This is a fictional story. All names, places, and viruses are used fictitiously. Resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, past or present, are intentional.
If you haven’t read from the beginning, please start at Chapter 1 here.
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Due Date: 99 days away
Isaac walked in on Travis. At his apartment.
Travis had texted me and told me he had a cough and was sneezing and wouldn’t be able to make it in to work. He said he didn’t want to be around a bunch of people at the apartment sneezing and coughing like that.
So I sent Isaac to go pick up the equipment to keep going with the installation. Thankfully, Isaac had been there the whole time. He knew how to continue with the project.
Then Travis texted me with more information. “I’m running a fever now too.”
I texted Isaac immediately to warn him.
I should’ve called.
Isaac texted back. “Too late. I walked right in on him.”
I could sense some frustration in his words.
Now, why he’d went and walked in, I didn’t understand. Even in normal circumstances, before the virus, I thought it was common knowledge not to walk in on someone who’s coughing and sneezing and not coming into work because of it.
Fifteen minutes passed while I let everyone know that Travis had a fever too.
Isaac texted me again. “So, I’m not sure what to do. I don’t know if I should quarantine now. Or what. I’m kind of just standing by for now.”
I called him.
“Are you still there?”
I could hear Travis coughing in the background. I rolled my head back with my eyes closed.
“Isaac, you need to get out of there.”
“I know,” he said. ‘I didn’t know if I was supposed to go back to the apartments. Or if you wanted me to just go home from here. Or what.”
I wanted to escalate it over to Chris. I knew what I wanted Isaac to do, but I really didn’t feel great making that call myself. Not at that point anyway.
“At least get out for now. And go wash you hands, as soon as you can. But get out of his place. Let me call you back here in a bit.”
I looked outside at the bright sunshiny day. It didn’t help that the weather no longer told us how bad things were. Looking outside, it looked like a gentle summer day, like two days after the kids would get out of school. In reality, this people eating virus raged worse than ever, and the kids were all quarantined inside playing video games instead of home schooling. I went to Chris’s office.
He agreed with me. We’d all been within six feet of someone coughing or sneezing by that point. We weren’t going to change procedures unless we had confirmed evidence that we needed to.
I called Isaac back.
“You know, Ben, I didn’t have a problem. Until I walked in.” Isaac’s voice sounded unsure. “It all felt real then.”
“Did you wash your hands?”
“No.” He didn’t offer an explanation with it.
“Man, if I were you, I’d wash my hands.”
“I know. I wanted to get out of there as soon as I could.”
“I mean, stop at a gas station or something. You just want to get your hands washed as soon as possible.”
“What about the apartments? Do I go back there?”
“It’s like Chris said. It’s a personal decision. If you don’t feel comfortable with it, you need to go home. But I talked to Chris. As long as you’re good with it, we’re good.”
I could sense his apprehension. He usually left some pauses in the conversation, the awkward kind. But this was different.
“I wish someone would just tell me to go home,” he said. “These people are trying to isolate themselves. These apartments, that’s where they live. It’s their home. And I’m coming in there…”
He didn’t finish his thought.
“We don’t know for sure that you’re infected.” I back peddled. “We don’t even know if Travis has it. All we know is that Travis has a fever.”
I thought about it myself. Would I want an installer in my apartments with my family, without telling me they’d just walked someone’s home who had a fever?
“There are too many variables,” I said, repeating what Chris had said in his meeting with all of us.
I told Isaac to go to the apartment and keep working. And he did.
I never found out for sure if he washed his hands.
