“Um, I’m figuring out how long I can feed TK with the food delivered yesterday.”
“He should be all right for a few weeks, right? And you need to eat, too.” He poured a bowl of cereal and slid it toward me.
I took slow, grateful bites.
“We brought you some lunch. Nothing exciting. Tuna, soup, and some crackers. I’ll put it in the cabinet.”
“Thank you.” I could make that last two days if I had to.
“Hey,” Ty said. “We could take some of Priati’s jars of mush. She won’t mind.”
“Priati?”
“One of the families that left town,” Jay explained. “They had a kid about TK’s age. Ty’s right. They don’t plan on coming back any time soon. Maybe we could check their cabinets for extra baby food. And supplies for you, too.”
“Is that OK? It’s not stealing?” Ty asked.
“We can pay them back when they come home.”
“All right.” Ty smiled, his cheeks full of cereal.
“That would be great,” I said.
Once we got TK playing in his portable crib and Ty watching cartoons, Jay and I attempted to order food from the grocery site again. Still no luck. I clenched my hands in frustration. In between tries, Jay pulled up his blog.
I scanned the memorial page over his shoulder. “Am I imagining things, or did the list double overnight? There must be eighty people now.”
“How is that possible?” he asked.
“Either the flu is spreading fast or people are catching up, adding names from the past few days. Not really a good situation either way.”
Jay clicked on the “Want to help?” section he created the night before. Besides Ethan and Derek, about seven or eight girls had signed up to meet today. Kayla’s name was at the top of the list.
I rolled my eyes. “Either girls are surviving better than boys, or they’re all looking to hang out with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You’re sure you don’t want to come and see old friends?”
“Huh?”
“Kayla said you used to be best buds.”
I flinched. “Not anymore.” So they had been talking about me. That was awkward. And annoying.
Jay changed the subject. “If you were in charge of the meeting at my house, what would you do?”
I sat cross-legged in the chair near the desk. “You really want my advice?”
He nodded.
“I don’t know. Maybe you could come up with a plan to find kids left alone or people who need help or families without food. You can’t take a bunch of kids from their homes, though, even if the parents are . . . deceased. You’ll have to leave some type of notice so other relatives can find them and keep track of who you’re caring for and where they live. So when things are back to normal, you’ll have some type of record.”
“Good point. I’ll ask my aunt to help me draft a letter. We can leave it with our contact info. I’ll print a bunch of copies before we get together.”
“While you’re meeting, I could follow up with Reggie and see if the seniors can help with the childcare.”
“That would be great.”
I shrugged my shoulders. My self-preservationist attitude was selfish, but at least I could assist in the background. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
While Jay posted on his blog, I checked on the kids. We were watching mindless TV when Jay came downstairs carrying their duffle bags. “Time to head home,” he said.
“I don’t want to go,” Ty said. “I want to stay here.”
“We need to see if the Singhs have any baby food for TK, remember?”
Once they left, the house felt too quiet. I wished they hadn’t gone. I left a message for Reggie, then carried TK from room to room, hoping to calm my nerves.
If I ignored the chair against the door, I could almost trick myself into thinking we hadn’t been robbed, that strangers hadn’t sorted through our belongings and walked off with pillowcases of food. But the feeling of comfort didn’t last long.
Mr. B had been at my door. Why? What could he possibly want? If he knew I was alone, the situation could be even more dangerous.
When I texted Mom and Dad last night, I hadn’t mentioned any of my fears. It would make them worry even more. They would agree that I shouldn’t meet with other kids today. It was too risky and helping other people was overrated. Wasn’t it?
I was feeding TK his bottle when the phone rang. I tried to juggle the receiver without clonking him on the head.
“Hello, Miss Lil.”
“Hi Reggie.” TK whimpered until I got him repositioned with the bottle.
“Is that your little baby I hear?”
“Yes and your future best buddy. Did you talk to your friends at the Senior Center?”
He sighed. “It didn’t go over well.”
“It didn’t?” Disappointment hit me like when I unexpectedly failed a test.
“People are worried about the germs, the logistics, the time commitment.”
“Don’t retired people generally have a lot of time?”
“It’s mostly the germs, Miss Lil.”
“I totally understand the fear of germs, believe me, but babies are the least likely to get sick and TK has been symptom-free for days.”
“I tried to tell them that. But Hazel, well, she has her own opinion.”
“Hazel Templeton?”
“That’s the one.”
“I know Mrs. Templeton. She helped me set up a pen pal program between the seniors and elementary school kids last year. It started out as a reading program, but she was a total control freak and changed everything around. ‘A fabulous project’ she called it in the end.”
“Well, she said this one wasn’t so fabulous.”
“She knows it was me asking?”
“Yep. It didn’t seem to make a difference.”
“But why does she get to decide?” I asked.
“She’s still the president of the Senior Center. As the former mayor, she’s compelled to run something. Last week, she kicked out Mr. Eckhart for cheating at cards. No one even tried to argue.”
TK drained the last of his formula as I let out a sigh.
Reggie cleared his throat. “If it helps, I can watch the baby for a bit this afternoon. Maybe take him to the Center for a visit. It’ll give you a break at least.”
“That would be great. Except I don’t have a car seat for him.” I dreaded having to return to the Goodwins’ house to search for one.
“I can ask around. I’m sure one of the grandmas here has one we can borrow.”
“All right.”
I hung up after making plans for me to drop TK off at Reggie’s later. But that didn’t solve the larger problem. TK couldn’t live with me forever. I probably wouldn’t survive another week. And what about other babies in the community who needed help?
Maybe I was being silly. TK could be an anomaly . . . although it seemed unlikely.
“What do you think, buddy? Are you the only orphan?”
He smiled at me, kicking his little legs while I washed him and got him dressed in his last clean outfit, a pale green jumper with yellow ducks on it. I did a load of laundry while we played peek-a-boo, then we had lunch. I ate half the tuna with one of the crackers Jay left me.
I turned the TV on while eating. In an attempt to screen for illness, several airports had installed “thermal imaging devices” to detect feverish travelers. A siren sounded if anyone passed through with a higher than normal temperature.
The news segment showed masked officials in the Hong Kong airport escorting a businessman away. People practically trampled each other to distance themselves from the infected passenger. One woman trying to avoid getting crushed looked like Mom. She even carried a reusable green canvas bag like my mother’s. But Mom couldn’t still be in Asia, could she?
While TK napped, I got my answer by text.
Mom: still in hong kong
Mom: but next on l
ist for london flight
Mom: trying but not much i can do to speed things up
Mom: this place is crazy but i’m close to getting out
Mom: hope you are well
Mom: hanger there
Mom: i mean, hang in there
Ugh. My heart sank. If she became ill in the airport, she would never make it home. She would die there and her body would probably never be returned to us and—
Stop. I had to make those thoughts stop.
Me: I miss you so much.
I didn’t want to sound desperate.
Me: But doing OK.
I sat holding my phone. On impulse, I scrolled back through the texts Megs and I had sent each other. I found our last ones.
Megs: if something happens 2 me
Me: shut up!
Megs: i mean it. if something happens ur the best bff. 4 the record i’m pissed 2 die a virgin.
Me: ur not dying. or i will kill u!!!
Megs: lol. seriously, u can have my necklace. the 1 with blue pearl dad gave me.
Me: ur scaring me. u will be fine.
Megs: where r u?
Me: @ coffee shop. with ur mystery guy.
Megs: !!!! we r @ hospital. have 2 go. I <3 u.
I re-read her words a dozen times, wishing I could tell her what a great friend she was, how much she helped me through the crisis with Mr. B. If she were here now, what would she tell me? Probably to take a risk, to do something crazy, even as I feared leaving the safety of home.
Then it registered: It was time to visit her house.
CHAPTER 18
Social distancing measures can be helpful in curbing the spread of influenza. But the Blue Flu is hitting US teens hard, and how many of them will stay isolated with school cancelled?
—Blue Flu interview, public health official
I dropped off TK at Reggie’s house with a diaper bag of supplies and my cell phone number, making sure my phone was charged in case Reggie needed to reach me. Then I walked to Megs’s with a backpack filled with shopping bags and a can of hornet spray, just in case. I moved quickly, glancing around me every few seconds, always aware of my surroundings. Several houses had broken windows like ours. I didn’t have any real weapons to defend myself, but so far, no one else was out.
Before entering the Salernos’ house, I checked for signs of looters, but everything seemed locked up. I took the spare key from under the fake rock where Megs had hidden it without telling her mother. As a cop, Mrs. Salerno hadn’t approved of keeping a key four feet from the front door.
Stepping through the doorway was the hardest thing I’d had to do. Being at the empty house made reality impossible to ignore. I hovered in the doorway before finally going in, locking the door behind me.
I stood in the kitchen for a long time. Megs and her mom were dead. Not away on vacation, like I tried to imagine. For a crazy moment, I smelled popcorn, but it was only my longing that Megs would push the bowl in my direction like she had a thousand times before.
I had come to say good-bye, but I had to take care of business first. The germs in the house would be gone by now. Jay was right: Megs and Mrs. Salerno would want to help me, would want me to survive. They wouldn’t mind if I took food and medicine that I needed.
Still, it somehow felt intrusive looking through their bathroom cabinets. I mumbled, “Sorry,” as I opened the doors. I found a bunch of over-the-counter meds, which went into my bag, and some unknown prescriptions for Mrs. Salerno, which I left. Then I checked the pantry. No baby food, of course, but lots of soup and canned goods I could eat. When the backpack overflowed, I filled three shopping bags, too.
I thought about leaving the food by the stairs, but I didn’t want to let it out of my sight. Panting from the burden, I trudged up to Megs’s room and put the bags down outside her door.
Stopping at the threshold, I breathed in the honeysuckle smell. There was a finished history assignment about the Titanic on her desk, next to a half-empty glass of water. Clothes she had been trying on for her mystery date covered the floor.
Her life, cut short.
Memories of us together flashed through my mind: Megs laughing so hard on the last day of freshman year that orange soda came out her nose; Megs letting me sign her cast first when she broke her wrist; pinky swearing that we wouldn’t pick ugly maid-of-honor gowns for each other’s wedding.
My legs started shaking so hard that I couldn’t stand. I sank onto her bed, burying my face in her pillow.
Oh, Megs. How can you be gone? This can’t be real. It can’t be.
When the sobbing finally slowed, I grabbed a tissue from her nightstand, knocking a flash of blue to the floor. I leaned over, grasping the necklace she’d mentioned in her last message to me. My sorrow for Megs seemed to have settled on my chest like a hundred necklaces. I slipped the silver chain around my neck, the teal blue pearl cool against my skin. It wasn’t enough to heal my hurt but it did make me feel a fraction better. “I hope you’re watching out for me, Megs,” I whispered.
If she hadn’t gotten sick, she would have met Jay that Friday night. Maybe they would be going out now. Megs and I would’ve had a good laugh over that. Her mystery guy had been in our school all along. She would have chided me for fretting about her safety. I could almost hear her voice: “See? I told you not to worry.”
Now her life was over. And how could the world measure the value of a time so brief? What was the point? Did her existence even matter?
Of course it did. Megs made a huge impact on me, acting as a lifeline over the past year. High school post-Mr. B would have been unbearable without her support.
That made me wonder. If I died next week, would my life count for anything? This was our very own Titanic, our history in the making. It was an opportunity for heroism and greatness and yet I was an anxious ball of nerves, crying in my dead friend’s bed.
Leaving everything else in Megs’s room untouched, I grabbed the backpack and bags of food, locked up, then rushed home as fast as I could under the weight. If I hurried, I could still make it to Jay’s meeting.
There’s safety in numbers, I tried to convince myself as I surveyed the group assembled in Jay’s backyard. I knew Beth and Elsa by sight. And then there was Kayla, overdressed for a charity mission. She raised her eyebrows at me but didn’t bother to say hello.
“You made it,” Jay said, looking pleased as he approached me.
Ethan arrived with Derek shortly after. We gave each other a cautious greeting. Then Derek sat with the girls and Ethan pulled me aside.
“Where’s your baby?” he asked.
“My neighbor’s watching him for me.”
He looked sheepish. “Sorry about our last conversation. Things got stressful when family moved in with us. Then Aunt Lori died—”
“The one who liked to crochet?”
He nodded. “And my cousin, Barry, too, the one who lived alone in New Providence. If someone would have checked on him, maybe . . . well, that’s why I’m here.”
“I’m really sorry,” I said.
“Everyone will lose somebody before this is over.”
Somebody like Megs. I toyed with her necklace. I’m doing the best thing by being here, right? I’m acting strong and brave, trying to help other people because it needs to be done.
Ethan and I joined the others. Elsa shimmied over to make room for him at the picnic table. Jay sat next to me on the other side, while Ty presumably played video games in the house. Kayla and Beth lounged on mismatched chairs.
Once everyone was settled, Jay explained the general plan: by banding together, we could help people in the immediate area. Then I explained about finding TK uncared for at a neighbor’s house.
“There could be others,” I said.
“And besides the memorials,” Jay said, “there were two new posts on my blog. Scott McGraw asked for pain reliever, and Jenna Fuentes needed food.”
“Yo, I know Scott and Jenna,” Derek said.
“How
many people are listed on the memorial page?” Kayla asked.
“One hundred and eight.” Which included Megs, although Kayla hadn’t said a word about her to me.
“The disease is international now,” Elsa said. “The World Health Organization upgraded it from a phase five to a phase six. The virus is spreading among the general population, not just in localized clusters.”
No one spoke for a few minutes.
Beth, the school’s theater diva, enunciated as if speaking to an auditorium full of people. “Look, I feel bad,” she said, raising her hand palm up for effect. “But why should we help anyone else? It’s a big town. What are we going to do, knock on doors and see who’s still alive? My parents would kill me if they knew I was involved with that.”
“I’m not sure that’s safe,” I said. “There have been lootings and . . .” Fears of Mr. B rushed my mind. I thought of someone like him answering a door, grabbing me, and pulling me inside. I doubted 911 had a quick response time these days.
“What if we focus on other high school students?” Ethan said. “We could check on our friends.”
“I think it needs to be wider than that,” Jay said.
“Who put you in charge?” Ethan argued.
Whoa. Since when was there so much tension between those guys?
“Chill out,” Derek said. “Does anyone have a map?”
“We must have one somewhere,” Jay said.
“Don’t they give school employees a master student directory?” Kayla asked. “If we use your aunt’s directory to mark where the kids live, we could begin with those families.”
“What about pets?” Elsa asked. “There might be animals trapped in the houses, too. We should bring some dog and cat food along, just in case. My mom’s a vet. I can get her to drop some off for us.”
I remembered the cat that had scurried out of the Goodwins’ house, suddenly feeling guilty that I didn’t try to help it.
“Animal food. OK,” Derek said.
“What I want to know is why the town isn’t organizing anything like this?” Beth asked.
“Portico Press reported that half the volunteers they counted on are too sick to help,” Jay said. “They’re caring for the ill people first.”
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