Maybe it ain't cold....?

Jack was working in the garage, fitting a new pipe under the Scout.

Hendrick Palfrey was rocking back on a folding camp chair, sipping his bacon soda and watching Jack work.

When the bell at the front dinged, Hendrick squinted and said, "I think it's the cops. Looks like your cousin there. Young bear. Jacob. Blake."

Jack came out from beneath the Scout, wiping his greasy hands on a ball of waste.

On his way through the office, he sneezed heavily. "Achoo!" He hated summer colds; they were the worst. His forehead was damp with cold sweat.

Jacob Blake, who was almost six and 2 inches tall, stood by the back of his cruiser, filling out some details.

Beyond him, three pumps that had been driven over the night before were neatly lined up like dead soldiers.

"Hey, Jacob Blake," Jack said, a hint of sadness in his voice as he came out.

"Jack, you dumb bitch," Jacob Blake said, putting the pump handle on automatic and strapping over the hose. "You're lucky this place is still standing this morning, eh? The night was pretty harsh! Yeah? Shit."

"Daniel Rhett saw the guy coming and jumped up from his seat to switch off the pumps. There was a load of sparks, though." Jack spoke while the images played in his mind

"Still damn lucky. Listen, Jack. I came over for something besides a fill-up, Look I need some details but I want one more thing from you. Yeah?"

"I don't know, man. What is it?" Jack asked, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.

Jacob's eyes flicked to Hendrick, who was standing in the station doorway. "Was this old Sack here last night?"

"Who? Hendrick? Yeah, he comes over almost every night. He's... he's like our old man."

"Can't he fucking keep his mouth shut?" Jacob whispered harshly.

"Oh. Well, I don't know. What happened? Did he say something? Well, I'll make sure he is good enough, old boy, you know," Jack assured Jacob.

The automatic fill kicked off. Jack squeezed off another 20 cents' worth and then put the nozzle back on the pump and switched it off. He walked back to Jacob. "So, what is the story?"

"Well, let's go inside. I guess the old fella is out here to hear, too. And if you get a chance, you can phone me up the rest of them that happened here."

They walked across the tarmac and into the rest office. "A good morning to you, officer," Hendrick said, raising his bacon soda in a salute.

Jacob Blake nodded tersely.

"Coffee, Jacob?"Jack asks him.

"I guess not," Jacob replied, looking around the dingy office heavily.

"The thing is, I don't know how my superiors would react to me being here at all." He paused and then spoke.

"I don't know. I don't think they would even like it. So, when those guys come here, you don't let them know that I came. Okay? I tipped you, right?"

"What guys, officer?" Hendrick asked, feigning innocence.

"The shit is up this man," Jacob muttered to himself under his breath.

"Health department guys, Mr. Hendrick."

"Oh, guess, I think it was cholera. I know it was." Hendrick told Jacob.

Jack looked from one to another, trying to piece together the conversation. "Jacob Blake?"

"I don't know anything," Jacob said, sitting down in one of the plastic Vulco chairs.

His bony knees came nearly up to his neck.

He took a bag of Doritos from his pocket and started eating, the crunching noise filling the awkward silence.

Jack looked at Jacob Blake. "Jacob Blake, what's going on?"

"The County Sheriff, Frederick—"

"He was such a jerk," Jack interrupted angrily. "You should have seen him strutting around here last night like he owned the place, bossing everyone around."

"Yeah, he's full of himself," Jacob Blake agreed. "Well, he got Dr. Jasper examine the guy from the hospital control room, Matt who died on the way and then they called in another doctor I don't know. After that, they called Sydney around five in the morning. Some people flew into that little airport in the morning."

"What? WHO?" Jack asked, taking in all the information.

"The pathologists, they came, three or four of them. They worked on the bodies until about nine o'clock. I think they were doing autopsies or biopsies, but I'm not sure. Then they called the Centre for Diseases Control in Sydney, and those guys are coming here this evening. In the meantime, the Port Pirie Healthcare Department is sending people to check on everyone who was at the station last night and the ones who came for the rescue and drove to the health care unit. It sounds like they want you guys quarantined." Jacob finished with a plain worried look on his face

"Holy crap," Jack said, scared with astonishment, his face pale.

"The Centre for Disease Control is federal," Hendrick added. "Would they send a plane load of federal experts just for cholera?"

"Why do you say it is cholera? Can you please stop doing that? You don't have any idea, and I have no idea about what is going on, but I thought you guys should know from what I heard. I was just trying to help and you are also trying to help, but don't move on the fake news of cholera to everyone's ears. Have I made myself understood?" Jacob was annoyed by Hendrick's guesses.

"Thanks, Jacob Blake," Jack said slowly. "What did Dr. Jasper and the other doctor say?"

"Not much, but they looked scared. I've never seen doctors look that scared before. It really worried me. I think this is something a lot more serious," Jacob Blake said with worry etched on his face.

There was a heavy silence. Jacob walked over to the drink machine and got a bottle of Dr. Pepper. The faint hiss of carbonation was audible as he popped the cap.

He took a long, thoughtful swig, the soda fizzing loudly in the quiet room. Jacob sat down again.

Jack took a paper towel from the cash counter roll and wiped his runny nose, folding it back into the pocket of his greasy outfit

Hendrick broke the silence. "What have you found out about that guy? Anything?"

Jacob straightened up, a trace of importance in his voice. "We are still checking. His ID says he was from Adelaide, but a lot of the stuff in his wallet was two or three years out of date."

"Like what?"

"His driver's licence was expired, and he had some bank card that was issued years back in 1990-something. That's expired too. He had a hospital employment card, so we're still checking with them. The captain has a hunch that Matt lived in Adelaide for four years. I don't know much about his background yet, but we are still checking."

Hendrick nodded, then spat outside the doorway he was standing in, the sound harsh in the still air.

Jack spoke up. "Well, I'll get in touch with the others and tell them what you all said. It is much obliged."

Jacob stood up, stretching. "Sure, just keep my name out of it. I sure wouldn't want to lose my job. Your buddies don't need to know who tipped you, do they?"

"No, we don't," Jack and Hendrick echoed together.

As Jacob walked to the door, Jack called after him apologetically, "That is six for gas, Jacob Blake. I hate to charge you, but with things the way they are..."

"That's okay," Jacob said, handing him a credit card. "Gotta keep things square. And I got my credit slip to show where I was and why I was here."

While Jack was filling out the slip, he sneezed again. "Achoo! Achoo!" He sneezed twice, his eyes watering.

"You want to watch that?" Jacob said, glancing at him with mild concern. "Nothing worse than a summer cold."

"You're saying as if I don't know about it," Jack muttered, rubbing his nose.

Suddenly, from behind, Hendrick spoke up, his voice trembling. "Maybe it ain't cold."

Jacob and Jack turned to look at him. Hendrick's face was pale, his eyes wide with fear.

"What do you mean?" Jacob asked, his voice dropping to a tense whisper.