The Quarantine Chronicles: Day 3

The tension in the house was suffocating. My brother, Ralph, had teetered between tears and anger every hour on the hour since last night; a metronome of emotion. I’d known he and his wife were having problems, but this? Her disappearing into the night and taking his son- that was a line not meant to be crossed, under any circumstances. It seemed that lines were ever shifting in this atmosphere. She’d somehow gotten a hold of a diplomatic ticket. We didn’t know how. Only high ranking officials and their staff could get one. Either that or the CDC or W.H.O. It would take knowing someone and even then. . . There were rumors about people buying their way onto those flights. But the amount of money required, Debby didn’t have. I had an idea, but it wasn’t the right time for me to share my opinion as to how she got on that flight. I came down the stairs early in the morning and saw him sitting on the couch, head in his hands rocking slightly. Almost in the same position I left him in; I didn’t think he had slept. The TV was droning on in a foreign language. It suddenly hit home. I thought of my own child, how would I take it? How would I survive if Brittany pulled a ridiculous stunt like this? I don’t think that I could. The thought of it all made me give pause to going anywhere today. After seeing my brother’s pain, I simply wanted to crawl into bed and hold my daughter. I had to admit to myself that even though I took precautions, I was putting her in danger of being exposed everyday by going to work, coming home, and hugging her. From some guy who was coughing outside the door five minutes before I got there. Some guy making me coffee. While I believed that she’d survive, the chance that I’d be sitting there on that couch, hand on my head like Ralph, was too much to bear. I decided not to go in. It wasn’t worth it. Somehow, I’d survive. I’d find another way. I needed to comfort my brother, come up with some sort of plan to help me and be near my daughter. My brother was physically imposing but the strength the of family had always been me. I went to make some coffee for us. There was a knock on the door, I started back and Ralph called that he would get it in his fragile voice. I returned to the kitchen. In the kitchen I immediately thought about Sara, the second most important female in my life. Would she wait? Would she think that I’d decided to get back with Brittany? My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of my brother yelling. Who the hell was at the door? I entered the living room and saw my brother with his back up. I knew this posture well, whoever was at the door was not agreeable to Ralph. “What’s going on?” I interjected, trying to defuse whatever was happening, “Ralph?” I pulled him away from the door and stepped up to the threshold. The guy there seemed vaguely familiar. I couldn’t quite place why. I think it was the dreadlocks that ventured halfway down his back that made me instantly recognize something, but I know I knew him. The tiny face tattoo of the cross on his jaw joint below his left ear convinced me. “As I was explaining to him,” Dreadlocks started pointed behind me to Ralph, “we are on your side. Now you want this neighborhood to be protected, don’t you? Don’t want anything happening to your family at night, right?” His tone and innuendo were off putting. I understood why Ralph wanted to punch him in the face. “Well that’s what we are here for. Make sure you stay safe and sou-“ “Chris!” I yelled. It finally hit me, “Chris, that’s your name, right?” Chris seemed shocked. “You used to work for Joey at Margaritaville out in Brooklyn, right? You were there the night Joey and I had it out with the Albanians.” “Oh yea!” The light had come on. “You’re London, huh?” “Right.” Normally we’d shake hands but times had changed so we just nodded to each other. “What is this?” I asked. His tone and demeanor changed in an instant. “We are all out-of-work security guards and cops. We’re going to protect this block. You’re part of the BX22 now.” I stepped outside and looked at the scene playing out on the street. I saw men at every door. It was strange to see more than five people on the street at the same time. “You know I can talk to the boss if you want in.” Chris said quietly. I continued to watch as my neighbors yelled and screamed at the unwanted visitors. A natural reaction to an invasion of your private residence but not thoroughly thought out. The protesting was greeted with force. Some of the others, picking up on the situation quicker than I was, were already handing them money. I heard a shot and jumped. Looking down the block, I was thankful that it just appeared to be a warning shot fired in the air. A man rushed outside to cover his wife, who had answered the door and had apparently been giving the guy a hard time. I could see his hands up pleading with the so-called “BX22” member. I saw the base instinct to protect what was his. In the center of the street there was a line of running cars. Sitting on the hood of the first one was a large man in a wool coat who seemed completely uninterested in what was unfolding in front of him. “You guys are extorting protection money from people that have been laid off?” I asked rhetorically. Chris didn’t meet my gaze. It was smart in an amoral manner of speaking. There wasn’t enough military to cover the outer boroughs; patrols came around here roughly every six hours or so and they rarely stopped. They were more or less just making their presence known. Most of the cops had been laid off and the remaining few had different directives than neighborhood watch, I was sure. There was nothing to stop this group. Especially if this group had cops in it; the handiwork of our beloved Mayor. The only thing that didn’t quite fit was Chris. “That’s the boss there?” I asked Chris, nodding towards the man on the car. “A cop, right?” “Yea, that’s Maciej. Ex-Cop now…. Um check it, …I can go back and uh work out a deal for y-“ “Listen Chris.” I said cutting him off, “I’m guessing that you are trying to ingratiate yourself with this… this gang you got here… and I’m assuming deep down even though some cops moonlight as security they look down on you, right?” “What’s your point?” Chris said, obviously confused and annoyed by that fact. “My point is Chris,” I said stepping outside so that I could be closer, “That if I beat you half to death on these steps the chances are that when you regain consciousness you won’t be in the gang anymore.” Chris locked eyes with me. He tried to be tough about it. In fairness he looked the part, but I knew he was by no means a ‘tough guy.’ I’d stared into enough eyes of real tough guys to know that Chris wasn’t one of them, far from it. There was a piece of me that wanted to tell him that he wasn’t suited to be running with these guys. Another piece of me wanted to tell him where this was going to lead him, but in the end, it wasn’t my business. I walked in the house and closed the door. I was sure Chris that would figure out some story, just as I was sure they’d be back. I waved off my brother who was laying in wait behind me. “It’s not a problem. Don’t worry about it.” “Hey London, not to pile on here but I’m going to have to find some income. Something else to do under the table. The grocery jar is empty, I have to get to my son-” “Hold on, what do you mean the jar is empty?” Ralph scoffed. “You haven’t been watching the news much lately. The supermarket prices have skyrocketed. I bought a pack of chicken for forty dollars yesterday that was gone before you even got home.” “What?” “They know we have no choice. What are we going to do? Go to another store; one outside of our zone?” I didn’t know. It all started out so sweet. People singing to each other from their balconies in Italy. Millions of people clapping at seven pm to show appreciation for the medical workers. There were homemade signs on closed store doors saying, ‘take care of each other.’ We were quite proud of ourselves; we were a civilized people. However, I always knew what was coming. By the time the deaths hit half a million, the cracks in the masks we wore began to show. Deep down, despite what we all wanted, what we all aspired to, we were just human. When the desperation hit, we ultimately did what humans do; what mother nature programmed us to do. “Hey, those guys are coming back and you will eventually have to pay them,” Ralph continued “Plus I’ll need money to try to buy my way onto a Diplo flight out to get my kid back.” A thousand things raced through my mind. A thousand variations of a thousand outcomes. A thousand problems all with the same answer. “Ralph, the only reason I can go to work and be comfortable is because I know you’re here with them. You may think you’re not doing much but you have the most important job. Don’t worry. I will get the money for all of us; I will take care of it.” Ralph looked me in the eyes. He knew me as well as anyone could. He knew when I was determined, and he knew what I could do when I got there. Just like that, my fleeting notion of playing it safe and staying in evaporated. I dressed and headed to work. Life didn’t stop just because the world seemed to.

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After work, I found myself at a Hotel that I had built and turned over to ownership several years prior in Tribeca. Most hotels had closed down but this one I knew wouldn’t. This one was in deep to the Saudi Investors and, as per the terms of the loan, if the Operation’s team posted consecutive losses it would be grounds to take over the asset. I’d kept in touch with a few of them. Earlier I gave Frank, the General Manager, a call and told him what I wanted. Frank, usually as strait-laced as a boy scout with OCD, was surprisingly amenable to it. I got to the hotel as the sun was setting. Frank met me at the side door. “Here’s the keys.” Frank handed me a packet with twenty keys. The amount of rooms I needed to rent out an entire floor. “And no one is checked-in on the floor immediately above and below, right?” Frank looked at me with a blank face. “We spoke about this,” I said. “I thought it was a Joke. We have two rooms occupied in the entire building.” “Jesus, Frank.” “I’ve laid off the entire staff except me and Allison.” “Who’s making the beds? Cleaning? Engineering?” Frank just stared at me. The answer was obvious; he was. “How many people do the Saudis think you have staying here?” “65.” Frank said flatly. A hint of tenseness creeping into his tone. “At an ARR of $250” It was my turn to stare blankly. Choir boy Frank was cooking the books. I guess everyone had to adapt. We heard the whoop of a siren behind us and quickly stepped inside off the street. The police car passed and saw the two hazardous gas masks sitting in the front. The vest worn on the outside like commandos. Reinforced gloves visible on the steering wheel. I used to think all cops were the same. I was finally proven right. They looked like storm troopers, identical except for the name tag that you would never get close enough to see. I turned from the street and went about my task. An hour later, I was ready to go. With the entire floor to myself I posted a bouncer at each of the two fire staircases and a third with a hostess in front of the elevator. You needed a room key to get the elevator to stop on this floor anyway and I had all but two room keys in the entire hotel. The bar was room 811, the ADA room. It had the most space and was centrally located on the floor. Wireless speakers were spread out through the corridor and in every third room. There was dancing at the East end of the hallway in rooms 19 through 14. Primarily socializing in the middle rooms, most made up of people who hadn’t seen another person outside of their laptop screens in at least a two months. Then, where my concentration was firmly focused, the Western third of the floor Rooms 1 through 5; where the gambling was taking place. The whole thing had a very prohibition feel to it. It wasn’t something I set out to mimic but it couldn’t be helped; it was prohibition. In this case instead of alcohol, it was people that were banned. Saying hello to your neighbor that had become a crime. Just being here was a felony, it made people more comfortable being risky. I had blackjack, poker, even a mini roulette table. I was a couple of hours in and doing well. Then, I saw her. At the blackjack table looking directly at me. She cocked her head to the side and her blonde locks dropped to her shoulder, framing her picture-perfect face fit for the screen. She didn’t look curious or even shocked to see me. She looked at me as you would look at the menu at your local restaurant. You already knew what was on it, you weren’t looking as much as you were regarding it as routine. I quietly cursed Frank out as I walked over. “So he lives.” She said looking down at the new hand from the dealer. “Been a long time, Lyn.” She looked up at me, sans a response. Her eyes briefly looking me up and down before she turned her attention back to the game, taking another card from the dealer. She hit twenty-one. She smiled at the dealer and stood up. “Lyn-“ “Where’s the bar in this Chaos you’ve thrown together here?” “Eleven,” I responded. She walked away before I could say anything else. I followed. Her perfect body matching her perfect facial features. I sensed that she put an extra punch in her step knowing I was following behind. Her dress gripped her tightly. She had expensive taste and had stored up enough money over the years; she would be more than fine in this crisis. She probably didn’t need to work for a couple of years. I would have been fine too, had I stayed with her. I could have gotten on the next diplomatic flight with my brother tomorrow had I still been in her favor. I’m sure she knew that as well. The mere fact that I was throwing this event was evidence enough. She got to the bar and downed a shot of Vodka before the server poured her a glass of Chardonnay. She held up the glass and examined it. “God, where’d you get these glasses? Pottery Barn?” She looked disappointedly at me. Lyn came from money. A lot of it. Not that she would ever take a penny from them. She made more than enough on her own. “It was last minute.” I answered. “Very, I see.” She put the glass down on the window sill and looked out. “So, tell me the story.” I knew what she meant. If I’m honest I never really planned to see her again, especially not today. Never rehearsed a story to tell her as to why I left. “The price for us to be together was too high. I think you knew that.” I knew she did and knew that she understood what I meant. “So, you disappear? Without a word?” “Was there anything that I could have said that you would have wanted to hear?” “Probably not.” She said casually, “But we could have made arrangements. For the sake of the sex at least.” She added nonchalantly with a look. “It was spectacular, as I remember it.” I agreed looking out of the window as well. She took a step closer. “You know you could uh,… try to … convince me again.” I looked at her, as a whole. She was the better half of a power couple you’d see on the cover of Forbes. She once quipped that she could make me a Senator. It wasn’t until months later that I realized it wasn’t entirely a joke. Yet, as she stood there; a woman perfect in every way, a woman that had more lingerie than I had socks, the only thing I could think of was Sara. Lyn’s face changed. She pulled back a half a step then leaned in again. “There’s someone else.” She said knowingly. I tried to change whatever tale I was showing but I just made it worse as her eyes widened like she was reading a ticker tape on my forehead. “You’re in Love.” She smiled and looked back out the window. I didn’t really know what to say. So, saying nothing seemed the best option. “London Rossi, … In love,” she said to the air between her face and the glass. When she turned back to me, the person I saw before was no more. The person facing me now was the Lyn that you got on the other side of the negotiating table; cold, calculating, detached. “Lucky girl,” she said finishing her drink and walking away. I stood looking at the place she once occupied. The image of her frigid face burned into my head. I looked out the window for a beat. ‘Damn,’ I thought to myself. “Shut it down!” I shouted. I’d barely made it to the Lobby with the money before the cops arrived. I stood on the entry stairs as the swarm of police officers in gas masks pushed past me to the elevators and stairs. No one payed me much mind. Why would they? They were going to break up an illegal gathering they’d been tipped to. I exited on the street and was stopped. I showed my E3 pass and he told me I should hurry back before curfew. Walking to the train, I saw Lyn pass me in the passenger seat of a very expensive car. The driver looked middle aged, clean shaven with a scar above his right eye. Lyn locked eyes with mine. She just winked.

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Back on my block, I felt a sense of relief. I’d made enough money where I could put some distance between my family and the beggar’s line and some extra to help my brother save. All the risk however hadn’t resulted in enough to put aside for Sara and I. Perhaps if I’d had another hour or so? I had spent the ride on the train back fighting off the feeling that there was a chance I wouldn’t be able to save everyone. Economic triage. Similar to the one taking place at every hospital in the country. They were turning away patients, sending them home to die in peace. The question was: who would I eventually be forced to send home; to die lonely and alone. “London,” I heard my name being called. I turned to see Emily who lived five houses down motioning me to the screen door. I walked over. “Hey Em. How are you holding up?” “Not too good, hon. You see those guys here today? The BX22?” That seemed like a week ago to me. “I don’t know how I’m going to pay them and buy food.” “Yea, I know. It’s pretty low. Even for cops.” Emily just nodded. “You still working, huh London?” “Yes I’m lucky.” “I’m obviously not,” She half chuckled, motioning at the robe that was draped around her. “You should come in for a drink, London.” She said and went to push the screen door out. I instinctively put my hand against the outside of the frame to stop it from opening. I noticed in that moment that her front light wasn’t on and we were semi hidden from the street. “I’m not sick, babe.“ She said with a smile and stepped back into her foyer, opening her robe to reveal her naked body. “Just thought we could help each other.”