“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.”