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THE MORNING AFTER THE quarantine was announced, Alice took the wagon into town for supplies. Stopping in front of Erikson’s, she pulled a face mask from her skirt pocket and tied it in place. The night before, she helped her mother fashion one for each of them from flour sack cloth. The door was locked. Certainly, the mayor hadn’t meant for them to close the store. People still had to eat. The only person visible inside was Johnnie Erikson, the owner’s son. He looked up from his sweeping when she knocked.
He pointed to the sign. “We’re closed.”
Alice pulled her face mask down so she could be heard. “Please? I only need a couple of things.”
Johnnie hesitated. He tied on his mask and checked to be sure no one was watching before unlocking the door and hurrying her inside. “What can I do for you today?”
“Salt, oatmeal, coffee.”
Johnnie gathered up her order, accepted her money, and carried the crate out to her wagon. He stopped at the door and turned back.
“Stay safe, Alice.”
“You, too, Johnnie.” The lock clicked into place. He waved and lowered the window shade.
There was one more order from the mayor she couldn’t obey. She had to stop and check on her friends. Was anyone watching who might report on her? The street was empty, but there was no telling who could be peeking from behind their curtains. She turned down the alley behind Betty’s and Lizzie’s houses.
She knocked on Lizzie’s back door first. No one answered. She knocked again. Lizzie’s mother peeked out from behind the window curtains.
“Go home, Alice. You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I wanted to check on Lizzie. See if she’s heard anything about Fin and Harry.”
Mrs. Hudson shook her head. “We’ve heard nothing.”
Alice’s heart sank. She hoped they’d have heard something by now. “How’s Lizzie doing? She was so upset yesterday.”
“Lizzie’s fine. I’ll tell her you asked. Now go home, and may God keep you.” The curtains closed and she was gone. There was a tapping sound from above. She stepped back and shaded her eyes against the sun. Lizzie waved from her bedroom, but before she could open the window, her mother pulled her away. Go home, she mouthed and closed those curtains, too.
“Alice.” Betty motioned from her back door. She hurried over and Betty closed the door behind her. “Mother’s at the hotel. She’s closing it down, sending all the guests away, but she’ll be home any time now, so I only have a minute. Have you heard anything new? Why do we have to do this? No one’s even sick.”
“I saw Reverend Lamb yesterday. Addie Webster’s sister, Doris, died, so there’s bound to be others, sick or dead, we don’t know about yet.”
“But maybe there aren’t. I can’t bear being cooped up in this house with only Mother to talk to.”
“You can ring me whenever you want. And maybe it will all be over soon.” Alice didn’t believe it herself. Not for one minute.
“Mary Pickford’s latest picture was scheduled to open at the Orpheum this weekend.” Betty stomped her foot. “You know how I love Mary Pickford.”
“Betty?” Mrs. Young’s footsteps approached through the parlor, headed for the kitchen and back porch.
“You have to go. Mother will skin me alive if she finds out I let anyone in.” Betty gave her a quick hug.
“Ring me anytime.”
“Coming, Mother.” Betty waved and closed the door with a quiet click. I will, she mouthed through the window before disappearing inside.
Mrs. Hudson watched them from her kitchen window and shook a finger at Alice.
“I’m going home now, Mrs. Hudson.” Alice dearly loved her friend’s mother, but she really was the biggest gossip in town for a reason. This was one secret Alice hoped she’d keep to herself.
* * *
ONCE HOME, ALICE UNHITCHED the team from the wagon and removed their harnesses. She would give them a good rub down later, but for now she turned them loose in the corral where they could drink cool water from the shaded trough and eat to their heart’s content. Molasses shook out her mane and whinnied to Sugar, who was enjoying an unfettered trot around the fenced border.
Sugar pushed her nose through the fence slats, sniffing at Alice’s skirts in search of any treats she might have hidden in her pockets.
“Sorry, not today.” She stroked the horse’s head. “I’ll bring you each an apple after dinner.” She took her crate of supplies into the house to help her mother with the baking. Her parents were sitting at the table enjoying one last cup of coffee.
“Let me have that.” Her father took the heavy crate from her hands. “You should have left it for me to bring in.”
“We have to make it last.” She pointed at the supplies. “The store’s closed during the quarantine.”
“What was it like in town?” Her mother rinsed their empty cups and dried her hands on the dish towel before hanging it over her chair to dry. “Did you see anyone?”
“Only Johnnie. He was nice enough to let me in this one time.”
“That was kind of him.” Her mother unpacked the crate and put things away.
“The town’s quiet, like no one lives there anymore.” Alice decided not to tell them about her stop at Lizzie’s and Betty’s. She didn’t want to worry them.
Her mother closed the cabinet door. “So, no news about Harry and Fin?”
“No.” Alice ran a glass of water and helped herself to an oatmeal cookie from the jar on the counter. “I guess we’ll know when we see them.” Alice’s voice cracked and she began to cry.
Her mother pulled her close. “One day soon you’ll look up and Harry will be standing right in our door, hat in hand, a big smile on his face.”
“I’m frightened, Mom. It’s like the entire world is falling apart around us.”
Her father grabbed his hat. “You need to keep busy. Come and help us pick apples.”
“We’ll make apple butter tomorrow.” Her mother gave her one last hug. “And an extra-deep deep-dish pie as a treat for dinner tonight. Busy hands will quiet your anxious mind.”
Alice smiled. How many times had she heard her mother say that over the years? Too many to count.
That night, as she tossed and turned in bed, her thoughts turned to Harry. Where was he? Was he safe? Would he come home to her soon, as her mother promised? Yes, she had to believe.
* * *
ALICE WOKE WITH A HEADACHE. The pressure behind her eyes made the sunlight pierce like a hot knife. Her room was stifling in the September heat. She pulled her sweat-soaked nightgown away from her skin, tumbled from her bed, and cracked open her window, praying for a cooling breeze.
Someone walked around the corner of the barn. Alice squinted, trying to make out who it was.
“Good morning, Alice.” The man waved.
Jack.
She tried to return the greeting, but her voice was trapped behind the burning in her throat. She struggled to swallow.
Water. She needed cold water to ease her throat. She turned and dropped to her knees. The room swam in and out of focus. Her thoughts were murky, foggy, and her ears buzzed like a swarm of mosquitoes. She crawled to her bedside and tried to pull herself up. The light dimmed. She was free falling into darkness. Silence.
* * *
“ALICE.”
A voice floated up at her as if from the bottom of a deep well.
“Alice.”
She opened her eyes and closed them again. The light sliced through her head.
“Jack?” Her voice came out a croaking whisper, her throat like sandpaper.
“You’re burning up.”
Alice welcomed the cool hand pushing her hair from her eyes. She turned her head away from the window. “The light hurts.”
“I’ll close the curtains. Then we need to get you back in bed.”
Alice rolled onto her knees, grasped the bedpost, and tried to pull herself to her feet. Jack caught her as she fell again.
“I’ve got you.” He held her up while she felt her way along the edge of the bed. He helped ease her down and covered her.
Alice pushed back the covers and tried unsuccessfully to sit. What was Jack doing in her bedroom?
“Mom? Dad?”
“They’re sick, too. I found your mother in the kitchen. She was trying to make tea for your father. I helped her to bed then called Iris to send Doc Peterson.”
Iris.
Alice struggled to remember how she knew that name. Oh, yes, Iris was the new telephone operator. They had a telephone now.
She grabbed for him. “Influenza?”
“Looks like it.” He squeezed her hand. “Rest. I’ll finish making the tea.”
“But how?” She didn’t understand. Everything was so confusing. Was it her fever? “No one . . .”
“Iris said Doc’s out at the Schmidt farm. The oldest boy has it, and your father was there yesterday helping to mend their fence. She said she’d get the message to Doc as soon as he returned. Now rest. I’ll be back with your tea.”
* * *
A COUGHING SPELL NEARLY broke her ribs. Alice curled in a ball and gasped for air. When the pain let up, she opened her eyes. The room was dark. What time was it? The curtains were closed. Hot. She was so hot. She threw back the blankets. Someone pulled them up again.
“Doc says you have to keep covered so you don’t catch a chill.”
“Jack?” Coughing. More coughing. “Doc Peterson was here?” How long had she slept?
“A little while ago, but he’s gone now. Said he’ll return in the morning to check on everyone.”
“So hot—” Alice moaned.
“I know. I could fry up a batch of griddle cakes on your forehead.”
Alice tried to laugh, but it only brought on another coughing fit.
“I’ll get you a cup of tea. I brought some earlier, but you were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.”
When Jack returned, he held the cup to her lips. She took a little sip. The heat, the sweetness, helped her throat, but it only made the rest of her feel hotter.
“A little more. Doc said it’s important.”
Alice drank, but only because it was Jack. “How are Mom and Dad?”
“Resting.”
She studied his face to see if he was being truthful. Jack was never any good at keeping secrets. Normally she could read him with barely a glance, but not now. Everything was wrong. Up was down and right was left. For all she knew, if she looked outside, she’d see the sky was green and the grass blue.
“One more sip. Then I’ll let you rest. But I’ll be right outside your door if you need me. I moved some of my things into the parlor until everyone’s back on their feet.
“Thank you.” Alice slipped into a troubled sleep.