Brushfire Plague Read online

“Where’s Julianne?”

  “Dunno. She put me down here, said she had to check on something, and then I heard her leave the house.” The relief in his voice was unmistakable.

  Cooper’s fist thundered against the thin wood on the door, “She rabbited, eh?”

  “She what?” Jake asked, confused.

  Cooper patted his head, “Sorry, it means she panicked and ran off. I don’t think she liked the questions I was asking her.” Now I know she had something to hide.

  Jake shrugged his shoulders, nonplussed. He’s happy she is gone. “What happened up the street? I heard a lot of shooting.”

  Cooper led him to the kitchen and poured them both a glass of water. As he drank his down in one long pull, it felt like cold nirvana to his parched, dry throat. A fight always does that to me. Instant dehydration.

  He poured himself another full glass and then sat down with Jake at the kitchen table. “Well, the good news is that we got rid of some bad guys trying to come here and do us all harm.”

  “What’s the bad news?” Jake’s wide eyes revealed deep concern.

  “Antonio Aguilar and Leroy Johnson were both killed, son.”

  Jake’s eyes glazed over in deep consideration, and soon glistened. He didn’t know Leroy very well, but he had shot hoops and played touch football a few times with Antonio. He’s having to learn about death way too fast and much too often. Cooper could see it.

  Cooper put his hand firmly on his son’s shoulder. “You alright?”

  “Yeah. It just sucks, dad. Leroy seemed like a good guy and Antonio was a friend of mine. Why do these guys have to add to the death already happening all around us? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “You’re right son, it doesn’t make sense. Some people and some things just don’t make sense. This was one of those things.” Cooper knew his words were inadequate, but it was the best that could be said.

  “Look, I’m bushed. You wanna lie down with me to take a nap?”

  “Sure.”

  He took his son’s hand as they made their way upstairs. Almost the picture of Norman Rockwell, except for the hardware I’m carrying. Less than five minutes later, he was in deep slumber. Jake lay awake watching his father’s chest rise and fall. After a while, he laid his head on it, savoring the reassurance of its steady breath. He was thinking about the last time he and Antonio had shot baskets. He fell asleep remembering how Antonio had shown him, many times over, how to properly hold the ball while shooting. His eyes were wet when he fell asleep.

  ******

  Cooper awoke a few hours later. He left Jake sleeping and quietly crept from the room. He cleaned the rifle and when Jake woke up, made them both a hearty lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches, fruit, and tall glasses of cold milk. He clenched his jaw tight while frying the sandwiches. The smell of the melted butter and cheese was overpowering. Grilled cheese had been something Elena always made their son to comfort him after a bad day at school or sometimes simply on one of the sad, cold, gray rainy days in mid-winter that were so common in the Northwest. His mind drifted to a memory from several years ago.

  ******

  When Cooper came home, Elena was standing in the kitchen, in front of the stove. Jake sat at the kitchen counter, chin in both hands and sad, droopy eyes. Cooper immediately smelled the reassuring aroma of butter and cheese frying amid toasted bread.

  “Uh-oh, what’s going on buddy?” he asked his son as he patted his head.

  His son grunted in return. His wife turned to him, corners turned down at the mouth, “C’mon darling, tell your daddy why you’re sad.”

  Jake shifted in his seat uncomfortably but remained mute and new tears welled up. Cooper put his arm around his son and gave Elena a beckoning look.

  She shrugged her shoulders, “George scraped his knee today and now won’t play with Jake,” she said with mustered seriousness.

  Cooper fell out laughing uncontrollably. Elena looked at him aghast and Jake turned and gave him a glare full of hurt and anger. Cooper pleaded, desperately trying to stop, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just…” he collapsed again into a fresh round of loud chortling. Elena harrumphed her shoulders and returned to frying the grilled cheese sandwich and Cooper had to leave the room to regain his composure. Jake’s sharp eyes and snarled lips escorted him out.

  An hour later, Cooper, forgiven for his impoliteness was back with the family playing UNO. Later that night, in her arms, Elena poked him in the ribs and chastised him for not taking George, Jake’s imaginary friend, more seriously.

  ******

  Cooper returned from reminiscing. His smile was bittersweet. Damn, I miss her.

  He spent the afternoon reading to Jake, sitting together on the couch. Cooper was thankful there were no interruptions. The past several days had been a blur of adrenaline, chaos, and fear. These few hours of near normalcy felt like an oasis. Cooper noticed Jake pulling closer and closer to him as he read the last chapters from Rick Riordan’s latest tale of childhood adventure.

  As he read, contentment grew inside Cooper. He realized he had become completely lost in the sheer joy of connection with his son. His heart was full and his breath deep. His mind drifted and he thought about how he had done this hundreds of times with his son before the plague and only rarely had appreciated it as much. I took it all for granted. Time with my boy, the touch of my wife, the simple peace. We had so much joy at our fingertips and didn’t realize it. He fought the emotion that threatened to bellow up from deep within. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. He tightened his throat and kept reading. Slowly, he returned to the rhythm of the written word, felt his son’s chest moving in tandem with his, and bathed in the look of love he saw in Jake’s eyes.

  Seeing the time on his watch jarred him back to reality. At four thirty, with heavyset shoulders, he gathered their things and left for the meeting. Forlornly, Jake picked up the Ruger rifle to take with him. Cooper looked on in surrender to the necessity of it.

  “Go grab an extra magazine or two. If you’re going to take it, bring adequate ammunition.”

  Jake’s steps were heavy as he left the room and went into the basement. Cooper waited for him to return and then they left together, heading north to the barricade.

  Chapter 18

  When Cooper arrived, Dranko and a few others were already there. The bodies had been moved, and an attempt had been made to wash away the blood from where Antonio and Leroy had fallen. However, faint outlines of blood and water were still visible on the pavement. The coppery smell of blood and the pungent odor of raw meat that remained reminded Cooper of the time he’d visited a meat packing house. Cooper wrinkled his nose. Next to him, Jake grimaced and put his free hand to cover his nose and mouth. Cooper tried his best to shield his eyes from the bodies, which had been tossed together, across the street from the car barricade. Cooper’s nose told him they were downwind.

  Dranko sidled up next to him, handed him a list, and whispered, “I have a can of gasoline and matches, as well.”

  Cooper looked at the list and realized it had the names of those who had died recently, those recently fallen ill, and those remaining to be buried. Thankfully, the last column was short. The other two were not.

  “We did another canvass of the neighborhood today. It was Calvin’s idea, and I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

  “No, this is great. We should do this every two days. We need to track what’s happening with this thing,” Cooper responded, still digesting the names on the list.

  Calvin was within earshot, so Cooper called him over, “Calvin, this was a great idea. What do you think about doing this every two days?”

  He fondled his chin between his thumb and his index finger for a moment, “I like it. We can recruit a team for this. It would make good work for those who don’t want to be on the defense teams.”

  Cooper nodded, “Right. Why don’t you make that happen at this meeting? I have something I need to tackle.”

  Cooper proceeded to explain his plan
, answer Calvin’s questions, and secured his agreement.

  At five o’clock, approximately seventy people had gathered around. Nothing like imminent danger of attack to draw the crowds, eh?

  Cooper and Calvin climbed onto the hood of the Buick so that everyone could see them. Calvin started the meeting by thanking the bravery of those involved in the gun battle earlier in the day. When Cooper’s name was called out, Cooper felt uncomfortable amidst the near-worshipful gazes that came his way. With those unaccustomed to violence, those who can handle it are held in exaggerated esteem, he thought to himself.

  Calvin outlined his idea to do the neighborhood canvasses every other day and easily found a half-dozen volunteers to do the work. When he’d finished, he turned the meeting over to Cooper.

  Cooper cleared his throat, “I too want to start by acknowledging the sacrifices made by our neighbors today. Mr. Leroy Johnson and the entire Aguilar family. But for them, some of us would not be standing here right now. We owe them a lot.” He let several seconds pass as muted applause rippled through the gathering.

  “We now have a serious subject to discuss and I’d like to ask a few volunteers to take the children further down the street, out of earshot.”

  A murmur of curiosity ran through those assembled, but his instructions were carried out. Jake stood his ground, until Cooper looked at him and waved him off to join the others walking away. Jake stared back at him, harrumphed his shoulders, and stomped off.

  “I have a proposal that is going to be shocking to some. All I ask is that you hear me out because my idea is aimed at preventing other attacks like today. Can everyone agree to that?” A chorus of nodding heads and calls of “yes” and “sure” resounded.

  “Good. The best way to dissuade others from taking on our neighborhood is to show that we’re organized, ready, and not defenseless. We’ve done that with our barricades. However, we can move that to another level by showing everyone that we’re neither afraid nor incapable of using our weapons.” He paused for a moment until he saw a lot of nodding heads in the audience.

  “We can show this by incinerating the bodies of those who…”

  “Wait! You want to burn them?!” Michelle called, incredulous.

  Cooper planted his feet firmly on the metal hood, “Let me clear, I don’t want to do anything except sit at home and read to my boy. But, I think we should burn the bodies of those who killed our neighbors and display the remains in front of our barricades. It will make anyone think twice before attacking us again.”

  “That’s barbaric,” Michelle shouted with shock.

  “Tell me one thing, Michelle: if I had told you two weeks ago that a gang of armed men would drive into our neighborhood and kill Antonio Aguilar and Leroy Johnson, wouldn’t you have said that was barbaric?” He paused and silence hung in the air. “The fact is, we live in a new world. The same rules, the same conventions, from before don’t always apply anymore.”

  Unconvinced, Michelle crossed her arms, took a step back, and remained wordless. He could hear others murmuring around her.

  “Won’t this just attract the police’s attention?” asked Gus.

  Cooper wanted to laugh, but Calvin answered for him, “I don’t know. But, I haven’t seen a police car in days and the 911 lines just say they are busy all the time. I think we’re on our own for the time being and we need to focus on what’s the best for us to do, right now.”

  “What will everyone else think of us? When this is all over, I don’t want to be known as the neighborhood that put dead bodies on display,” asked a woman from the group whom Cooper didn’t recognize.

  Cooper’s patience was wearing thin. He readied himself to answer. Before he could, Lily Stott rapped her cane on the hood of the Buick. Clanging metal brought rippled silence to the group.

  She spoke softly. The crowd grew even quieter and he saw heads lean in, straining to hear her. Quieter than normal, the sly woman! “You all know, I’m a Southern lady and it is in my blood to be polite and respect traditions and the law,” her voice gathered strength. “But, let’s stop all this fussin’. We’re livin’ in dangerous times. We have to do whatever we need to do to survive. I don’t care how unsightly it might be,” she turned to the person who had asked the last question, her voice rising to crescendo, “I tell you what I will tell any simpering neighbor who comes to ask. I will tell them I did what I thought best to protect my family and neighbors and then ask them if they did the same.”

  Someone started clapping and soon the whole group was, including Michelle and Gus. Hoots of “You tell ‘em!” and “Right on!” filled the night’s gathering air.

  Mark stepped in, “All in favor of Cooper’s plan, say ‘Hell yeah!’!” The sound was deafening.

  “Any opposed, say ‘Nay’.”

  A lone voice declared an emphatic, “Nay!” In disbelief, Cooper looked down and saw that it was Lily Stott. She realized all eyes were on her.

  She gave a dismissive wave to the crowd, “Don’t get me wrong, I support this. But, I cast my vote ‘Nay’ so that none of us forget that we should do this with reluctance and regret of its necessity. We hold onto our morality that way.” She gripped her cane fiercely as she finished and jabbed it onto the black asphalt. Without awaiting a response, she began ambling back towards her home.

  Cooper, and most of the crowd, shook their heads and grinned at old Lily Stott as she walked home.

  Cooper knew he had to personally carry out what they had just decided to do since it was his idea. He and Dranko piled the bodies together. The dead men looked ridiculous. Colored hair, body piercings, and leathers might look tough while you were alive, but they became comical in death.

  Cooper grabbed the gas can that Dranko had brought and began dousing the bodies liberally with the acrid smelling liquid. He took a final look down the street to ensure the children had all been moved much further away. About a dozen people remained behind to witness the gruesome act. Their eyes looked at him pensively, unsure how to act. We’re crossing the Rubicon now, a giant step away from how we’ve all been raised.

  He struck the match and tossed it onto the middle of the pile. The gasoline lit up immediately, the flames licking among and between the bodies. Cooper refused to watch the sizzling flesh; he knew the smell and sound would be enough to haunt him.

  Within seconds, the strong sweet-sick smell of burning flesh, and the stink of petroleum as polyester and faux leather went up in flames, assaulted his nose. His hand sprung to cover his mouth and nose, but it offered scant defense. His mouth wrinkled in disgust. I hope this is worth it and wards off anyone else from trying to mess with us.

  He heard the clatter of wood banging against wood and turned to see Dranko tossing scrap pieces of lumber onto the burning bodies. He kept his arm sleeve over his mouth and nose but shouted over the din of the flames, “What’re you doing?”

  Dranko had a wet handkerchief plastered over his mouth, “Making the fire burn hotter. It’ll be better to have them burnt down to the bone. You don’t want to try hauling around bodies only partly burned.” Cooper could only imagine the matter-of-fact expression underneath the mask as he detailed such a macabre fact.

  Cooper found himself shaking his head in wonder as he moved around the bodies to begin helping Dranko, “You think of everything, you son of a bitch!”

  “Someone’s got to around here; otherwise your arse wouldn’t get wiped!”

  Cooper playfully hit him in the back with a length of 2x4 he had just picked up, “I’ll grant you’re the expert on burning bodies!” He tossed the wood onto the pile of bodies, his lips turning downward as he did so.

  By the time they’d finished, they were both covered in sweat from the heat and the exertion. They had built a large bonfire over the bodies with flames leaping eight feet into the air.

  Dranko broke the silence first, “You go on home and be with Jake. I’ll take care of the rest. I’ll keep this fire going long enough.”

  “Thanks. We can
move the bodies into position at first light, after they’ve cooled.”

  Dranko nodded. Cooper turned to leave and realized the group that had stayed behind were all still standing there, transfixed, gazing at the gruesome scene of bodies burning in the street near their homes.

  “You all go home now. We’ve had enough unpleasantness today. There’s no reason to watch more of it.”

  His words sparked them into action and they slowly ambled off in different directions.

  *****

  He made his way to where Jake was playing a game of tag with three other children in the street. They were out of view of the fire and, thankfully, upwind as well.

  The quartet of children raced to and fro, lost in the sheer joy of child’s play.

  Cooper hung back, not wishing to disturb them by his presence. He leaned back against an early budding cherry tree and lowered himself into a squatting position.

  The contrast of the scene before him with the grisly work he had just performed shook him to his core. The innocence of watching his son play some invented game that looked like a cross between tag and dodge ball was a joy for Cooper. He hadn’t seen Jake smile like this in days. He drank it in like a welcome tonic. It washed away the stench and grisliness of what he’d just done.

  The children played on for several more minutes before a parent’s call broke the spell. The other three children ran off towards home. Cooper stood up, unfolding his stiffening muscles with a grimace.

  His movement caught Jake’s eye. The two gazed at each other for a long moment. Jake’s face changed right before Cooper’s eyes, the innocence fading away. His eyes lost the wrinkles of joy. They became encircled by tight lines of worry. His smile shrank from a wide, unencumbered grin, to a tight-lipped visage. His face fell unto itself. His ears dropped lower. Cooper knew that this grim look of determination didn’t belong on an eleven year-old. In submission, he turned to fetch his rifle that he had left leaned up against a car. When he turned back towards Cooper, the transformation was complete. A child-soldier had replaced his young son. Impotent to stop it, Cooper wanted to rage at the sky. Instead, like sour milk after cake, sorrow’s foul taste lingered.