Fever Season (10 page)

People had been told to wear a mask at all times when they went out. Police could arrest anyone who didn't. People could buy their masks in drugstores for anywhere from five cents to a quarter. For the people who couldn't afford them — or were too afraid to go out! — newspapers printed instructions on how to make masks at home.

“What about you?” David asked his mother. Offices and factories hadn't been closed. “You still have to go to work.”

“Don't worry about me. All the windows are being kept open on the streetcars to keep the air fresh, and the police are watching every night to make sure they get cleaned out properly.”

To ensure streetcars didn't get too crowded, most stores had to be closed by four o'clock. That meant shoppers would all be home before other businesses closed for the day. Only drugstores, grocery stores, and restaurants were allowed to stay open late.

“But what about when you're at the factory?” David pressed his mother.

“All the women in the sewing room will be wearing masks. Some of the windows will be propped open, too. And if anyone so much as coughs or sneezes, there's a good chance they'll be sent home.”

The weather had been unusually cold and damp for several weeks. Lots of people already had colds. It didn't mean they had the flu, let alone the deadly Spanish Flu, but the symptoms were so similar it was better to be safe than sorry.

The days alone in the flat were long and boring, but David and Alice mostly stayed inside. Dr. Boucher and the newspapers kept saying it was important to breathe fresh air, so they went out to the landing a few times each day. When their mother came home, she called out to them so that David and Alice could go into his room. As soon as she got inside, their mother changed out of the clothes she'd been wearing and put on a simple dress she kept near the door. Then she put her mask and her outdoor clothes in a pot and boiled them to kill any germs. She also put the mail from outside and the newspaper she brought home into the oven for a few minutes. Finally, she mixed up a mouthwash the newspapers said people should gargle: one quart of boiled water, two teaspoons of salt, half a teaspoon of permanganate of potash. Permanganate of potash was poison if you used too much, but it was safe if you were careful. She poured some into a glass for each of them — sharing cups, plates, forks, or spoons was something to avoid! — and they each rinsed out their mouths. Then their mother cooked dinner.

After eating, Alice helped wash the dishes. That was her job, but these days David usually helped, too. At least it was something to do! There was no extra sewing anymore because it was too risky to bring in clothes from other people's houses. If they weren't using a handkerchief when they coughed or sneezed, there could be germs all over their clothes.

Other people obviously weren't being as cautious as the Saiferts. Or maybe it was just impossible to keep the Spanish Flu away from everyone. So many things were closed that the city was like a ghost town, yet more and more people kept getting sick. More than two hundred and fifty people died in Montreal during the second week of October. Almost two thousand more people got sick. And those were just the cases the newspapers knew about. There were probably more. The next ten days were even worse. Nearly a thousand new cases were reported and more than a hundred people died every single day.

The numbers were horrifying, but the speed of the disease was also frightening. Most people who caught the Spanish Flu got better after a week or two in bed. Not everyone, though. Some people lingered for weeks before dying, but others were dead within a few days. Sometimes it only took a couple of hours. A person could be perfectly healthy before breakfast, feel feverish at lunch, and be dead before dinner.

At its worst the disease really was just as terrible as Alice had heard. People's lungs filled up with bloody fluid, making it almost impossible for them to breathe. Without enough oxygen in their bodies, people's skin really did turn blue. There was blood when they coughed, and sometimes it did run out of people's noses instead of snot. Almost no one got better if their case got that bad.

One of the strange things about the Spanish Flu was the people it killed. Usually, the only people who died from the flu were very young or very old. With the Spanish Flu the people who had been healthiest before they got sick were the ones who died. Men and women in their twenties and thirties seemed to be at risk most.

David read in the newspaper about Hamby Shore. He was a hockey player with the Ottawa Senators. Or rather he had been. Shore caught the Spanish Flu from his wife. She got better, but he died. He was only thirty-two years old. Younger people were dying, too. On the same day as Hamby Shore's funeral in Ottawa, Bob Marshall died in Montreal. His father, Jack Marshall, had starred for years with the Montreal Wanderers. Bob Marshall was only twelve.

It was impossible to care for everyone who got sick. Hospitals filled up quickly, so emergency hospitals were set up in schools, orphanages, and armouries. They filled up, too. One big problem was there weren't nearly enough doctors and nurses for everyone. So many medical people had been needed for the war and were still in Europe. Many of the doctors and nurses who were at home to treat the Spanish Flu caught the disease themselves from their patients. Nuns and priests helped out. So did Jewish and Protestant organizations. But there still weren't enough caregivers to go around.

Early on Dr. Boucher had told the newspapers: “The best thing to do when a person is sick is to stay at home and call a doctor.” But just a few days later the newspapers were telling people to use their telephones as little as possible. So many operators had become sick it was impossible for the phone company to handle all the calls.

That meant that even though the Spanish Flu was a deadly disease, many people were forced to care for their own sick relatives by themselves at home. Newspapers offered advice on what to do:

People should be kept in well-lit rooms. Other family members should not enter except when absolutely necessary.

Opening and closing doors set up currents of air that carry germs. It is better to leave the door of the sick room open. Hang a sheet moistened with bleach in the opening.

The person attending the patient should wear an apron with sleeves. The apron should be removed when leaving so as not to carry away germs. Wash your face and hands after touching a patient.

All the linen and other things belonging to the patient should either be burnt or boiled for at least fifteen minutes.

There were no vaccines to prevent the Spanish Flu. There was no sure way to cure it, either. The only thing to do was to try not to catch it. Newspapers offered advice on that, too:

Avoid persons suffering from colds, sore
throats, and coughs.
Cough in a handkerchief or behind your
hand.
Avoid cold rooms.
Sleep and work in fresh, clean air.
Eat plain, nourishing food.
Avoid alcohol.
Change handkerchiefs frequently.

By the beginning of November, things finally seemed to be settling down. “We have fewer deaths,” Dr. Boucher told the newspapers, “and I hope the death rate will keep on decreasing. Still, I advise the public to continue to take the same precautions. It is absolutely necessary to observe these precautions in order to prevent a revival of the epidemic.”

November 2 was a Saturday. David and Alice spent the whole day with their mother. Wearing their masks to be careful, they all went out for a short time to shop for food. Later, their mother showed Alice how to work the sewing machine.

“Sit here beside me and pump the treadle,” their mother told Alice. “You have to keep it moving smoothly. Heel and toe. Heel and toe. Almost like you're pedalling a bicycle.”

Once Alice got the hang of it, their mother placed a piece of cloth under the presser. She hadn't set up the needle and thread yet. First she wanted Alice to get used to moving the cloth with her hands while she pumped the treadle.

“Just push it under gently,” their mother said.

“You don't have to pull it out the other end. Once you get a rhythm going, the machine practically moves the cloth for you.”

When Alice was ready, their mother put the spool in place. It had to be wound carefully through a lot of different parts, and finally through the eye of the needle. It looked complicated, but their mother could set up a sewing machine almost in her sleep.

At first Alice was doing quite well, but later she seemed to lose her rhythm. The cloth was sticking and she was getting the thread all tangled.

“My fingers are getting sore,” she complained.

“Well, then, maybe that's enough for your first time,” their mother said.

David and his mother hadn't thought it was strange that Alice's hands had gotten tired, but later that night when they were all in bed Alice began to scream. She was having a nightmare. Their mother ran to her and placed a hand on Alice's forehead.

“Oh, my God! She's burning up with fever!”

C
HAPTER
9

David didn't remember very much after that. He recalled his mother telling him to get back to bed. Her voice was calm, but he could see the fear in her eyes. The last thing he could remember for sure was his mother phoning for a doctor.

After that David felt a strange sensation in his chest.

It was as if a hand were pressing down on him. The feeling passed quickly. Perhaps it was nothing more than his nerves, but by the next morning he couldn't even lift his head off the pillow. His muscles ached and his body felt weak. Like his sister, he was burning up with fever.

All he wanted to do was sleep. Even to call out to his mother for help seemed like too much effort. He must have eaten sometimes, but he couldn't remember. When he did sleep, the pain and high fever caused terrible nightmares. One night he had a dream that he was falling. Down and down he went, as if he were tumbling down a long flight of stairs.

A week went by before David felt strong enough to sit up on the edge of his bed. But when he did, he realized he didn't know where he was. Although the room was dark, he could tell that it wasn't his bedroom at home. There was a light on nearby and a woman working under it. She was wearing a mask, but David could see she wasn't his mother. He couldn't make sense of it.

“Where am I?” he asked, but the sound barely came out. It sounded like something between a squeak and a croak.

The woman heard him and rushed over with a glass of water. David sipped at it slowly until it eased his scratchy throat.

“Are you hungry?” the woman asked.

David hadn't realized that he was until she said it. He nodded.

“I'll see if I can find you something to eat.” She returned a few minutes later carrying a tray with a bowl of soup. Chicken with noodles. The woman put it down on David's lap. “Are you okay with it there?”

David nodded again and started eating. The soup was a little watery, but it was hot and delicious. Hungry as he was, he could only eat slowly. As he did, he glanced around the room. Sheets had been hung up like curtains between the beds, so it was hard to see much. He seemed to be in a small hospital room with a few other beds in it. There were sleeping children in some of them.

“What time is it?” David asked between slurps of soup.

“Almost midnight,” the woman told him.