Contagion

EPILOGUE

NEW YORK CITY

The game to eleven was tied at ten apiece. The rules dictated a win by two, so a one-point layup wouldn’t clinch it but a long two-pointer would. This was in the back of Jack’s mind as he dribbled upcourt. He was being mercilessly hounded by an aggressive player by the name of Flash whom Jack knew was faster than he.

The competition was fierce. Players on the sidelines waiting to play were loudly supporting the other team, a sharp contrast to their typical studied indifference. The reason for the change was the fact that Jack’s team had been winning all night, mainly because Jack was teamed up with a particularly good mix of players that included Warren and Spit.

Jack normally didn’t bring the ball downcourt. That was Warren’s job. But on the previous play, to Jack’s chagrin, Flash had made a driving layup to tie the game, and after the ball had passed through the basket it had ended up in Jack’s hands. In order to get the ball downcourt as fast as possible, Spit had stepped out. When Jack gave him the ball, Spit gave it right back.

As Jack pulled up at the top of the key, Warren faked one direction and then made a rush for the basket. Jack saw this maneuver out of the corner of his eye and cocked his arm with the intent of passing the ball to Warren.

Flash anticipated the pass and dropped back in hopes of intercepting it. All at once Jack was in the clear, and he changed his mind about passing. Instead he let fly one of his normally reliable jumpers. Unfortunately the ball hit the back of the rim and bounced directly into Flash’s waiting hands.

The tide then swept back in the other direction, to the glee of the onlookers.

Flash brought the ball rapidly downcourt. Jack was intent on denying him the opportunity of repeating his driving layup, but inadvertently gave him too much room. To Jack’s surprise, since Flash was not an outside shooter, Flash pulled up and from “downtown” let fly his own jumper.

To Jack’s horror it was “nothing-but-net” as the shot passed through the basket. A cheer rose up from the sidelines. The game had been won by the underdogs.

Flash high-stepped around the court holding his arms straight and stiffly to his sides with his palms out. All his teammates slapped his palms in a congratulatory ritual, as did some of the onlookers.

Warren drifted over to Jack with a disgusted look on his face.

“You should have passed the friggin’ ball,” Warren said.

“My bad,” Jack said. He was embarrassed. He’d made three mistakes in a row.

“Shit,” Warren said. “With these new kicks of mine I didn’t think I could lose.”

Jack looked down at the spanking-new pair of Nikes Warren was referring to and then at his own scuffed and scarred Filas. “Maybe I need some new kicks myself.”

“Jack! Hey, Jack!” a female voice called out. “Hello!”

Jack looked through the chain-link fence separating the playground from the sidewalk. It was Laurie.

“Hey, kid!” Warren said to Jack. “Looks like your shortie has decided to pay the courts a visit.”

The game-winning celebration stopped. All eyes turned to Laurie. Girlfriends and wives didn’t come to the courts. Whether they weren’t inclined or whether they were actively excluded, Jack didn’t know. But the infraction of Laurie’s unexpected arrival made him feel uncomfortable. He’d always tried to play by the playground’s mostly unspoken rules.

“I think she wants to rap,” Warren said. Laurie was waving Jack over.

“I didn’t invite her,” Jack said. “We were supposed to meet later.”

“No problem,” Warren said. “She’s a looker. You must be a better lover than you are a b-ball player.”

Jack laughed in spite of himself, then walked over to Laurie. Behind him he heard the celebration recommence, and he relaxed a degree.

“Now I know the stories are all true,” Laurie said. “You really do play basketball.”

“I hope you didn’t see the last three plays,” Jack said. “You wouldn’t have guessed I played much if you had.”

“I know we weren’t supposed to meet until nine, but I couldn’t wait to talk to you,” Laurie said.

“What’s happened?” Jack asked.

“You got a call from a Nicole Marquette from the CDC,” Laurie said. “Apparently she was so disappointed not to get you that Marjorie, the operator, put her through to me. Nicole asked me to relay a message to you.”

“Well?” Jack questioned.

“The CDC is officially putting the crash vaccine program on hold,” Laurie said. “There hasn’t been a new case of the Alaska-strain influenza for two weeks. The quarantine efforts have worked. Apparently the outbreak has been contained just the way the seventy-six swine flu was.”

“That’s great news!” Jack said. Over the past week he’d been praying that this would happen, and Laurie knew it. After fifty-two cases with thirty-four deaths there had been a lull. Everyone involved was holding his breath.

“Did she offer any explanations as to why they think this has occurred?” Jack asked.

“She did,” Laurie said. “Their studies have shown that the virus is unusually unstable outside of a host. They believe that the temperature must have varied in the buried Eskimo hut and might have even approached thawing on occasion. That’s a far cry from the usual minus fifty degrees at which viruses are typically stored.”

“Too bad it didn’t affect its pathogenicity as well,” Jack said.

“But at least it made the CDC-engineered quarantine effective,” Laurie said, “which everyone knows isn’t the usual case with influenza. Apparently with the Alaska strain, contacts had to have relatively sustained close contact with an infected individual for transmission to occur.”

“I think we were all very lucky,” Jack said. “The pharmaceutical industry deserves a lot of credit too. They came through with all the rimantadine needed in record time.”

“Are you finished playing basketball?” Laurie asked. She looked over Jack’s shoulder and could see that another game had commenced.

“I’m afraid so,” Jack said. “My team lost, thanks to me.”

“Is that man you were talking with when I arrived Warren?” Laurie asked.

“That’s right,” Jack said.

“He’s just as you described,” Laurie said. “He looks impressive. But there’s one thing I don’t understand. How do those shorts of his stay on? They are so oversized and he has such narrow hips.”

Jack let out a laugh. He looked back at Warren casually shooting foul shots like a machine. The funny thing was that Laurie was right: Warren’s shorts defied Newton’s law of gravity. Jack was just so accustomed to the hip-hop gear, he’d never questioned it.

“I guess it’s a mystery to me too,” Jack said. “You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

“Okay,” Laurie said agreeably. “I’d like to meet him anyway.”

Jack turned back to her with a quizzical look.

“I’m serious,” she said. “I’d like to meet this man you are in awe of and who saved your life.”

“Don’t ask him about his drawers,” Jack cautioned. He had no idea how that would go over.

“Please!” Laurie said. “I do have some social sense.”

Jack called out to Warren and waved him over. Warren sauntered to the fence, dribbling his basketball. Jack was unsure of the situation and didn’t know what to expect. He introduced the two people, and to his surprise they got along well.

“It’s probably not my place to say this…” Laurie began after they had spoken for a while. “And Jack might wish I didn’t, but…”

Jack cringed. He had no idea what Laurie was about to say.

“… I’d like to thank you personally for what you did for Jack.”

Warren shrugged. “I might not have taken my ride all the way up there if I knew he wasn’t going to pass me the ball tonight.”

Jack formed his hand into a semi-fist and cuffed the top of Warren’s head.

Warren flinched and ducked out of the way. “Nice meeting you, Laurie,” he said. “I’m glad you stopped by. Me and some of the other brothers have been a bit worried about the old man here. We’re glad to see that he has a shortie after all.”

“What’s a shortie?” Laurie asked.

“Girlfriend,” Jack translated.

“Come anytime, Laurie,” Warren said. “You sure are better-looking than this kid.” He took a swipe at Jack and then dribbled back to where he’d been shooting foul shots.

“ ‘Shortie’ for girlfriend?” Laurie questioned.

“It’s just rap-talk,” Jack said. “Shortie is a lot more flattering than some of the terms. But you’re not supposed to take any of it literally.”

“Don’t get me wrong! I wasn’t offended,” Laurie said. “In fact, why don’t you ask him and his ‘shortie’ to come to dinner with us. I’d like to get to know him better.”

Jack shrugged and looked back at Warren. “That’s an idea,” he said. “I wonder if he’d come.”

“You’ll never know unless you ask,” Laurie said.

“I can’t argue with you there,” Jack said.

“I assume he has a girlfriend,” Laurie said.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know,” Jack said.

“You mean to tell me you were quarantined with the man for a week and you don’t even know if he has a girlfriend?” Laurie said. “What did you men talk about all that time?”

“I can’t remember,” Jack said. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.”

Jack walked over to Warren and asked him if he’d come to dinner with them and bring his “shortie.”

“That is, if you have one,” Jack added.

“Of course I have one,” Warren said. He stared at Jack for a beat, then looked over at Laurie. “Was it her idea?”

“Yeah,” Jack admitted. “But I think it’s a good one. The reason I never asked in the past is because I never thought you’d come.”

“Where?”

“A restaurant called Elios on the East Side,” Jack said. “At nine. It’s my treat.”

“Cool,” Warren said. “How you getting over there?”

“I suppose we’ll take a taxi from my place,” Jack said.

“No need,” Warren said. “My ride’s handy. I’ll pick you up at quarter of nine.”

“See you then,” Jack said. He turned and started back toward Laurie.

“This doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed that you didn’t pass me the ball on that last run,” Warren called out.

Jack smiled and waved over his shoulder. When he got back to Laurie he told her that Warren was coming.

“Wonderful,” Laurie said.

“I agree,” Jack said. “I’ll be dining with two of the four people who saved my life.”

“Where are the other two?” Laurie asked.

“Unfortunately, Slam is no longer with us,” Jack said regretfully. “That’s a story I have yet to tell you. Spit is the fellow over on the sidelines in the bright red sweatshirt.”

“Why not ask him to dinner too,” Laurie suggested.

“Another night,” Jack said. “I’d rather this not be a party. I’m looking forward to the conversation. You learned more about Warren in two minutes than I’ve learned in months.”

“I’ll never understand what you men talk about,” Laurie said.

“Listen, I’ve got to shower and dress,” Jack said. “Do you mind coming up to my place?”

“Not at all,” Laurie said. “I’m kind of curious, the way you’ve described it.”

“It’s not pretty,” Jack warned.

“Lead on!” Laurie commanded.

Jack was pleased there were no homeless people asleep in the hall of his tenement, but to make up for that blessing the endless argument on the second floor was as loud as ever. Nevertheless, Laurie didn’t seem to mind and had no comment until they were safely inside Jack’s apartment. There she glanced around and said it looked warm and comfortable, like an oasis.

“It’ll only take me a few minutes to get ready,” Jack said. “Can I offer you something? Actually I don’t have much. How about a beer?”

Laurie declined and told Jack to go ahead and shower. He tried to give her something to read, but she declined that as well.

“I don’t have a TV,” Jack said apologetically.

“I noticed,” Laurie said.

“In this building a TV is too much of a temptation,” Jack said. “It would walk out of here too fast.”

“Talking about TV,” Laurie said, “have you seen those National Health commercials everyone is talking about, the ‘no wait’ ones?”

“No, I haven’t,” Jack said.

“You should,” Laurie said. “They’re amazingly effective. One of them has become an overnight classic. It’s the one with the tag line ‘We wait for you, you don’t wait for us.’ It’s very clever. If you can believe it, it’s even caused National Health’s stock to go up.”

“Could we talk about something else?” Jack said.

“Of course,” Laurie said. She cocked her head to the side. “What’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s not you, it’s me,” Jack said. “Sometimes I’m overly sensitive. Medical advertising has always been a pet peeve of mine, and lately I feel even more strongly about it. But don’t worry; I’ll explain it later.”