Infected

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 1

So I sing because I’m happy,

And I sing because I’m free.

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know he watches me.

Kennedy groaned when her phone screeched at her. She knew who was calling, and she knew exactly what he’d have to say.

“Hey, Dad.”

“You’ve been following this thing on Channel 2?” His voice was breathless. Panicked.

Just like she expected.

“Yeah, I’ve been keeping track.” She hadn’t logged onto any news outlets since breakfast that morning. Checking in with reality once a day was enough for her.

“Ok, because this isn’t just something you can ignore, Kensie girl. That’s what you like to do. But this is too serious.”

“I know, Dad.” Did he forget they’d had this exact same conversation twenty-four hours ago?

“So tell me what precautions you’re taking. What will you be doing for spring break?”

She rolled her eyes, certain he could sense the gesture all the way from his printing office overseas. What time was it now in China anyway? Wasn’t it the middle of the night? “I’m staying at the Lindgrens’.” She’d told him her plans at least a dozen times by now. For someone who knew the name and origin of every little virus that reared its head in the developing world, her dad could be ridiculously forgetful.

“So Carl and Sandy are still taking that anniversary trip, are they?”

Kennedy moved the phone slightly away from her face to try to mask her annoyed sigh. “They’re just driving a few hours away. And it’s only for a night.”

“They’ve already gone?”

“No, they’re getting packed right now.”

Even with the guest room door shut, Carl and Sandy’s good-humored bickering hummed in Kennedy’s one ear while her dad’s fretting echoed in her other.

“I really don’t get why they decided to go.”

“Because it’s their anniversary.” At least now that she was a college student and thousands of miles away in Massachusetts, she wouldn’t get grounded for letting so much exasperation lace her voice. “Some folks do that sort of romantic stuff, you know.”

“Not in the middle of an epidemic, they don’t.”

Kennedy glanced at her phone. They’d only been talking two minutes, and she was already sick of this conversation. What did her dad expect? For Carl and Sandy to put their entire life on hold because some people had come down with a bad infection? He might not know it from his little office in Yanji, but life was going on in spite of the fearmongering media. Passengers were still flying on planes. Children attending schools. Adults going to work, shopping for groceries, living their regular day-to-day lives. Maybe things were scarier for her dad way out there in Jilin Province, but here in the Boston area, there really wasn’t anything to worry about. This was just the kind of news story that her dad loved to fixate on. Another way he tried to control her life from the other side of the world.

“Ok, so tell me what kind of safety measures you’re taking. How are you going to make sure you’re not exposing yourself to anyone who’s possibly contaminated?”

Well, I’m not living in Bangladesh or near a herd of pigs, for one thing. Of course, that wasn’t the answer her dad was looking for. He didn’t need a geography lesson about the virus’s origins. He’d tracked the spread of the disease for weeks before the first confirmed cases arrived in the US, before the American public ever heard the words Nipah virus. But he was waiting for her answer, and unless she wanted him to find some germ-proof convent to lock her away in for the rest of her life, she had to appease his paranoia.

“I’m not going to shopping malls, airports, or any other places with crowds. I’m not eating out in any restaurants. I’ve got my Germ-X, and I’m using it regularly.” Even without her dad’s constant reminding, when did Kennedy ever forget her Germ-X? She was the most germophobic premed student at Harvard, an idiosyncrasy that her roommate loved to tease her about.

“So you’ll be staying inside all day then? That’s good. What about Carl and Sandy’s son? Is he old enough to wash his hands on his own yet?”

“Yeah, Dad. He’s in the third grade.”

“Well, you should probably still do it for him. Especially before you eat any meals together. And don’t cuddle much. Best to keep a safe distance.”

“All right.” She was only halfway listening now as she unpacked her clothes into the top drawer in the Lindgrens’ guest room.

“What about social get-togethers? Do you have anyone you’re planning to invite over while you’re babysitting?”

Kennedy suspected her dad was subtly referring to her boyfriend Dominic. The only thing more annoying than listening in while her dad’s crisis training kicked into high gear was talking to him about her love life, with all his awkward half-questions and insinuations. Last January, just two weeks after she’d officially started dating him, her dad actually asked about Dominic’s opinion on birth control.

“How in the world should I know?” Kennedy had shouted.

Apparently, her reaction pleased her father.

It was funny to think of her dad worrying about her and her boyfriend. Dominic had told Kennedy very early on in their relationship that he and his deceased wife hadn’t kissed until their wedding day. And he’d told her time and time again since then that he planned to take the same slow and steady approach in any future relationships he entered.

That was fine with Kennedy, at least mostly. No, it was totally fine. She didn’t have time to be worried about that sort of stuff anyway. She and Dominic spent time together once a week on Sundays. He’d pick her up and take her to his cousin’s home church. They’d go out for lunch after that, walk around Boston Common if the weather was nice, then say good-bye. They talked every couple nights on the phone, sometimes quick check-in calls but sometimes deep conversations where Dominic would allude to the stress he was under at work or Kennedy would ask him some of the Bible questions she’d been storing up.

They didn’t have a lot of time together, but it’s not like she could have offered Dominic a lot more anyway. Kennedy was taking double science courses this year, organic chemistry as well as biology, each with their own lectures and weekly labs. To top it off, she’d enrolled in an MCAT prep course that met two nights a week. Part of her early acceptance into Harvard Med School was contingent on her passing the entrance exam. After all the time and energy she’d put into her first two years of undergrad studies, she wasn’t about to fail.

She shook her head and remembered her dad was waiting for her response. “No, nobody’s coming over. At least nothing’s planned.” Should she mention that there was no way Dominic would come over to the Lindgrens’ house, regardless of the time of day or night, without the assurance of at least two other adults present? Kennedy appreciated his commitment to purity, but sometimes she wondered what he was so afraid of. Did he think she’d turn into some sort of s*x-crazed fiend and molest him the minute she found herself alone in a room with him?

“Ok, that’s good. So basically, you’re staying home all day then? Not going anywhere?”

“Well, I have to take Woong to school tomorrow morning and pick him up again at three. But other than that, there’s nowhere else I have to be.” She was glad Carl and Sandy would only be gone for one night. She still wasn’t sure what she’d do to keep Woong entertained two afternoons by herself, but she’d come up with something. Woong had gotten a Wii for his birthday (a random date Carl and Sandy picked out of a calendar since the South Korean orphanage had no records of his birth), but Sandy was adamant that he couldn’t play more than half an hour on school days, and then only once he’d finished his homework, his quiet reading time, and his afternoon chores.

Kennedy just hoped that when Sandy came home, she wouldn’t be disappointed if she found the house a complete disaster. Kennedy had a hard time keeping her itty-bitty dorm room tidy. She had no idea how she’d keep up an entire house with a boy as rambunctious as Woong.

“So he’s still going to school this week?” her dad asked, and Kennedy couldn’t tell if his incredulous tone meant he wondered why all schools weren’t on the same spring break schedule as Harvard’s or why anyone would keep a Medford, Massachusetts elementary school open when a few unfortunate individuals across the state had found themselves fighting for their lives against some hitherto obscure Nipah virus.

“Yeah, there’s still school.”

Her dad whispered something under his breath. If Kennedy had to guess, it sounded most like unbelievable. She glanced at the time. Carl and Sandy were late.

“And what about groceries?” he asked. “Is there enough there or are you going to have to go shopping at all?”

Kennedy had only arrived at the Lindgrens’ an hour earlier. How did he expect her to have the entire next thirty-six hours planned out?

“Sandy cooked a whole bunch of casseroles and stuff for us to heat up. There’s enough food here to last a month,” she told her dad.

He let out his breath. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.”