Plague

Chapter Twenty-Five

"Get outta here!" Elizabeth screamed. Her son's intake of breath caught her attention. Swiveling her head, she glared at him ominously. Then, leaning over the mattress, she grabbed a slipper. Heaving it at him, it crashed against the half-opened door with a thud.

Hank slammed it closed and leaned against it. Breathing heavily, he placed his hand over his heart. It thumped rapidly in his chest. For an instant, he was glad Grant had not followed him upstairs.

Slowly, the child opened the door and poked in his head.

"I...I'm sorry, mom," he whispered, barely audible. "Can I go to the ballfield with Grant?"

"I told you to get outta here, Duff," Liz shrieked, using Hank's real first name. "I do not give a damn where you go. Disappear, got it?"

Scurrying downstairs, Hank raced for the kitchen door. Holding the refrigerator door open, Grant Hardwicke studied the contents. Finally, he selected an apple and took a massive bite out of it.

"Let's get going," Hank exclaimed, slamming the fridge door. Pushing his friend outside, he jogged up the driveway.

"Hey, you forgot your mitt," his best friend hollered, catching up.

"Oh...yeah..."

Hank Talbot's shoulders sank as he slumped toward the opened kitchen door. Slowly, he crept upstairs and hesitated outside the master suite. Casting a surreptitious glance toward it, he slid past. He entered his room, grabbed his mitt, and raced back to the kitchen.

"Okay, c'mon," the child urged his friend. Swiftly, he led Grant away from the Talbot house.

Although he joined his friends' after-school game, Hank's mind strayed. The discovery of Liz and Gayle together in bed unnerved him. He knew about sex. A few months previously, his father had 'the talk' with him. However, 'the talk' only included the relationship between a man and a woman. He learned about homosexuality from his classmates' chatter. Still, he could not believe his mother would indulge in that activity. He discovered her reality the hard way.

The image did not leave his mind. From that point forward, Hank imagined his mother wrapped in Gayle's arms every time he saw her. Then, he imagined Liz departing with her best friend. For some reason, the idea gave him pleasure. If he lived alone with his father, they would find happiness together.

******

Hank perched on the edge of his bed. Downstairs, he could hear Moo-ma busy in the kitchen. The scent of frying hamburgers filled his nostrils. He thought of staying with his grandparents. Loving them, he wanted to remain in the protective environment they created.

In the quiet of his private space, Hank Talbot came to grips with his mother's death. The plague pandemic swiftly took the lives of many loved ones. The nightly news broadcasts were full of the multiple mortalities. Numbers instead of names, Hank thought. Were there actually so many people in the world? And what did all those deaths mean? Thoughtfully, the child wondered.

All around the earth, boys and girls woke up without their mothers and fathers. Parents lost their children to the virus, too. And grandparents died. In his childlike mind, he grappled with the extensive loss of life.

"Moo-ma?" Hank asked, standing between the kitchen and the dining room. "Are you and Poo-pa going to die too?"

Slowly, Beatrice Talbot turned from the stove. Behind her, hamburgers sizzled in the frying pan. A platter of lettuce and tomato slices stood on the counter. Her grandson's abrupt question startled her.

"Everyone has to die sometime, Hank," she truthfully responded. She kept her voice at a soothing level.

"You're not going to die tomorrow or the next day, are you?" the boy whispered, gripping his hands in front of him. Slowly, he rocked on the heels of his track shoes. "The plague...it kills people. Everyone is dying. I don't want you to die, Moo-ma."

"We're not going to die, sweetie."

Bea opened her arms wide, and Hank ran into them. Crying, he pressed his face against Moo-ma's bib apron. Comfortingly, she massaged the boy's shoulders. Then, she held him away from her and stared into his wide eyes.

"We are cautious about following the state-issued mandates, Hank," she tenderly explained. "And we plan to get the vaccines as soon as they are available. Poo-pa and I will remain with you as long as you need us."

"I wish mommy stayed here," the child cried desultorily. "Mommy was never around when I needed her. When dad went away, she disappeared too. Only she never went with daddy. She went with Gayle."

"Yes, I know, sweetheart, but you always had us," Bea consoled. "And your Amberley grandparents too."

"They didn't love me," Hank mourned, wiping away his tears. "Granny Amberley didn't like boys. She wanted her girl grandchildren."

"Never mind all that, now," his grandmother stated, gnawing at her bottom lip. They had not told the child of his other grandparents' deaths. Jeff thought it better to wait a while. Too much bad news would throw Hank over the emotional edge. "Go wash up for dinner. We're eating on the lanai tonight."

Hank turned to enter the powder room, then spun back around.

"Moo-ma?" he tentatively asked. Then, he rushed his words. "Does anyone have to call me Duff anymore? I am not thrilled with the name Duff. I'm Hank."

"No, darling, no one will ever call you Duff again," Bea reassured, smiling to herself. She, too, disliked the name.

"Good," Hank called back, racing into the small bathroom.