Jakarta Pandemic, The (24 page)

“All right, the first issue which many of us will face is daycare. Most of us will have to make alternate daycare arrangements or take time off from work,” she said in a tone indicating that she might be in that same position.

“Why did she say that like she’ll be needing daycare, too? She doesn’t work,” Alex whispered to Ed.

“Probably because she’s always had her kids in daycare, preschool, or public school. She had her first two kids in daycare at least three full days a week before they started school. Same thing with Grace. She keeps them in all day programs during most of the school breaks and the summer,” Ed whispered back.

“Wow, she’s a piece of work. Kate’s going to love this.”

“So, the daycare list is for both those who will need daycare and those who will be home and can help provide daycare services for their neighbors. Please fill in the times you need covered, how many kids, anything like that. If you can open up your home to help, please note your availability. Once we get all of the names and information, we’ll put them together and try to find matches. We can even use this information in case someone in your family gets the flu, and you need to leave the house to take that person to get treatment. That way, you don’t have to drag the entire family out where they could get sick.”

Are you shitting me?

Alex surveyed the crowd and saw that the idea was popular, which didn’t surprise him considering the number of dual-income families in the neighborhood. He shook his head and leaned over to Ed. “So, are you going to volunteer to watch Jamie’s kids while she takes her flu- ridden husband to the hospital? Or let your kids stay at Jamie’s while you head out to the office? This has bad idea written all over it,” he whispered.

“I agree,” Ed responded.

“The next list is for volunteers to take sick people to doctor’s appointments or the hospital. If both parents are sick and a child needs to be seen by a doctor, volunteers from this list would help out,” she said, smiling.

“This is right from the manual of how to guarantee a 100% infection rate in your neighborhood,” Alex whispered to Ed, who let out a loud guffaw, snorted, and quickly contained himself.

Several heads turned in their direction, including Stephanie Bishop, who shook her head and frowned, and turned to say something to her husband. Eric Bishop looked back at them, also frowning.

“Did you have something to add?” Laura Burton boomed, the other self-appointed pandemic coordinator.

Alex shook his head. “Nope.”

Most heads returned to Nicki, though Mike Lynch drew out his glare a little longer than necessary.

“The next topic, which was suggested by Todd Perry, deals with basic necessities and supplies. As we are all painfully aware, food and other basic survival needs are in short supply at the stores. I tried to put together just one emergency kit earlier in the week and couldn’t find even a quarter of the things needed. CVS and RiteAid are wiped out daily. Same story with all of the hardware stores. Everyone is out there trying to assemble their own emergency stockpile from the federal disaster checklist.”

“I got all my stuff,” Charlie Thornton whispered, who had drifted over to Alex’s right side during Nicki’s speech. “Got it all the week before last. You’re smart to hide your firewood in the garage. I didn’t know what to make of it when I talked to you. I knew you were up to something, then it suddenly hit me. Of course. I moved all of mine in a few days later. I have to thank you. It got me thinking about the whole situation. I went on a few of the NRA websites, found a shitload of survival information, and I got a jump start on those checklists. While everyone else was waiting in line for groceries, I spent the better part of three days buying up supplies and dried food, MREs from the surplus stores, whatever I could get my hands on. I bet you have the same thing over there,” he whispered with glee.

“I might have some supplies on hand,” he said, studying Charlie’s face.

Actually, he doesn’t look too crazy.

“…so, if you could list on this sheet what supplies or food you have on hand, we can create sort of our own Durham Road stockpile. If someone needs a certain item, then they can get it, as long as they’ve put into the stockpile themselves. It’s kind of like a swap shop idea,” Nicki was saying.

“I don’t know. How would we manage this stockpile? Would it be located in one place? Or just a list of who has what and you can trade? It sounds kind of complicated, and…I don’t know,” Beverly Silva said.

A majority of the crowd backed her sentiment, and there was considerable protest from all corners of the driveway. Alex focused on Todd, whose face had turned a few shades redder since Beverly opened her mouth.

“Yeah, I don’t feel comfortable taking what I have and putting it in a central location. Is that what you’re suggesting?” Jamie McDaniels asked, who was visibly shivering.

“Uh, it’s just an idea, but if we all have an idea of how much food is available, then…well, we can work on a system,” Nicki said.

“The idea isn’t to start a communal soup kitchen, but like Nicki said, it would help to get an idea of what we have here if times get really tough,” Laura Burton said, looking to Sarah Quinn for confirmation.

Oddly enough, Sarah Quinn did not look pleased by this agenda item. As one of the lead coordinators, Alex had expected her to support the idea, but she appeared to have suddenly grasped the true meaning of the concept’s design—that everyone else in the neighborhood would know exactly how much food she had on hand, and that she’d be expected to share some of that food in the very near future. Alex remembered that Sarah was one of the first people on the block to head to the Hannigan’s when the massive food lines began forming.

“We can revisit this at the next meeting after everyone has had time to think about it. It’s a lot to ask, given the fact that none of us are in great shape when it comes to food. If you want to put this information down now on the sheet, you’re encouraged to do so,” Sarah dodged.

He could tell that the meeting was about to break apart on its own. The last agenda item had hit everyone deeply, and it was clear that nobody relished the idea of giving up any of their food. Alex saw Todd stirring in his seat.

“Can I say something here?” Todd asked, standing and facing most of the crowd on the driveway. “I’m not sure what everyone’s problem is with sharing food. To be honest, it seems a bit selfish to me, and frankly, I’m surprised. We’ve had parties at our house over the years, and we’ve always put out a nice spread for everyone. We’re all neighbors, right?” he asked, his face reaching a deep red color.

“Yeah, but that’s what you do when you host a party,” Michelle Hayes said cynically. “This is a bit different. I agree with Beverly and Jamie. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want any of you knowing how much food I have in my house. That’s my family’s business.”

“Well, I don’t mind telling you how much food I have,” Todd responded.

“How much food
do
you have, Todd?” Charlie blurted.

Alex inched away from him. “You’re on your own with this nut,” he whispered to Ed.

“What do you mean?” Todd responded, stunned by the blunt question.

“If you don’t care, then tell all of us how much food you have on hand,” Charlie demanded.

“Well, I don’t know exactly. I’d have to take a good look and figure it out,” Todd said, flustered.

“Bullshit. You know exactly what you have. In terms of a regular grocery week, how many weeks do you have on hand?” Charlie persisted.

“Probably…like, a few… I don’t know. Not much,” Todd admitted.

“Exactly. Now I know why you’re pushing this socialist agenda so hard. You don’t have shit. That’s why nobody else likes this idea either. Because they don’t want to start supporting other households from the very beginning of this crisis. I agree with Alex here. This pandemic thing isn’t going to last a few weeks. More like a few months, maybe longer. And you want the handouts to start next week? You can still get food at the stores. It’s rationed, but the lines are faster, and each member of your family with a driver’s license can show up once a day. I suggest that everyone take full advantage of this system. There’s just no excuse for anyone having nothing,” Charlie concluded.

Alex put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “You all right, man? I swear, you’re gonna explode.”

“Look, I’ve got four kids at home and—” Todd started.

“You work from home, Todd. The stores open at six a.m. Figure it out!” Charlie said.

Todd moved around the chairs and was restrained by his neighbor, Daniel Lewis.

Thank God.

Eric Bishop stood up and turned around. “Someone needs to slap a muzzle on him,” Eric said, indicating Alex, as his wife nodded in agreement.

“What's your problem today, Eric?” Alex asked, and the entire crowd went silent.

“What do you mean, what’s my problem? You and your friend came here with the wrong attitude. This whole meeting was put together so we could help each other. Todd’s idea is just as valid as anyone else’s.”

“Great, another communist with nothing to throw into the pile but empty hands,” Charlie yelled.

Great. How did I suddenly become this guy’s champion?

“Charlie, you gotta take it easy. Okay?” Alex whispered to him.

Charlie actually looked composed compared to Todd, Eric, and several other jeering neighbors. He appeared at ease with the confrontation, which frightened Alex for a couple of reasons: Charlie was either slightly sociopathic, or he was carrying a weapon. Neither possibility comforted him.

I need to defuse this ASAP.

“If you’re not here to help, then get the hell out of here,” Tom Hodges said.

Mark and Beverly Silva edged away from Tom and Vicki, as Mike Lynch echoed Tom’s sentiment. He saw Charlie stiffen.

This is getting ugly.

“Take it easy, guys,” Alex cautioned, passing glances at Tom and Eric. “I happen to strongly agree with them. I don’t want anyone else shopping at my house for food or supplies. I can tell you right now it won’t work. I didn’t exactly see a lot of enthusiastic faces when Nicki described the idea. Nobody wants to put an inventory of their house out there. I sure as hell don’t. So don’t get pissed at Charlie. He said exactly what most of us were thinking.”

“Maybe we should just forget about helping each other at all. You don’t sound like much of a team player, Alex,” Eric said.

“I’m willing to help out, but we’re all dealing with a very unique set of circumstances. When the power goes out after a nasty spring storm, I have no problem opening my house to all of you. Everyone here knows that. We’ve all done last minute babysitting for each other. This is going to be very different, and I think we all need to get a grip on that.”

Shut up, please.

“I guess I’m not getting it,” Andrew Greene said in a hostile tone.

Alex guessed that Andrew was also part of what appeared to be a growing faction of disgruntled neighbors from the northern loop of Durham Road. The Greens lived next door to the Bartletts’ house, and just a few houses down from the Burtons’, smack in the middle of what Charlie might now call the socialist side of Durham Road. He was not surprised at how quickly the neighborhood had become polarized at the meeting. Each side of the loop tended to band together at social events, and even the kids’ interaction was loosely bound by the north/south polarization of the neighborhood. The neighborhood was no longer than one third of a mile, end to end, and there still existed a wide separation. What surprised Alex was how quickly animosity rose to the surface at this meeting.

Deep down, he really didn’t care how the meeting went. His only goal was to keep his family alive and intact. He hadn’t lied when he said that he was willing to help the neighborhood. His assistance would be guided by his own rules of engagement, and the first overriding rule was that he wouldn’t let anything jeopardize his family’s safety. Keeping most of his neighbors placated for now might be an important part of this strategy.

“I can answer your question, but first, let me say that I really meant what I said about helping. We all probably have something to offer. As most of you know, I work…rather,
worked
for Biosphere pharmaceuticals, the company that makes TerraFlu, an anti-viral similar to Tamiflu. When I left the company, I managed to retain about twenty courses of therapy, which is enough for twenty people. I would be more than happy to relinquish these into a communal pool, and then as people get sick, they can be treated,” he said, mentally redoing the math.

28 to give out. Gave 12 to the Murrays. 16. Close enough.

“
If
anyone gets sick,” Andrew said.

“Which brings me back to answering your question. We all need to get a solid grip on the fact that some of you, maybe many of you, are going to get sick. Especially if you put some of these ideas into play,” Alex said, and the group erupted into a verbal geyser of doubt and anger, all directed at Alex.

“Hey, hey…let Alex finish,” Ed yelled.

“Yeah, I want to hear the rest of this,” Michelle Hayes called out.

The group calmed down, and Alex continued, though he seriously considered just walking away. He wasn’t sure if he was helping or hurting his situation.

“Don’t shoot the messenger. My point is that the only way to guarantee that you won’t catch the flu is to quarantine your entire family. That means zero, or at a minimum, very controlled contact with anyone outside of your family. That’s really the only way.

“So, am I going to put my name down on the daycare list? No. Am I going to volunteer to drive potentially infected people to the hospital? No. Am I willing to be part of a neighborhood crime patrol when police service is no longer available? Sure. You all need to start thinking like this, or the flu is going to spread through the neighborhood like wildfire.”

Eric and Stephanie Bishop were both shaking their heads, with disgusted looks on their faces. Alex made a quick mental assessment of the scene, dividing the group into two factions: those that thought he was an asshole, and those that either didn’t know what to think or seemed to support his ideas.