“It’s not just about you and Meredith,” Dad said. “It’s about the whole world. For all you know, either of you could already be carrying the virus. You leave the island and you spread it further. We’ve contacted the Public Health Agency. They’re talking about setting up a contained area on the mainland so people can safely leave. You’d have to stay under their supervision for the decided timeline, but when they’re sure you’re uninfected, you’d be able to go wherever you want. You just need to wait a few days while they get organized.”
“A few days?” Uncle Emmett shouted. “Why don’t they have a place for us already? I don’t give a damn about the rest of the world—I have a right to protect my family!”
He kept going, but Mom shot me a look like a silent order, one I was happy to follow. I grabbed Meredith’s hand and took her up to her bedroom, where most of her dad’s words were muffled. Her hair was looking kind of raggedy, so I grabbed the brush off the dresser and sat down with her on the window seat.
Aunt Lillian used to do Meredith up with all these tiny braids. I was always jealous because I knew they’d never work in my hair, since even though mine’s as dark as Mom’s, it’s fine like Dad’s. I tried to copy her technique on Meredith, but my little braids looked puffy and straggly, not sleek like they’re supposed to. So instead I made two big braids, like pigtails. Meredith got up to look in the mirror, and smiled at me, even though they were lopsided. Then the corners of her mouth drooped.
“Is what Uncle Gordon said true?” she asked. “Maybe I’m sick?”
My throat felt suddenly tight. “Probably not,” I said. “Not many people are. And even if you do get sick, they haven’t had much time to figure out how to cure it. Soon they’ll be able to make everyone better. So don’t worry, okay?”
I pulled her onto my lap, and she relaxed against me as we stared out the window together. Their house is right by the shore. A pod of harbor porpoises was bobbing through the water in the strait. Way off, the mainland lights were glittering as if everything was right in the world.
We stayed like that until Drew poked his head in to tell us we should come down to watch a movie.
“Mom got Uncle Emmett to promise he’d wait until the Public Health Agency gets organized,” he said under his breath as we headed downstairs behind Meredith.
I know that’s a good thing, but part of me understands exactly how Uncle Emmett feels. Part of me wishes he’d break his promise and get Meredith out of here, just in case.
I asked Dad how many people are in the hospital now, before he rushed out the door this morning. “More than we’d like,” was all he’d say.
They still haven’t isolated the virus. And another patient died. I don’t know how Rachel’s doing. When I started to suggest maybe I could go visit her yesterday, Dad got this look like a blast of freezing air had hit him, and told me at this point she wouldn’t get anything out of it.
Please let him find that cure I promised Meredith. For Rachel, and everyone else.
He called Gran and Grandpa in Ottawa yesterday to tell them to keep an eye out, just in case. And he’s forbidden me and Drew to go to school, of course—really, from leaving the house at all. But after spending most of the weekend and all yesterday cooped up at home, by this afternoon I was ready to climb the walls. I kept thinking about what Drew had said, about hiding from our problems instead of facing them. The new me wouldn’t be afraid to go out and see what’s happening.
I told myself as long as I didn’t get close to anyone, I was just as safe as if I stayed home. But my stomach started twisting up as I walked toward the school. I stopped under the oak tree outside one of the science-room windows. Mr. Grant was writing on the chalkboard in his wobbly scrawl. Everyone was flipping to a page in their textbook. It looked like a totally normal day.
Then I noticed a boy in the first row scratching his shoulder. He worked at the spot for at least ten seconds, stopped, then went at it again.
A couple rows behind him, a girl started coughing so loud I could hear her through the window. Someone else sneezed, and another boy laughed.
I turned around and started walking away, my legs shaky. Even the new me couldn’t watch any longer.
As I was going by the parking lot, someone called my name. I was so startled I almost ran—as if some sick person was going to be coming after me. But I caught myself and looked around.
A woman was getting out of a car near the walkway. After a moment I recognized her. One of Dad’s friends from the hospital, Dr. Something-or-Other, but I’ve always called her Nell.
“Kaelyn,” she said again. She hefted a cardboard box out of the trunk and lugged it over to the edge of the parking lot. “I thought your dad had you staying home,” she said.
“I didn’t go to school,” I said quickly. “I just needed to get out of the house for a bit. Taking a walk.”
Dad will have a fit if she tells him she saw me.
“As long as you’re careful,” Nell said, shifting the box.
“Want some help with that?” I asked.
“No, I think Gordon would murder me if I took you in there,” she said with a smile. “I’ll be fine. It’s just paper. We printed up informational booklets, how to stay safe during a potential epidemic. I’m in charge of going over them with all the kids here.” She tipped her head toward the school.
It’s probably the same sort of advice I’ve already looked up on the internet. Wash your hands lots. Stay home if you feel unwell. Avoid crowded public places.
“Do you think we’re going to be okay?” I said. I didn’t even know I was going to ask until the words came out. But I wanted to hear what someone other than Dad thought.
“I think we have to focus on keeping people informed without creating a panic,” she said. “Often you end up with a real emergency more because of people who are afraid of getting sick than those who actually are.”
Which is why Dad was so hard on Uncle Emmett, I guess. I nodded, and Nell said, “Well, take care of yourself, Kaelyn.”
She headed into the school, and I decided I’d seen enough, so I’m here at home again.
I avoided crowded places. When I got back, I went right past washing my hands and took another shower. But I don’t really feel any safer.
Mackenzie called in the middle of dinner last night. Hell must have frozen over, because Mom let me talk to her while everyone else kept eating.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t be there,” Mackenzie said. “Everyone at school is talking about all those people getting sick, and I hadn’t seen you since last week….” She paused to take a breath, and then asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” I said, which was true as long as we were defining “all right” as “I haven’t yet succumbed to a deadly illness.” “My dad’s pretty worried,” I added. “Seemed safer to stay home until they know for sure what’s going on.”
“Well, school definitely sucks even more than usual right now,” she said. “Maybe I can talk my parents into letting me stay home too. How long is this is going to last? Does your dad have inside info?”
“He’s been helping at the hospital,” I said. “But they still don’t know a lot. They’re experimenting with different treatments. Some people from the Public Health Agency came in yesterday, and they’re the experts.”
“That’s good,” Mackenzie said. “So can we hang out after school tomorrow? I haven’t had anything to do except homework and listening to people freak out.”
I told her I’d try. I got away with sneaking out yesterday because no one else was home, but Mom doesn’t work today. Since I knew what Dad would say, I waited until he left for work this morning before I talked to her.
“We won’t go near anyone else,” I said. “And Mackenzie sounded totally healthy on the phone.”
Mom frowned, but thankfully she trusts me to look after myself more than Dad does. “Just make sure you’re back before your father gets home,” she said. “He’s got enough on his mind without worr
ying about you too.”
So a couple hours ago I met up with Mackenzie in Thompson Park. We sat on one of those benches near the pond, and Mackenzie threw chips to the ducks. The breeze is already getting that autumn chill.
“Guess they’ll be heading south soon,” I said, meaning the ducks.
Mackenzie nodded, and then hesitated. “I think we’re going too,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“My ’rents are spazzing,” she said. “Mom wants to go to the condo in L.A. until this blows over. There’s not much to do around here anyway. They told us all to go home at lunch. School’s closed.”
I hadn’t known. So the epidemic is really that bad. A chill crept down the collar of my windbreaker.
“Do you know if Rachel got this bizarro virus?” Mackenzie asked. “People are saying she did. She looked kind of sick the last day she was in school.”
I wasn’t sure if Rachel would want me telling Mackenzie or not. So I just said, “She did? I didn’t notice.”
“You probably didn’t see her,” Mackenzie said. “It wasn’t until after lunch. She started coughing really bad last period. I mean, she couldn’t have been feeling too awful, because she went to choir practice after. I figured she’d come down with a cold.”
Choir practice. I remembered Drew telling me about the girls he’d noticed in his classes—were they in choir too? Maybe they’d stood next to Rachel, and she’d coughed, and that was that.
Maybe last Tuesday was the luckiest day of my life, that I didn’t catch the virus when I was visiting her.
Mackenzie shifted impatiently and said, “Anyway, if she is really sick, it’s not like there’s anything we can do. It’d be stupid for anyone to stay here if they could leave. Not you, of course—I mean, they need your dad and all. But he’ll make sure you’re all right. Anyone who isn’t helping…”
I considered telling her Dad’s theory about why no one should leave, not without proper precautions. But the way Mackenzie gets off on breaking rules, she’d probably see that as one more reason to ditch us.
Before I could decide what to say, she turned her head, and her face brightened.
“Hey,” she said. “It’s them!”
I looked over. A bunch of guys from our school were standing on the other side of the pond. There were a couple from our grade and a couple younger, but most of them were seniors. I didn’t see anything special about them.
“What?” I said.
“You know Gav?” she said. “The one in the red T-shirt?”
I don’t know all of the senior guys by name, but the one in red looked familiar, particularly the curly light brown hair. I thought I’d seen him hanging out on the field outside school more than once.
“Shauna heard from Anne, who heard from her brother, that he—that Gav guy—he’s started up this whole Fight Club thing,” Mackenzie said in a rush. “They get together secretly and beat each other up. That’s got to be them! I wonder if they do it out here in the park?”
“Pretty hard for a fighting club to stay secret that way,” I pointed out.
“True,” she said. “But still. On the island! Pretty insane.”
As if people only do crazy-stupid things in places like L.A. I’m surprised Drew never heard about this. Maybe he did and just didn’t mention it.
“I guess that’s what guys like to do,” I said, trying to put a rational spin on the idea. “Work out aggression? Like football and wrestling.”
Mackenzie giggled. “Obviously football isn’t tough enough for these guys,” she said, and glanced at her watch. “Crap! I told Mom I’d be back by five. I should get going or she’ll totally freak.”
She gave me the usual good-bye hug, which reminded me of the rib-crushing squeeze I got from Rachel that last time, and the horrible thought came into my head that I might never see Mackenzie again.
As she was walking away, I saw her reach to scratch the back of her neck. And then she rubbed her left wrist. Out of nowhere, I had the urge to scream after her, tell her to stop.
But people get itches for no reason. Five minutes ago I scratched my chin. It doesn’t have to mean anything.
And even if it did mean something—what could I have done?
Six more people have died. The Public Health officers are barring visitors and all patients who aren’t in critical condition from the hospital unless they’re showing symptoms of the mystery virus. Dad says the building’s almost at capacity as it is. And one of the doctors has come down with the disease now.
Dad brought home a box of face masks yesterday. “If you absolutely have to go out,” he said, “make sure you’re wearing one of these. The transmission is almost definitely respiratory.”
“So you’re closer to figuring out how to deal with it?” I asked.
“Hard to say, with Public Health running everything now,” he said. “They take records without making copies and run tests without sharing the results. How they expect the rest of us to work…” He trailed off with a huff of breath, and added, “The World Health Organization is getting involved. I just hope they have more to contribute than adding to the confusion.”
I asked him about the contained area on the mainland that was supposed to be set up so people like Uncle Emmett and Meredith could leave, and he said it’s not in place yet. I wish they’d hurry up.
Mom’s still doing her shifts at the café, but she’s taking a mask with her to work. She says she’s seeing a lot more people than usual coming into the gas station to fill up their tanks. “Worried we’ll end up closing soon,” she said, but I wonder if they aren’t all loading onto the ferry and driving as far from the island as they can go. I got an e-mail from Mackenzie late last night, from L.A. They caught the first ferry yesterday morning and headed straight for the airport.
And this morning, right before Mom was supposed to leave for work, a white van with the logo for one of the Halifax TV stations came down our road. It parked on the other side of the street, and a couple of guys got out, one with a mic and the other with a video camera. “Media vultures,” Mom muttered as we watched from the living room window. “Looking for a story in other people’s pain.”
When they knocked on the door, we moved into the dining room and ignored them. Mom waited another fifteen minutes before she finally left. From what Dad’s said, both the town hall and the Public Health people would rather keep the epidemic out of the media, to hold off a total panic. So far I’ve only seen a few mentions on the news about a “health concern” on the island, with brief interviews with regular islanders who don’t know much about the situation. I don’t know if the American stations have picked up the story at all.
I wonder if your parents have told you anything, Leo. They wouldn’t want to worry you, your first month in a new city and a new school. You probably have no idea. Somehow that makes it feel like you’re even further away. But right now I’m just glad you are away from here, and safe.
I’ve been so cautious the last few days. It’s not fun hanging around the house all the time, but now that I know what a close call I had with Rachel, I figure I shouldn’t push my luck. Since I saw Mackenzie on Wednesday, I haven’t gone any farther than the backyard. What with school being closed and the only two people I could call friends out of reach, there hasn’t been much to go out for. Mom or Drew are around if I really need to talk to someone, and Uncle Emmett brought Meredith over for a little while yesterday.
But today I was by myself. Mom and Dad were working, and Drew snuck out in the morning to go who knows where. The house was empty. The feeling started to creep over me that it was going to stay that way. No one was coming back.
And then I thought about you way off in New York, Leo—probably not knowing there’s anything to worry about. I wasn’t even sure how your parents are doing. When we were kids I used to see them every other day.
Suddenly I was terrified they might have caught the virus, that they might already be in the hospital and neither of us
had a clue. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to get out of the house, but it worked. I put on one of the face masks and set off.
Outside, a couple of chickadees were chattering on the phone wires like it was any other day. I started to breathe a little easier. When I got to your street, I saw your mom in the front yard, trimming the hedge. I stopped by the corner and watched. After a few minutes, your dad came out with a glass of water, and they talked a bit. No scratching, no sneezing, no coughing. They’re okay.
I didn’t go over, because I didn’t know what I could say to them anyway. That can wait until after I’ve sorted things out with you. When they went back inside, I headed home.
On the way, some of my edginess came back. Hardly anyone was out, but it was warm enough that people had their windows open, and every now and then I heard a faint cough or sneeze. I started walking faster, and decided to cut across Main Street instead of going the long way around. I figured getting home faster was worth the extra chance I’d run into someone.
As I was passing the old theater, Tessa came around the corner farther down the street.
She was walking along as if nothing was wrong in the world. Hadn’t even bothered to wear a mask. I almost hurried on without stopping, but then I remembered hearing her say her parents were going on a trip the other week. I don’t know if they’re back yet. How lonely would that be? Maybe she didn’t realize how dangerous it is to go out.
What kind of person would I be if I walked on without saying something because one time she didn’t sit next to me?
So I jogged to catch up with her. “Hey, Tessa,” I said.
She paused and glanced around, and I had a flashback to that day in biology, when she breezed right by me. But she nodded and said, “Hi, Kaelyn.”
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Pretty much everyone’s staying home these days.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m just picking up a couple things.”
She sounded so calm that I felt awkward, like I was hassling her, even though I was trying to help. My tongue started to trip over itself. “Because, um, it’s really not safe to go out unless you have to, you know,” I said. “You could run into someone who’s sick.” I realized I wasn’t setting the best example, so I touched my mask and added, “Even though I have one of these, I’m on my way home right now.”