Although Jeff indulged in a steady ritual of pot smoking. I didn’t say a word. It made him feel better. Me, there wasn’t much that would make me feel emotionally better. It had been months since I had an adult beverage and I broke out that bottle of bourbon. I had made up my mind to slowly nurse that bottle. Even though alcohol caused dehydration, I didn’t care. I needed to feel numb.
We were out there a little while, and just before supper Bill came over for the wheelchair. Said, “Sorry about the baby’ then asked if we were gonna use it and when I said no, he took it. A few moments later he was placing belongings in it.
“Are you leaving?” I asked.
“Yeah, gonna walk when the sun is low,” He coughed. “Hopefully, someone will see me and get me. Give me a ride if I’m lucky. If not you’ll probably see me on the side of the road somewhere. I have plenty of water. There’s supposed to be several refugee stops between here and Glendale. Steady trucks helping move folks. That’s what I heard.”
“They aren’t letting sick people on the transport.”
“Not what I heard. Well, some transports are taking the sick. Maybe…you need to head out,” he said with a nod to Jeff.
Jeff softly laughed. “I’m gonna die on the highway. Or in some refugee camp. If I am still hanging on when they need to go, then they go.”
Bill grumbled. “You should go. And…” he then looked at me. “I’m not sick. This cough is part of some sort of bacterial infection. Millie said that’s what she had. Thinks we got it from the pool, the dog too. I wasn’t in there as long as they were. Neither was Tag, that’s why he’s not sick.”
I had to admit I did panic a moment about Tag and that pool, but he wasn’t sick. But I didn’t believe for one second Bill didn’t have that flu.
“Did Sam tell you about the refugee camps?” I asked. “He didn’t mention anything to me about them taking the sick.”
“I’m not sick,” he repeated then coughed. “No, I heard it myself. Been picking up transmissions on the old transistor since yesterday morning. It’s just a steady message, a repeated recording, but it’s something to go by.” He looked up to the sky. “I wouldn’t stay here much longer. They said those in the Palm Springs area should be gone before the eighteenth.”
“That’s four days. We’ll be gone.”
“That’s four days until the flames get here. I’m guessing the day before it won’t be habitable with the heat. So make sure you go.”
“We will.”
Bill bid his farewell and we wished him well on his journey. He was walking in the heat and he was over sixty. I truly hoped someone helped him and gave him a ride.
I thought about what he said and turned to Jeff. “Did you want to try and go?”
“And die running?” Jeff asked. “Nah…” He reached over and grabbed my hand. “But that should not stop you from going.”
“It’s not. We have plenty of gas. Josh siphoned a lot. We got enough to get us close to Phoenix for a transport. We may have to walk some, but we have time.”
“I won’t make walking…some. Heck, I won’t make walking at all.” He paused. “Tess, you think maybe there’s some truth in what Bill said. Maybe he has a bacterial infection after all.”
Before I could answer, I heard Dr. Stanley reply. “No. Bill has the flu. Millie had that flu. Sadly.” Dr. Stanley looked up the road to Bill who was moving along. “He’ll be gone in about a day and a half. If he’s not...then it’s not the flu.”
“Hell of a way to determine a diagnosis,” I said.
Dr. Stanley shrugged. “The best I can do. How are you two?”
“I’m okay,” I answered.
“Jeff?”
“Swell.”
“Hmm. Are you eating? Drinking?”
Jeff shook his head. “Not always. I don’t want them to waste water or food on me. I can’t keep it in.”
Dr. Stanley tilted his head. “If you didn’t look so bad, I’d wonder how sick you actually were.”
“It’s the weed talking,” Jeff said. “I’m stoned. I’ll have some water in a bit, that’s when I keep it down. What brings you by Doc?”
“I was able to find a car and it worked. Josh was very helpful in getting me gas,” he said. “I’ll be leaving.”
“When?” I asked.
“Not tomorrow, but first thing the next day. I want to catch a transport.”
“Reverend Ray?” I questioned. “Is he leaving too?”
“No. He’s staying, unless everyone passes, he will stay. Eight more sick refugees just got into town. I admire him for doing this. It’s noble. But I’m not noble.”
“You’re a lot nobler than you think you are,” I said. “You’ve stayed this long.”
He nodded once sadly. “Well, I’ll leave you be. I’ll check back on you tomorrow sometime. Just wanted to give you the heads up.” After turning and stepping from the porch, he stopped. “Tess, I know you want to stay behind with Jeff. But you have children that need to live. You need to think about leaving here when I do.”
I didn’t respond to that. How could I? Jeff was right there and a part of me thought it was cruel to say anything but goodbye to the doctor.
Once he was gone, Jeff grabbed my hand. “He’s right. You and the kids need to leave.”
“We will. When the time is right.”
“When will the right time be?” he asked. “When I die?”
I lifted my glass of bourbon, took a sip and stared blankly. I didn’t reply.
TWENTY-EIGHT – CHANGING
Once the high wore off, Jeff fell asleep. It didn’t last long. The reality that he was ill was evident once he wasn’t stoned. Any water or the broth he ate came right up. He struggled with gagging and vomiting for an hour.
It was in that time he started scratching and with each scrape of his nails against his arm, he pulled skin.
I wanted to cry.
It was horrible what he was going through. He was suffering.
I felt somewhat stronger and was moving around more. The girls and Josh had packed everything they could in the car. Falcon’s Way was a ghost town. There wasn’t a sound or soul left, at least not that we could see.
Sam came to see me and I was comfortably numb from my consumption of bourbon.
I was pretty much convinced that Jeff wasn’t making it through the night and I was trying to come to terms with that.
“How you holding up?” Sam asked as we sat on the porch.
“Better, at least the temperature tonight is tolerable. I’m not in pain.”
“Physically,” He said.
“Physically, you’re right. Sam…” I faced him. “Listen, I am so sorry that you have to wait on us. Please know, I won’t put you in danger. We will leave in time for the transports.”
“I know.”
“Are you listing them?”
“I am. They don’t change. I did check, I couldn’t find that recording that Bill mentioned to you.”
“He was pretty adamant it was there.”
“I’ll find it.”
“I just can’t make Jeff leave, not now.”
“Why are you justifying this to me?” he asked.
“Because you’re waiting on us. We’re your ride out of here.”
Sam chuckled. “You think? I have a car. Gas too, thanks to Josh.”
“Oh my God, what is Josh, the gas guy?”
“Considering he has nothing else to do, then yes.”
“Why haven’t you left?”
“No need to take two cars. We can fit in yours. And why leave alone? Nah, Tess, I’ll leave with you guys. That little guy, he’s been my lifeline since my wife died. Every day Tag made me smile. I’m not leaving that or your girls. I’ll wait. Besides, you guys need me with you.”
“We do.”
“See this old man is good for something.”
“You’ve been a godsend.”
At that moment, the screen porch door squeaked open and Tag stepped out.
“Marmie?”
“Hey, baby, you’re not sleeping?”
He shook his head. “I want to go to bed with you.”
“Okay, where’s your mom?”
“She’s sleeping.”
“I’ll be right in.”
“Will you tell me a story?” he asked.
“I will.”
And then Tag stood there. He didn’t go back in the house.
“I’ll take that look,” Sam said as he stood. “As my hint to leave.”
“You don’t have to go.”
“It’s late, the little guy needs you and I want to be on the airwaves to catch the next update.”
“I take it the generator is running fine.”
“Oh, yeah, lots of gas thanks to Josh.” Sam leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll check back in the morning. Try to get some rest. You had a rough day.”
“I will.”
After Sam had left, I stood slowly from my porch chair and held my hand out to Tag.
“Help your Marmie up the stairs.”
He gripped my hand. “I will.”
“You’re such a big guy,” I said. ‘Thank you for hanging out with me tonight.”
“I’m used to sleeping in your bed.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” I paused. “I’m used to you being there too.”
Tag was my lifeline.
The greatest little guy in the world, he stayed by me as I slowly took the stairs. When I got to my room, I opened the windows. The temperature had dropped. It was going to be a tolerable night.
He lay on the bed, on his side, waiting on me and I slipped next to him. He peered up to me with his big eyes.
“Tell me a story, Marmie.”
“What kind of story?”
“Something fun. Maybe …Tag against the dinosaurs.”
I smiled.
I took tales of the past and substituted Tag in the story as a hero. Tag and The Three Bears. The Three Little Pigs and Tag. Then if he wanted something specific, I searched my movie database and substituted him there. I wasn’t original, but he didn’t know that.
Never did I get to the end of a story, he always fell asleep.
“Once upon a time. There were these scientists. They wanted to bring back dinosaurs,” I said. “And they created them in a lab.”
“Are there real scientists?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“Are they smart?”
“Very.”
“Can they make dinosaurs?”
“Probably.”
“Marmie, if they can make dinosaurs, why can’t they make everything better.”
“They probably can, sweetie,” I said. “We’re just kind of in the dark here at Falcon’s Way.”
“Marmie? Is it the end of the world?”
I hesitated in answering. “Tag, where did that come from?”
“I’m pretty smart. I hear you guys talk. Is it?’
“No. No it isn’t. It’s just like a test. Like you get in school. Only we are being tested to see if we survive.”
“Will we pass?” he asked.
“Yes, Tag, we will.” I pulled him closer to tell the story and that was when I noticed.
My heart sunk and I prayed it was the weather and my imagination.
I hoped it was, because at that moment, Tag felt warm, he felt very warm.
TWENTY-NINE - TAG, YOU’RE IT
July 15
When I was child, our family had a collie named, Julius. I never knew a time in my life when Julius wasn’t around. I didn’t quite understand my parents always telling me he was old. Then again, as I hit my teens, I started to see it.
His moves were less agile, bark was deeper and strained, but he never left my side. My mother told me he was my personal watchdog since we got him.
He lived a lot longer than most dogs. He died just before my seventeenth birthday and I vowed because of the pain that I would never have another dog.
That night, after losing the baby, after just hitting my emotional end, I dreamt of Julius.
If I was late for school or was still sleeping after my parents were up and gone, Julius would bark. Jump on me and bark.
For a moment there, I was lucid in my dream. Knowing it was a dream and even justifying why I was dreaming about Julius. Things were rough, I had losses, and Julius was a painful reminder of those loses.
He kept barking.
Finally, I was so lucid that I woke up and realized it wasn’t Julius barking, it was Tag.
Lying next to me, sound asleep on his side, Tag coughed.
He was oblivious to it. His little body jolted with each violent and deep cough.
“Oh my God,” I reached over and touched him.
Hot.
His skin was so hot to touch it was frightening.
Immediately I jumped from bed. Something I shouldn’t have done. I grew dizzy, so dizzy. I thought I was going to pass out.
“Nicole!” I called out. “Nicole!”
Holding on to the bed, I looked at Tag. He didn’t stir. Once more I called out, “Nicole.” Then made my way over to Tag’s side of the bed. “Baby.” I shook him gently. “Baby, wake up. Oh my God.”
I brought my lips to him, hoping my hands were feeling wrong. But the sensitivity of my lips told me his fever was high.
Lifting the bottle of water from the nightstand, I grabbed part of the over sheet on the bed, doused it with water, and slowly wiped him down.
Not him.
It would be my last straw.
If something happened to Tag, I was done.
Nicole raced into the room and saw me next to her son.
“Marmie?”
“He’s sick,” I said barely able to breathe. “Send Josh, someone run and get Doc Stanley.”
Instead of following my instruction, she hurried to the bed, placed her hand on him. I knew as a mother myself, I would do the same, hoping and wishing it wasn’t true.
Nicole whimpered when she touched him.
“Go.” I told her. “I can’t leave. Just go.”
After quickly kissing Tag, she raced from the room.
<><><><>
Dr. Stanley wore protective garb. A mask, gloves, hood. Just like one of those doctors you would see in some sort of science fiction virus movie. Reverend Ray, on the other hand stated he put his faith in God and washed his hands.
After a quick examination of Tag, Dr. Stanley looked at us as if we were all doomed.
“None of you should be too close,” he said outside the bedroom door. “In fact, I’d go as far as to say Tess, you shouldn’t go anywhere. Not yet.”
I honestly didn’t plan on it.
“The rest of you need to stay away from the room or cover up if you go in. He has … Tag, I’m sorry, has the flu that’s been going around.”
“How can you be sure?” I asked.
“His fever is already dangerously high. He’s not responding. I’m sorry Tess.”
Standing next to Nicole, I watched as she lowered her head.
“The only positive thing about this sickness is it’s fast,” Dr. Stanley said. “Day and a half, two days tops.”
“Bill said his wife and he both got some sort of bacterial infection,” I said. “From the pool. Maybe Tag…”
‘This isn’t a bacterial infection, Tess.”
Nicole asked. “How do you know?”
“I don’t. But…time is the only thing that will tell. Unfortunately, right here in Falcon’s Way, we don’t have the luxury of waiting. I’m sorry.”
He wasn’t as sorry as we were.
Julie whimpered and cried, as did Nicole.
Jeff was lucky; he had slipped into a deep sleep and was out of it. I envied how he didn’t have to feel the pain.
First him, then the baby…now Tag?
Dr. Stanley was sorry? Basically he was telling us we had two days.
I had two days left with my grandson. The child I spent every single moment of the day with, the
child that took over Jeff’s spot in bed and never left my side.
Two days?
If that was all I had left, then I wasn’t missing a single second of it. I left Dr. Stanley in the hallway and returned to Tag’s side.
THIRTY – ACCEPTANCE AND DECISIONS
Never in my entire life had I doubted the existence of God, maybe because there was never a need to. I hadn’t faced anything so traumatic that I found myself saying, “Why, God?” My life was normal, uneventful. My childhood was good. My parents didn’t abuse me. I had good friends, and had the average life. Like many I went to college for something inane that never was going to be a career. The loss of my parents was a huge impact, but I put my faith in God, as I did when Nicole’s mother died. To me there was a reason that all three of them went so fast and unexpected. God had a plan.
For the life of me though, as I lay next to my sick grandson, two doors away from my dying husband with a womb void of life, I wanted to scream. There was no God. There couldn’t be. What possible plan could He, if He existed, have for me out of the sadness and loss? There was no rhyme or reason.
The entire world was suffering.
If there was a God, did he just up and walk away, say, “I quit” and play billiard balls with some planets to cause the destruction?
Not only did I feel emotionally hollow and drained, the world quite simply felt abandoned.
By two p.m., Tag’s fever was steadily high. He coughed uncontrollably, his little lungs fighting to break up and bring out whatever was blocking them. Fortunately he was out of it and slept.
The last thing he said to me was, “Tell me a story.” He always said that.
Did I tell him I loved him? I was certain I did, I always did.
It was easy to tell when Sam pulled an all-nighter, falling asleep just as the weather was tolerable enough and sleeping late. Hence why we never saw him until the afternoon. I guessed he came over to check on me and Jeff. He was unprepared for the news he received.
The semi upbeat man was floored. Upon hearing Tag was sick, his face grew pale and he looked as if he took a bullet. He literally grabbed his chest and dropped to his knees at the bedside of Tag.
By Way of Autumn Page 12