Songs for the End of the World - Saleema Nawaz Page 0,2
about the memorials planned for his gym buddies and discovered some of the funerals had already happened. The virus had struck the group with such efficiency that there had been no one left to call him. He stopped himself from texting Mina again, dreading more news even as he sought it out. The surface of his skin felt electric with mortality.
Feeling dizzy, he moved from his desk to his bed, but lying down seemed like giving up. He got to his feet and paced the length of his apartment before settling back in the desk chair and rolling it over to the window that looked out onto the street. There was no sign of movement in the facing apartment buildings. He tried to reassure himself that most people were at work during the day.
Quarantine Day One
Elliot reported himself to the authorities later that morning in a series of phone calls that escalated through a chain of increasingly flustered functionaries. Eventually he was connected to someone at the Department of Health, to whom he managed to portray himself as something more than the average hypochondriac. The woman on the phone wasn’t up-to-date on the latest media coverage, and the restaurant name he kept repeating meant nothing to her, but she believed that he thought he had been exposed.
“Okay, Elliot,” she said, after he told her his name and address. He could hear her typing in the background. “What you’re going to do is stay at home.”
“How long?”
“Twenty-one days,” she said. “Now, do you share a toilet with anyone? Are you married?”
“I’m divorced.” Why did he still find it so hard just to answer no? “What’s this about toilets?”
“You need to flush two or three times to reduce the risk of contamination for anyone else.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to see anyone.”
“You’re not. I’m just telling you.” The rhythmic clack of typing stopped for a moment. “Most importantly, take your temperature twice a day. If it spikes or if it reaches one hundred and four, call Emergency and explain that you’re on the quarantine list.”
“Okay,” he said, already beginning to feel warm.
“Someone will call you back tomorrow,” she said. “In the meantime, make a list of everyone you’ve seen, everywhere you’ve gone since the exposure.”
“I was supposed to go out tomorrow.” Elliot swallowed against a mounting tightness in his throat. “See my sister and nephew.” If he died, what would happen to Sarah and Noah?
“I know it’s hard, but try not to worry too much.” Her voice was saturated with resignation. She sounded like someone who was not used to delivering good news. “If you already have it, there’s nothing you can do.”
Elliot asked then about the logistics of eating. “Is it better to order in or go grocery shopping? Or am I not allowed?” What was the exact calculation of risk relative to the need to eat?
She quizzed him about the closest places to buy food and how crowded they tended to be. “Okay, try to make do for now. We’ll put you on the delivery list.”
* * *
—
A few hours later the doorbell rang while he was taking a nap. He jumped out of bed, heart racing, confused and hopeful until he saw the text message on his phone: Your supplies are at the door.
“Here,” said the health care worker. She was masked and gloved and held out two plastic bags at arm’s length.
“Would you like to come in?” he asked as he took them from her. He watched as she recoiled and took a step backwards before adding, “Just a joke.”
There was a muffled laugh. “Good one.” She was gone before Elliot could thank her. He noticed that she had pasted a quarantine notice on his door. He wondered how long it would be before his neighbours complained to the landlord.
He called into work after lunch, and his supervisor’s brisk attitude was a comfort. “I’ll talk to Bryce, but let’s keep it quiet as long as you stay healthy. I’d rather not spread it around, so to speak.”
“Just tell the guys I’ve got something sexier, like mono.”
“Sexy, ha.” The sergeant barked a laugh. “No wonder you’re still single, Howe.”
“Hey, it’s the kissing disease, isn’t it?”
* * *
—
Elliot felt the strong urge to go for a drive, to speed as far away as possible from his present circumstances, but instead he spent the rest of the afternoon watching basketball, football, and even a world bowling championship while eating his way through two days’ worth of food, his tears flowing