“This isn’t the first time we’ve faced something like this but not to this extent,” said Kate. “We only have so many hospital beds. Our little hospital can’t continue to accept patients, knowing that we’re running out of space.”
“I’m not sure what else to do,” said Kennedy standing to leave. “Right now, there’s just so much we don’t know. Why do some patients react positively to certain antibiotics and others don’t? Why do some patients suffer from gastrointestinal issues, and others it’s all from the neck up? They get headaches, sore throats, fevers, yet nothing gastrointestinal. It’s an even split of those who die in spite of the different symptoms. I just don’t get it.”
“You’ll get there, honey,” said JT. “Come on. Let’s get you home for a hot bath and bed. You need to sleep.”
When the medical team was gone, all down for the night, the others brainstormed ideas for why this was happening. When Mama Irene, Matthew, Franklin and a few of the other spirits walked up, they all wondered the same thing. What do they know?
“I don’t think we can help at all,” said Matthew. “We’ve certainly had flu outbreaks on the property, polio, measles, all of the usual but nothing like this.”
“I agree with Matthew,” said Martha. “The epidemic that killed Claudette’s family was related to dysentery and some other strange virus. But it was here, then it was gone. This seems to be staying and I’m not sure why. We’ve asked the other spirits if they’ve heard or seen anything and its all the same. Nothing of note.
“We’re talking about hundreds of years of history here. We just may not know what is important to report. I’m sorry.”
“Well, there’s damn sure something of note,” said Luke. “We just might not know what it is or what we’re seeing. Get some rest. We’ll all be back at this tomorrow.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Harmon? You alright? If you’re sick, don’t stay. You need to go home,” said the supervisor.
“No, no,” he said wiping his nose for the umpteenth time. “I’m fine. Same as always. My damn allergies are killin’ me and I got too much work to get done. Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure it all out.”
“Alright, if you say so. Just know that you’ve got sick days to use. Don’t stay and get others sick.”
He nodded at his boss and turned back to his work. He’d been on the job for more thirty years and had a pattern and routine down that made him one of the most productive employees they had. He wasn’t about to let some young kid step in and take his place.
Only a few years away from retirement age, he was determined to get the full benefits and finally head out to his cabin in the bayou, catch some fish, shoot some ducks or gators, and just relax.
A widower for more than six years now, he and Shirley had every intention of retiring together. Unfortunately, breast cancer took her too soon and he was left alone. No children, no grandchildren, and their siblings all living out of state.
Harmon Blanchet was on his own, living in the small house paid for with blood, sweat, and tears. He wasn’t about to give up now.
Blowing his nose once again, he shook his head and touched his forehead to see if the fever had subsided. It seemed to be on and off now for weeks, which was why he blew it off as allergies. He never bothered to ask his doctors whether or not fever was normal with allergies.
He finished the last bin of work for the day and looked up at the clock. Right on time. Just the way he liked it. No one would ever say that Harmon Blanchet didn’t complete his daily work. No sir. He was a machine and that’s the way he liked it.
Leaving the parking lot, he turned right to head to the grocery store. He only needed a few things, so he ran inside to get out of the bitter wind. Grabbing the limited number of items he needed, he used the self-checkout, bagged his groceries, and headed back out to the car.
In spite of having two bags of food in the trunk, he decided to stop at Alleman’s Bar and Grill to have a shrimp po-boy and bowl of gumbo. Just what the doctor ordered.
“Evenin’ Harm,” said the bartender. “Nice to see you.”
“Nice to be here,” he grinned, wiping his nose. “Slow night, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s been this way for a few weeks now. Lots of folks have been real sick. Jedediah didn’t make it.”
“No shit,” he frowned. “I’m real sorry to hear that. He was a good man.”
“Same with Flora and Cora, the old sisters that used to sit in that corner table,” he said pointing toward the empty table. “Got sick on a Monday and both were dead by Saturday.”
“Damn,” muttered Harm.
His food was brought out a while later and he finished it as quickly as possible. With the cold outside, he wasn’t worried about the groceries spoiling but the truth was, he wanted to take a hot shower and get to bed. It would be another rough day tomorrow and if he didn’t start feeling better soon, he’d be forced to go to the doctor. Not something that made him happy.
He left a stack of bills on the bar for his meal and waved as he exited the place. A while later, groceries put away and the hot shower done, he fell into bed, exhausted.
“Tomorrow will be better,” he whispered to no one but himself. “I just know it.”
CHAPTER NINE
