Free Influenza: Viral Virulence by Steven Ohliger Page B

store, Michael could see the top of Wilbur’s head. He had his head down, busy at work. The pharmacy technician was at the computer hammering away at the keyboard. Both of them were wearing masks.
    An elderly lady wearing a blue mask was at the counter inquiring about getting a flu shot.
    “Sorry, we’re out of the flu vaccine, ma’am,” the technician said.
    Wilbur looked up from filling a prescription vial with tablets and noticed Michael. He waved him over to the access door on the side of the pharmacy. Michael walked over and reached to open the door.
    Wilbur shocked Michael by reaching out and holding the door only halfway open, preventing Michael from entering.
    “How are you feeling, Michael?” Wilbur asked, studying him closely.
    Taken aback, Michael replied, “I feel fine, except for this lump on my head that I got from visiting Wayne’s place last Friday…”
    “Really, you’re feeling fine?” Wilbur interrupted. “Any sneezing, coughing, aches, pains? Any cold-like or flu-like symptoms?”
    “No,” Michael answered, a little confused.
    “Okay,” Wilbur said, still holding the door. “I want you to go home.”
    “What?” Michael exclaimed. “But I’m not sick.”
    “Exactly. This pharmacy is a hotbed of germs. Like in the hospitals and doctors’ offices, most of the customers who come in here are sick. You know that. We’re on the front line in a war against germs, and ultimately, we’re the first to be exposed.” Wilbur turned his head away and coughed into his mask. Turning back to Michael, he continued. “If you are feeling well, I don’t want you working here and getting sick. I’m already not feeling well. I want you to go home. It’s for your own good. I don’t want you catching anything from me or the customers.”
    Michael stood there stunned.
    “Go!” Wilbur coughed once again and started closing the door. Before the door was completely closed, he turned back to Michael. “Go get some masks and gloves from aisle seven before you leave. And remember to always, always wash your hands after touching anything that someone else has touched. You can come back to work next week when this has all blown over.”
    He closed the door, leaving Michael standing there, momentarily stunned. Michael blinked and then slowly turned around. Walking down the aisle, he found the gloves he had been looking for in the grocery store yesterday. There were only two boxes left. Getting both, he noticed that the masks were almost sold out. Fortunately, he already had some at home.
    Stopping by the cooler to grab a soda, he looked around at the customers in the store. Thanks to Janice, they were all wearing masks. However, some were sneezing and coughing. No wonder Wilbur was getting sick. He should have taken the day off himself, but he was a trooper. He’d be there helping other people even if he was half dead. That was just the type of person he was.
    Michael felt a twinge of guilt and thought about returning to the pharmacy and talking Wilbur into letting him help. But Michael knew Wilbur. He was a stubborn man and was more concerned about Michael’s safety than his own. He’d never let Michael through that door.
    As Michael paid Janice for his purchases, he heard her sneeze. “Take care of that cold, will you, Janice?”
    “Nothing that a little chicken soup won’t take care of,” she said, smiling at Michael under the mask. “Now get out of here before you catch something too!”
    Michael left with a heavy heart.
    Walking along the sidewalk on his long journey toward the garage to get his truck, Michael keyed in Lorie’s cell number. Something seemed to be wrong with the reception, because he only got a fast busy signal. After multiple attempts with the same results, he keyed in the phone number for the sorority house landline.
    At the same time that Michael and his friends had joined the fraternity, Lorie had joined one of the sororities. While his fraternity house was located just a