“Mick, stay.”
“Dylan, no. I have no clothes here, I—”
“Go get them.”
Mick stopped at the door. “I’ll think about it…”
They continued down the hall and to the stairs. The sound of the television carried to them as they descended.
Mick knew what the boys were watching. As soon as he stepped into the living room, he felt Dylan squeeze his hand tighter. They didn’t need to hear what the news was saying, the media provided a visual that was frightening enough. Displayed on the screen of the television was a map of the United States. Little red dots, signifying infected sites, danced sporadically here and there across the states like measles.
Chris stared at the screen, eyes glued, hands folded.
Hearing Mick and his mother enter the room, Dustin turned around from his seat on the couch. “It spread,” his voice cracked. “Washington State, Nevada, Utah. They shut those states down. Know that plane that was quarantined in Cleveland?”
Mick slowly nodded.
“People are sick on there, Mick,” Dustin spoke with desperation. “It’s in Ohio. Are they gonna close us down, too?”
“I don’t know,” Mick spoke slowly. “I don’t know what to tell you. Would you feel better if I went down to the station to see what the State Police have heard?”
Hurriedly, Chris spun around. “I would.”
“Me, too,” Dustin agreed.
Mick looked at Dylan. “You?”
“Yes,” Dylan answered in a whisper. “I would, too.”
“I’ll be back.” Mick kissed Dylan softly then stepped away.
“Mick?” She grabbed his hand. “Will you stay now? Will you stay tonight?”
“Dylan…”
“Mick. I’m scared.” Dylan’s eyes glanced at the television. “I’m scared of this.”
“Sweetheart, I understand. But you have to understand…” Mick laid his hand on her cheek, “as much as I want to be your hero, I can’t protect you from this. Not this.” He glanced at the map on the television and his voice dropped to a barely-heard whisper. “I don’t think anyone can.”
ABATED HOPE
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lodi, Ohio
September 2nd
The cooking bacon hissed loudly as it sprayed grease at Mick when he turned away from the pan for a split second.
“Oh, son of a bitch. Shit.” He turned off the burner, banged the pan onto the counter and shook his slightly-burned arm. “Goddamn electric stoves. I want my gas range.” Mick shut off the radio as he returned to the stove.
A unison ‘Hey!’ came from Dustin, Chris, and Tigger, who sat at the kitchen table.
“Oh, I get blistered and you don’t care. I shut off the radio and you yell. You don’t need to hear that.” Mick opened a cabinet and pulled out plates. “You need to eat.”
Listening to Mick’s grumbling, Dustin played with the edge of his napkin as. “You’re gonna have to get used to the stove if you’re living here.”
“I’m not living here.” Mick continued to put the breakfast food on plates.
“You haven’t left,” Dustin said. “In a while…”
“I know. I know,” Mick said.
“So you don’t want to live here?” Dustin asked.
“I do, but the upstanding moral side of me won’t allow it.” Mick flashed a quick grin and set two plates down and returned to the stove for the other two.
“Why’d you wake us up so early?” Chris asked. “We don’t have school.”
Tigger pouted. “I wanted to go to school. I was going to real school, too.”
Chris looked up at Mick. “Didn’t you know we don’t have school?”
Mick started to speak.
Dustin answered, “Of course he knew we didn’t have school, you idiot. He’s the chief of police. If he knows Ohio is shut down, he knows we didn’t have school.” After shaking his head he looked at Mick who joined them at the table. “Did you?”
Mick grumbled, “Yeah, I knew. But you can’t sleep all day. If I don’t feed you before I leave, you may not eat. So, eat. Now.” Just as Mick started to eat, he finally noticed Tigger. Tigger’s little nose barely reached the edge of the table. “Where’s your booster seat?”
“I don’t want a booster seat. I’m not a baby.” Tigger started to adjust himself. “Look, I’ll just kneel.”
“Don’t kneel,” Mick told him. “You’ll…” he cringed at the crash, “…fall. Christ.” He reached down and picked up Tigger. “You okay?’
“Fine,” Tigger grumbled as he walked across the kitchen and picked up his booster.
His mind seemingly far off, Dustin ran his fork through his eggs. “Mick, are you not letting us listen to the news because you don’t want us to know the truth?”
Mick stared for a second. “Dustin, I don’t want you to listen to the news because we’re having a meal. We talk over a meal. And… I give you all the truth about it. I don’t hold anything back from you boys.”
Dustin shrugged. “I guess.”
“What do you mean, you guess?” Mick asked. “Didn’t you know Ohio was being shut down way before the whole town did? I tell you so you’re informed; not telling you isn’t gonna help. You just don’t need to start your day out by listening to the updated list of affected areas and horror tales of rioting.”
“I don’t like the pictures of the rioting.” Chris shook his head. “Did you see it on the news? Did you see what happened in Cleveland? We could see the smoke, Mick. We could see the smoke from Diggins’ Drugstore roof.”
“What the hell were you doing on the roof?” Mick snapped. “And… I know. I saw it, too.”
“Is it gonna happen here?” Chris asked. “The rioting?”
Dustin interjected, “What are you, a moron? That’s insulting to Mick. Of course it isn’t gonna happen here with Mick being the chief.” He looked at Mick. “Is it?”
“No,” Mick said almost offended. “And Tigger, what the hell is taking you so long with that booster?”
“It’s too heavy. I can’t lift it.”
Mick stood up to retrieve it.
“Mick,” Dustin said, “be honest, all right? Is another reason you don’t want us to know about the flu is because you don’t want us to put the truth together about Mom?”
Seat under one arm, Tigger under the other, Mick seemed dumbfounded as he walked to the table. “What truth about your mother?”
“Why she’s still in bed,” Dustin said.
Adjusting Tigger and strapping him down, Mick responded, “Your mother is still in bed because she was up until four-thirty this morning watching the news and biting her nails to the point that they bled.”
“She doesn’t have the flu?” Dustin asked.
“No!”
Chris spoke up, “We think she does. She thinks she does. Mick… she was coughing last night.”
“Boys,” Mick looked at each of their faces before continuing. “She was coughing because she’s neurotic. She doesn’t have the flu. Just like she didn’t have the chicken pox for the tenth time. Just like she didn’t have the shingles, or the measles, or the yellow fever. You boys listen all the time. What are the first symptoms?”
Dustin answered. “Coughing, sneezing, fever…”
Mick snapped his finger. “That’s the one. Fever. Raging fever if I heard right. Your mom doesn’t have even a hint of a temperature.”