“Did you think it would stop?”
“The enthusiasm over it, yes. Of course, like the Spanish flu, we can only base our data on what we get. It’s not accurate. Not by a long shot. I mean, how many people are dying in their homes? More are than are not.”
Kurt noticed a timer on the television, the signature countdown that a broadcast was about to begin. “So, tell me, what are we gonna watch that is so important?”
“Something refreshing. For the past week, we have been bombarded with reports of death. Tonight there’s a change of pace, and I think it’s a breath of fresh air for anyone who is still watching the news. This evening we’re going to watch life in a small town named Lodi.”
Kurt’s chuckle caused a slight cough. “Is it the new Andy Griffith Show in a reality show format? I have Owens sort of pictured like him.”
“Pictured like Andy Griffith? Perhaps.” Henry laughed. “Then again, it’s a lot better than him looking like Barney Fife.”
Lodi, Ohio
Central Park. It was located in the center of the main business district of Lodi, the streets around it often used for the overflow of people for the fairs, concerts, festivals and so forth. But the reason for this gathering wasn’t a celebration, it was for information. Every resident of Lodi congregated in Central Park and the surrounding streets to hear what was going on.
Everything was ready. People grew antsy waiting for the start of the assembly that was already ten minutes late.
“Guys,” Mick said, walking up to Dustin and his friend Jerry, who were setting up a video camera. “What the hell? I have to start this.”
“Almost done, Mick.” Dustin worked the camera. “This is a professional camera and I only completed Intro to Television one.”
“Why… why are we doing this?” Mick asked.
“Because when I called the news—”
“You called the news?” Mick questioned.
“They need an inside man, Mick,” Dustin stated. “I’m it. I pass this to Russ at the check point. Russ gives it to the reporter, I get fifty bucks in a plastic bag.”
Mick blinked. “Fifty bucks… why in a plastic bag?”
“Lars said it had to be delivered that way. And he’ll sterilize it or something like that to fry off any germs. Hey, Mick, do you suppose I can use this on a future resume?”
Mick fought to find the right words. His mind was elsewhere. “Dustin, I don’t know. Yes. Yes, but only if you hurry it along.”
“We’re ready,” Dustin said. “I think. Jerry, we ready?”
Jerry, behind the camera, gave a thumbs up.
“We’re ready,” Dustin nodded.
Jerry peered up. “Hey, if Chief Owens is gonna be on national news shouldn’t he be wearing a Chief of Police uniform and hat?”
“What, are you nuts?” Dustin scoffed. “That isn’t Mick. He doesn’t need to be wearing any stupid police uniform for people to take him seriously.”
Mick grumbled and pointed backwards. “I’m going to the gazebo. We’re starting.”
“All set up,” Patrick stated as he walked past Lars, who stood to the left of the gazebo.
“Oh, great.” Lars patted Patrick’s back. “I’m awful with new technology.”
Patrick snickered. “It’s a slide projector.”
“It’s a gadget.”
“What exactly are you showing?” Patrick asked.
“Part of my flu demonstration,” Lars answered. “Mick feels we might get some flak from people about the lockout. He wants me to give them a frightening dose of reality.”
“How hard a reality are you giving them?”
Lars shook his head. “Mild. These are common people, Patrick, they’re intelligent. They don’t need anything too traumatic to give them reality.”
“Nothing nightmarish?”
Lars chuckled. “Please. And damage my legendary reputation? No, nothing nightmarish.”
“Speaking of legendary reputations…”
“Shh,” Lars said then pointed to the gazebo.
The slight squeal of feedback silenced the gathering crowd and caused Mick to cringe. But the cringe paled in comparison to the aggravated look on his face when he stepped back from the podium and whacked his head on the dangling projection screen.
“Christ.” Mick rubbed the back of his head then went back to the microphone. “Evening…”
A mumbling of return “evenings” came from the crowd.
“I’m not real good with public speaking. I wanted Mayor Connally to do this, but he says I should be the one.” Mick leaned down to the podium. “There are a lot of rumors floating around. I could have spoken to a lot of you today. But I figured, give you the facts straight out, all together. No debates between you as to what is true and what is not. I’m gonna guarantee a lot of what you’ve heard is true. I’ve got… I’ve got a ton to tell you, including why the Ohio State Riders Association is gathered around Lodi. There are new rules, regulations, and temporary laws I have to lay out. You may not like them. So in order to put a stop to any rumors, I figured I’d tell you why it’s being done. And the best way to do that, the best way to put you in the right frame of mind is for our man Lars Rayburn to explain… Lars?” Mick held out his hand and moved back.
Patrick wasn’t sure whether he was witnessing a mere doctor or an Elvis Presley equivalent approaching the podium at the gazebo. The crowd cheering and screaming was so long and loud that Patrick held his ears. He watched as Lars, arm held high, waving, stood before the podium. The exuberance of the crowd produced an instant electricity Patrick had only felt once before in his life, and that was when he saw Hulk Hogan wrestle in Detroit, Michigan.
Lars flashed a grin, leaned into the microphone and spoke, “Good evening.” The crowd responded with more enthusiasm than that with which they had greeted Mick.
Patrick had to wonder what was going on, especially when one lone male voice far in the back of the crowd shouted out, “We love you, Lars!” Patrick turned with an odd look, searching for the man.
Lars smiled again. “Ah, thank you. And you people wonder why I call Lodi my true home.” He paused for the applause then spoke like a politician trying to win votes. “I love it here. You know that. That is one reason everything in Lodi is happening. You’re confused. Understandable. Between Mick and me, we hope to ease that confusion. Why are we here?” Lars looked around the faces. “The flu. It has become a nasty word, one that all people fear. But let’s face it. Let’s… let’s say it. Let me hear you… the flu.” Lars waited and heard some mumbling. “No, you can do better than that. Everyone…”
Patrick’s eyelids fluttered when the residents shouted out, “The flu!”
“Good. Very good. Now that we’ve said it, let’s get to know it, shall we?” Lars said. “As all of you know, I am a doctor. A research doctor, and I have worked on this flu. I will lie to you no more than if you were my own mother. This flu kills. It… kills. Ninety-five percent or even more of all those who get it… die. From what I’ve seen, I will tell you that the death rate is higher. They say if you’re thirteen you have a near hundred percent chance of catching the flu. They say if you’re sixty…” Lars shrugged, “seventy-five percent chance. I say it doesn’t matter. Old, young, we have to try to stop you from getting it. My hospital set-up in the gymnasium is a precautionary measure should you get the flu. It is my hope that the vaccinations that all of you received will lower your chances of catching the flu and build your immunities to it. But it will only lower them. Chances are, if the flu strikes here, you’ll get it. And it is here in Lodi that we will fight to stop it from taking the number of lives it is claiming outside of our home. We can do it, but only if you stay on top of it. Monitor yourself and the ones you love. Coughing. Sneezing. Low fever. Remember these. These are your onset symptoms. A simple prick of your finger will tell me if you have the flu. If you think you have it, see me. I don’t care if you come to me a hundred times. I’ll run the test. It is imperative that you do. If you have the flu, I must start antibiotic treatment on you within five to ten hours. If not, in almost all cases, septicemia sets in fully. That, my friends, is a poison, the poison that caused the Black Plague, a poison that melts every tissue in your body. You get that, you die… painfully. Now…” Lars reached behind him and pointed at the huge white screen. “I want to get this point across. In order to do so, my friends at the WHO and the CDC have sent me some pictorials of what has happened thus far in the flu battle. I want you to see for yourself that the actions Mick has taken should not be argued with, but followed without question or doubt.” Lars nodded his head. “Bill? Start that.”