“Why hello, children,” she said. Then, “Oh, Blackie!” as a large cat slipped by them into the stairwell. It stood there uncertainly. “She’ll come back in a minute,” said Mrs. Hernández. “She’s just exploring.”
“We’re making biscuits,” Helen said. “Would you like some?”
“Oh, that’s very thoughtful!”
“But we don’t have any milk.”
A tabby cat brushed up against Teddy’s leg. It seemed strange that Mrs. Hernández had all the blinds closed on such a pretty day.
“Milk? Did you say you needed milk? But my kitties need their milk.” Mrs. Hernández fixed Helen with a stern look. “How many biscuits are you offering?”
“How many do you want?”
“Six,” said Mrs. Hernández.
“Four.”
“You can’t make biscuits without milk.”
“You can’t make biscuits without flour and butter, either,” said Helen.
“Five,” said Mrs. Hernández.
“Four,” Helen said stubbornly. In the pause that followed, she turned to leave, pulling Teddy after her.
“How much milk?”
“One cup, Mom says.”
Teddy started to say something, but Helen nudged him, so he kept his mouth shut.
Mrs. Hernández opened her refrigerator. Helen could see that there were three bottles of milk there, and very little else. Mrs. Hernández poured out exactly one cup. “Four biscuits,” she said again before passing the cup to Helen. “Now where’s that black cat?”
Blackie was clawing the outside door, looking for an escape. Mrs. Hernández scooped him up.
* * *
—
NOW THAT DINNER WAS OVER, and Helen had finished the dishes, Jill told her and Teddy to come into the living room. They needed to talk.
Jill realized her tone was ominous, but she couldn’t help herself. “You know this terrible flu is really dangerous, don’t you?” Jill said. Helen and Teddy nodded. “Do you know anybody who’s sick?”
“There’s four boys in my class,” said Teddy. “I think maybe more.”
“There’s more,” said Helen. “A lot.”
“I imagine there are,” said Jill. “So many reports on television. People all over the world getting really sick.”
“Is Daddy okay?” Helen asked, picking up on the implications.
“Yes, honey, he’s fine. He’s doing what he can to keep people safe. We ought to be really proud of him, don’t you think?”
Helen nodded gravely. Teddy said, “I’m angry he’s not here.”
“I know,” said Jill. “I wish he were here, too. He’d know what to say. He’s really wise.”
“What’s wrong, Mommy?” Helen said insistently.
Jill had rehearsed this. “You know that many people are really sick, and some of them don’t get better. Some of them die. You understand what that means, don’t you?” The children nodded. Jill could see the apprehension in their eyes. “Aunt Maggie called me. Your cousin, Kendall. She got sick. She didn’t get well.”
Helen turned white.
“It happened on Monday. She just got horribly sick, and there wasn’t anything to do.”
“How did she get sick?” Teddy asked.
“Nobody knows, Teddy, but some people said that it was in the pigs.”
“Is Queen Margaret sick?” Helen asked.
“She died too,” said Jill, omitting the information that Maggie had herded all her livestock into a remote pasture and shot them. She didn’t say that Uncle Tim was also sick, and that Jill had buried their grandmother that morning. One thing at a time.
30
What Would You Advise?
The virus had evolved, magnified, returning with a vehemence that left the researchers deflated by their inability to contain it. “We’ve missed every play,” Henry said to his team on a Skype conference. “Have you looked at the NIH universal influenza vaccine?”
“It’s for influenza A and B, and it’s still in trials,” said Marco.
“Well, are the volunteers alive? That might indicate that it has some crossover potential to neutralize Kongoli.”
“We’ll check.”
“What about the Pfizer vaccine?” Henry asked Susan, a young intern who had just stepped into the job of one of the best people on the team. That person had stopped coming to the lab. Nobody knew what had happened to her.
“The initial animal trials seem promising,” Susan replied.
“That’s as far as you’ve gotten?” he said sharply. “That was two days ago!”
“We don’t have—”
“No baseline, no initial—”
“We don’t know any of that!” Susan said, near tears.
“Henry, we’re all working flat out,” Marco said. “Nobody has slept. We don’t see our families, half of us are camped out in the lab. We’re doing everything we can.”
“I know, I know you are. Sorry,” Henry said. “I realize you’re as frustrated as I am.” It was pointless to say that they needed more time. Everybody knew that. And everybody knew there wasn’t more time.
* * *
—
TILDY SETTLED ON THE COUCH with her elderly Pekingese, Baskin, to watch a historic moment in American history. She already knew what the president was