Flu Pandemics

Today, we see much speculation in the media about the potential effects of the next flu pandemic. The speed of world travel is a catalyst that serves to heighten concerns.
 

The fictional story of Little Woods passes through a short but intense outbreak of a mutated strain of the H5N1 virus that doubles the normal flu and pneumonia morbidity, undermines the price of real estate, and inspires urbanites to flee the crowded confines of the city.

 

A real pandemic could be worse, as with the Spanish Flu of 1918 when millions died worldwide.
 

 

Excerpt: Little Woods (June - 21st Century: Mother's Love)

 

The little girl’s arm still bore the tell-tale bandage of a recent vaccination just below the ruffled shoulder of her blue dress. She sang in time with the beat of her rope:

 

Hong Kong to Chi-Town, crimson stream,

Hunker down in quarantine.

Live or not, in God we trust.

Fever hot sends dust to dust.

 

 

Excerpt: Little Woods (May - 21st Century: Flu)

 

“Come on, Dee. You can do it. Just breathe in real hard. Keep goin’, baby.” Russ held Dee’s hand and laid a wet rag across her forehead. When she was conscious, he encouraged her to take small portions of soda and crackers. Less frequently, he tried to coax her to take some flu medicine. But her health continued to deteriorate.

 

She’s gonna die without help.

 

The clock on the night stand read 10:07.

 

Russ looked at the phone with renewed determination and called again, and again, and again. When he drained the battery on Dee’s cell phone, he placed it on the charger, picked up his own cell, and resumed dialing. He grew so frustrated that tears flowed down his cheeks. The room began to spin, and he lost consciousness. He woke to Dee’s pitiful attempts to cry out. Though muffled, her exclamations rattled his brain, and he ran to her side, somehow keeping his body vertical during his flight from the living room to the bedroom.

 

“I’m here, Dee.” Russ’s hand was scorched when he placed it on her forehead. “Sh_t, sh_t, sh_t.” He moved to the bathroom, spun the knob on the cold side of the faucet over the tub, and doused his hand in the running water. “Too cold. Sh_t, sh_t, sh_t.” He spun the hot dial so the water was cool, but not cold. “Better, better, better.” He ran back to the bed, lifted her, carried her to the tub, and plunged her into the rising water. She screamed, thrashed, and dug her fingernails into the side of his face. He allowed the assault as he held her submerged and lifted the delicate material of her bras and panties to allow water to flow over sensitive parts for better cooling. She began to take strong, deep breaths, stopped struggling, and crossed her arms over her breasts.

 

Russ saw crimson drops sprinkle the water but ignored the wound on his face while Dee shivered violently. He placed a hand on her forehead. “You’re cooler than before. That’s good, I hope.”