Autumn in the City of Angels Read Free Page A

terror.  It was my phone.  I could see the lit screen – a small rectangle of light in the dark room.  I sighed heavily.  It wasn’t a message or someone calling.  The battery was low.
    I retrieved the charger and plugged it into a socket in the kitchen.  I mechanically called my dad again, hopeless that I’d actually get through.
    “Hello!?”  My dad’s deep voice rushed through me, reassuring me.
    “Dad!  Thank God!  I’ve been trying to call you all afternoon!” I realized we were talking over each other and stopped so I could hear what he was saying.
    “—haven’t been able to get anyone on the phone for hours!  Are you okay?  Where are you?”
    “I’m at home.  I’m fine.  I went to see Sarah on my way to the radio station, and we saw her mom on the news with a fever and her dad told us to come back here, but she went to find her parents anyway and—”
    My dad cut me off. “Please stay inside, sweetie.  I’m trying to get home now.  I had to drive up to Malibu this afternoon to oversee a construction problem.  I’ve never seen traffic like this.  I’ve been on the road for hours.  Did you get any of my messages?”
    “No, nothing.  I’ve been leaving you messages.”
    “The phone lines must be overloaded.  I’m sorry, sweetheart.  It might be a few hours before I can get home.  Just stay inside.”  His voice began to sound labored.  “Don’t go out on the terrace, and don’t open any windows.  Have you taken your temperature?” he asked, breathing deeply now.
    I nodded and then realized he couldn’t see me so I said, “Yes, it’s normal.”
    “Good girl.  I don’t know how often I’ll be able to get through to you on the phone.”  He paused, then said, “Wow, that full moon sure is bright tonight, isn’t it, Missus?”
    I swallowed, confused.  “Missus” was his nickname for my mother.  I looked out the kitchen window and saw only a quarter moon.  Chills broke out over my back.
    “Dad, have you taken your temperature?”  I asked.
    There was a pause before I heard him cheerfully answer.  “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.  I’ll be home soon.  I love you.”
    “Love you, too,” I said automatically, then panicked and cried out, “Dad!  Wait!”  But he’d already hung up.  I’d forgotten to tell him my mother left a message.
    “... is being upgraded to an official plague.” I heard a news reporter say from the living room.  I turned my attention back to the television.  “Unofficial reports from inside Cedars now claim the fatality rate is suspected to be nearly 100 percent.”  The reporter’s face was flushed behind a white surgical mask, and I watched him sway and then steady himself against the desktop.  “The disease is setting new records with its unparalleled rate of globalization.”  He paused to loosen his already-loose tie even more.  “The CDC reports that the first case was recorded at eight a.m. in Los Angeles and by mid-afternoon, hundreds of other cases were reported worldwide.  This is... this is unprecedented...”
    I slid down the cabinets to the floor.  What was happening?  How could a disease spread so fast?  My dad was experiencing dementia.  That was one of the symptoms.  He was hours from home.  Could I go get him somehow?  Where would I even start looking?  He hadn’t told me what route he’d taken.  My mother’s words echoed through my head, “If you’re lost, stay where you are.  We’ll find you.”  I should stay home.  He would find me.  I just had to wait.
    I sat on the kitchen floor, aware of the hours passing and the shifting light as the sun rose.  I waited to hear my dad’s key in the door.  But he never came home, and my mother didn’t call back.  The texts from Sarah stopped by morning, too.
    A rock formed in my stomach, a heavy, dense rock of truth.  My parents weren’t coming home.  I stared at the creamy Los Angeles morning sky and was too stunned to even