Quinn said.
Nicki Bartlett and Laura Burton quickly moved to stand near Sarah behind the folding table. The kids continued to play on the lawn as the adults not seated in the makeshift auditorium started to crowd both sides of the seating.
From his quick glance around, he could tell that most households were represented. He couldn’t spot Phil or Julia Rhodes, which was odd, since he’d seen Phil grab the newspaper that morning. With two kids in college and one in high school, he couldn’t imagine why at least one of them wouldn’t be here.
Sarah looked ready to start the meeting.
“Okay, everyone, we’re going to get this started. First of all, thank you for coming together at such short notice. We’ve always pulled together as a neighborhood in the past, so when Nicki found out that the Scarborough schools would be closed this week…”
The group huddled on the Quinns’ driveway erupted into a cacophony of whispers.
“Is that confirmed?” Todd asked incredulously.
“Yes. One of Jack’s colleagues at the diabetes center is on the school board, and he confirmed that Friday was the last day,” Nicole answered.
Sarah continued, “Anyway, Nicki called me right away to see what I was going to do with my kids during the week and to ask if she could help out. This got me thinking that everyone in the neighborhood is facing the same challenge. Most of us have school-aged kids, and few of us can afford to quit our jobs, when this might only last a few weeks.”
“So we got together and started talking about the daycare issue. Then we realized that daycare wasn’t going to be the only problem out there. It’s no secret that the stores are rationing food, and who knows how long the food will last? Then we started reading the CDC website and found some links to articles about how essential services might be disrupted if things get really bad. Stuff like electricity, water, hospital service, phones, cable—”
“The electricity isn’t going to fail. A lot of experts are saying that this whole thing is likely to pass in a few weeks,” Mike Lynch interrupted.
“What a jackass,” Charlie whispered into Alex’s ear.
“Well, the articles only mentioned that it could happen, but it didn’t go into any details,” Sarah said, loo
king to Laura for support.
Jamie sneezed next to Derek, who glanced at Alex and Ed nervously. Alex could tell he wanted to move away from her, but he didn’t.
“Hey, Sarah? May I say something about the electricity?” Alex offered.
“Thanks, Alex. Everyone, you all know Alex Fletcher,” she said, relieved.
Every face in the crowd turned to look at Alex. Most still looked friendly, though he detected a strange underlying current in the group. He couldn’t determine the general aura of the group, but it made him immediately uncomfortable, which was not a common feeling for him.
“Right. Anyway, so if the flu pandemic becomes widespread and attacks a large percentage of the population, then two things will happen. Either people will be unable to work because they’re sick or dead, or people will stop going to work because they don’t want to become sick or dead. It’s really that simple. This shortage of labor will affect every aspect of society, from policemen to doctors to truck drivers. If the trains can’t deliver coal to the electrical plants, then eventually the electrical system will fail. God knows it doesn’t take much to knock out one of those grids. And if a grid fails, who’s going to repair it? If the electricity fails, the water pressure is soon to follow. You can apply the same logic to nearly every essential service. They all run on electricity. Think about it, if a storm knocks out the power in the middle of the pandemic, who’s going to repair the lines? They can barely get the power back up with a full workforce.”
“Yeah, but the power plants keep an emergency supply on hand for just this kind of a situation. Same with the water systems and cable companies. They all have backup power capability,” Mike challenged.
“Sure they do. The power plants are required by law to maintain a six-week supply of coal on hand for emergencies, but these laws are rarely enforced, and the recent audits put the average emergency reserve supply for a power plant at about one and a half weeks. Compliance at all other levels is pretty much the same.”
“Thanks, Alex. So, the whole reason for us to get together is to figure out what challenges we might face, and how we can help each other out. Nicki has put together a few categories, and some sign-up sheets. Nicki?” Sarah said and handed her the microphone.
Nicole Bartlett took the microphone from Sarah and stepped around the folding table. She wore a tight-fitting quilted pink vest, a white skin-tight long-sleeve turtleneck, and a thin light purple knit cap with a pink tassel falling to the left side. Completing her look was a pair of skin-hugging dark blue jeans, which Alex had seen before in the youth pages of the latest LL Bean catalogue.
“Okay, I’m going to get started on my little portion. Thank you all again for braving the cold weather,” she said, executing a fake shiver.
“So, what I have done is put together some categories where we can all help out. I’ve made sign-up lists for each one, and if we come up with any more categories, I’ll make another list.
“First, I think it would be awesome if everyone could update their contact information. You don’t have to do it here. You can send me an email with your home and cell phone numbers. My email address is on the sheet I handed out. The phone list I have is a few years old, and we have some new neighbors, so it’s important for everyone to update this. Please make sure you put your cell phones on the list, too, in case the power goes out. I know a lot of us have digital phone service, which is useless without the power.
“All right, the first issue which many of us will face is daycare. Most of us will have to make alternate daycare arrangements or take time off from work,” she said in a tone indicating that she might be in that same position.
“Why did she say that like she’ll be needing daycare, too? She doesn’t work,” Alex whispered to Ed.
“Probably because she’s always had her kids in daycare, preschool, or public school. She had her first two kids in daycare at least three full days a week before they started school,” Ed whispered back.
“So, the daycare list is for both those who will need daycare and those who will be home and can help provide daycare services for their neighbors. Please fill in the times you need covered, how many kids, anything like that. If you can open up your home to help, please note your availability. Once we get all of the names and information, we’ll put them together and try to find matches. We can even use this information in case someone in your family gets the flu, and you need to leave the house to take that person to get treatment. That way, you don’t have to drag the entire family out where they could get sick.”
Alex surveyed the crowd and saw that the idea was popular, which didn’t surprise him considering the number of dual-income families in the neighborhood. He shook his head and leaned over to Ed. “So, are you going to volunteer to watch Jamie’s kids while she takes her flu- ridden husband to the hospital? Or let your kids stay at Jamie’s while you head out to the office? This has bad idea written all over it,” he whispered.
“I agree,” Ed responded.
“The next list is for volunteers to take sick people to doctor’s appointments or the hospital. If both parents are sick and a child needs to be seen by a doctor, volunteers from this list would help out,” she said, smiling.
“This is right from the manual of how to guarantee a 100% infection rate in your neighborhood,” Alex whispered to Ed, who let out a loud guffaw, snorted, and quickly contained himself.
Several heads turned in their direction, including Stephanie Bishop, who shook her head and frowned, and turned to say something to her husband. Eric Bishop looked back at them, also frowning.
“Did you have something to add?” Laura Burton boomed, the other self-appointed pandemic coordinator.
Alex shook his head. “Nope. I already gave my opinion. Everyone needs to stay away from each other or we risk inflecting the entire neighborhood.”
Most heads returned to Nicki, though Mike Lynch drew out his glare a little longer than necessary.
“The next topic, which was suggested by Todd Perry, deals with basic necessities and supplies. As we are all painfully aware, food and other basic survival needs are in short supply at the stores. I tried to put together just one emergency kit earlier in the week and couldn’t find even a quarter of the things needed. CVS and RiteAid are wiped out daily. Same story with all of the hardware stores. Everyone is out there trying to assemble their own emergency stockpile from the federal disaster checklist.”
“I got all my stuff,” Charlie Thornton whispered, who had drifted over to Alex’s right side during Nicki’s speech. “Got it all the week before last. You’re smart to hide your firewood in the garage. I didn’t know what to make of it when I talked to you. I knew you were up to something, then it suddenly hit me. Of course. I moved all of mine in a few days later. I have to thank you. It got me thinking about the whole situation. I went on a few of the NRA websites, found a ton of survival information, and I got a jump start on those checklists. While everyone else was waiting in line for groceries, I spent the better part of three days buying up supplies and dried food, MREs from the surplus stores, whatever I could get my hands on. I bet you have the same thing over there,” he whispered with glee.
“I might have some supplies on hand,” he said, studying Charlie’s face.
“…so, if you could list on this sheet what supplies or food you have on hand, we can create sort of our own Durham Road stockpile. If someone needs a certain item, then they can get it, as long as they’ve put into the stockpile themselves. It’s kind of like a swap shop idea,” Nicki was saying.
“I don’t know. How would we manage this stockpile? Would it be located in one place? Or just a list of who has what and you can trade? It sounds kind of complicated, and…I don’t know,” Beverly Silva said.
A majority of the crowd backed her sentiment, and there was considerable protest from all corners of the driveway. Alex focused on Todd, whose face had turned a few shades redder since Beverly opened her mouth.
“Yeah, I don’t feel comfor
table taking what I have and putting it in a central location. Is that what you’re suggesting?” Jamie McDaniels asked, who was visibly shivering.
“Uh, it’s just an idea, but if we all have an idea of how much food is available, then…well, we can work on a system,” Nicki said.
“The idea isn’t to start a communal soup kitchen, but like Nicki said, it would help to get an idea of what we have here if times get really tough,” Laura Burton said, looking to Sarah Quinn for confirmation.
Oddly enough, Sarah Quinn did not look pleased by this agenda item. As one of the lead coordinators, Alex had expected her to support the idea, but she appeared to have suddenly grasped the true meaning of the concept’s design—that everyone else in the neighborhood would know exactly how much food she had on hand, and that she’d be expected to share some of that food in the very near future. Alex remembered that Sarah was one of the first people on the block to head to the Hannigan’s when the massive food lines began forming.
“We can revisit this at the next meeting after everyone has had time to think about it. It’s a lot to ask, given the fact that none of us are in great shape when it comes to food. If you want to put this information down now on the sheet, you’re encouraged to do so,” Sarah dodged.
He could tell that the meeting was about to break apart on its own. The last agenda item had hit everyone deeply, and it was clear that nobody relished the idea of giving up any of their food. Alex saw Todd stirring in his seat.
“Can I say something here?” Todd asked, standing and facing most of the crowd on the driveway. “I’m not sure what everyone’s problem is with sharing food. To be honest, it seems a bit selfish to me, and frankly, I’m surprised. We’ve had parties at our house over the years, and we’ve always put out a nice spread for everyone. We’re all neighbors, right?” he asked, his face reaching a deep red color.
“Yeah, but that’s what you do when you host a party,” Michelle Hayes said cynically. “This is a bit different. I agree with Beverly and Jamie. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want any of you knowing how much food I have in my house. That’s my family’s business.”
THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5 Page 12