Work Text:
June 20, 2003
Austin, TX metro area
With the day's work finished and the job site set to rights, the Miller brothers usually separated for the evening. Joel had his daughter, Sarah. And Tommy had Places to Be. Especially on a Friday night.
But this particular Friday, Sarah was at a birthday party leading up to a concert downtown. Other parents had handled afterschool pickup (and chaperoning, thank God), but Joel was on the hook to drive some of the kids home after. Tommy owed him a favor, so his Places to Be Tonight included the overpriced ice cream place over by the amphitheater — about an hour later than Joel personally thought a bunch of eighth graders needed to be out in public.
Yeah, yeah, 9th grade, I hear ya, Mija. Technically not till September. I don’t have to admit I've got a kid in high school till September.
So Tommy called in a Chinese takeout order and invited himself to Joel’s house to watch the ball game. The Rangers were hosting the Astros. He claimed the point was to wear Joel down into letting him of the hook and doing the pickup himself. But Joel suspected his brother didn’t mind too much. He hadn’t lined up a date for that night, and Uncle Tommy was a popular guy with the kids.
And with some of their moms. Which was none of Joel’s business as long as it stayed none of his business. In other words, a secret. For himself, Joel maintained a polite blindness to any signals given off by women even remotely connected to Sarah’s life. He’d never risk something like that going bad and gossip (or worse) affecting her.
Back home, Joel unloaded the takeout bag on the kitchen counter. He took out three of the five entrees, putting two (plus egg rolls!) in the fridge. One for Sarah and an insurance meal in case one of her friends stayed over. A late night snack, or festive Saturday morning breakfast tomorrow.
While Joel fiddled with food and plates and such, Tommy fiddled with the kitchen's boom box. He hit the radio presets one by one, never having bothered to learn the channels. One preset, that would prove to be public radio, had both brothers cocking their heads in recognition. A folk group was singing about a Bible story, but in a comedic vein.
But what if Noah had just said "No, suh?"
Well, we'd all have fins instead of skins,
We'd breathe through gills instead of nostrils,
And we'd eat fish food instead of vitamin pills.
It's scary, but it's true. So do what the Good Book tells you to.
"Jesus, didn't we have a couple albums of these guys?" Tommy recalled.
"Still do," Joel said. "I got every record you didn't steal when Mami downsized. She used to play 'em for Sarah when she watched her."
"Oh, yeah," Tommy chuckled. "Girl went through a whole phase, singin' all those. Had one about a potato head girl goin' to jail."
"...about a girl with an unfortunate moniker, Potato," a man on the radio announced.
"You mean this one?" Joel sighed. Tommy may have misremembered, but the full text of "Potato's in the Paddy Wagon" was permanently burned into his eardrums. As the dad, he'd experienced considerably more relentless exposure to the Main Street Singers during that phase of Sarah's. Joel liked folk music well enough, though rock and grunge were more his default. But his little girl had inevitably gravitated to the most the cutesy group of the bunch.
Come on, boys, Potato's in the Paddy Wagon.
Better get her outta there!
Come on, boys, potato's in the Paddy Wagon.
Mama says it just ain't fair.
"I guess I could see naming a kid Potato. Strictly as a nickname, when they're at the blob stage," Tommy conceded. "I'm talkin' ultrasound picture or day-one squishy face. But keeping it up, especially for a pretty girl?"
Joel made a grumble of agreement. "We've heard worse, though." He cocked his head in the direction of Tony and Denise's place across the street. Tommy shook his head in amused sympathy for the little boy in the family: officially Clifton but still saddled with his prenatal nickname.
Lots of folks temporarily called their kid something they got compared to in the womb. Hell, Sarah was The Bean for a little while. But Denise, when her turn came, had just loved hearing that her embryo weighed the same as a paper clip. Dubbed the kid Clippy after that fucking godawful Help program on the computer. If Tony was ever anything but enthusiastic about his pregnant wife's brainstorm, he never said so. Ditto for the kid's official name and its suspiciously similar nickname. Tony was a smart man. Cut to now, Cliffy was in preschool and But he was still Clippy to his mama, Clip to his daddy. At least in front of Denise. Tony was a smart man.
A station break revealed that Joel and Tommy were listening to a live folk group reunion concert on public TV, and the Folksmen were up next. These guys were a lot less annoying if memory served. Dad had liked them OK. Joel and Tommy left the boom box on the public station and were rewarded with Old Joe’s Place, a normal song.
Sadly, the Folksmen had a Sarah-and-Abuela classic of their own. A song cataloguing barnyard animals and making the audience imitate their sounds.
“Shit, I forget all about this one,” Tommy almost whined. “We had to cluck, neigh, croak, yeah - fiddle-ee-fee! The fuck did that have to do with crickets?”
“I never got how bugs count as livestock,” Joel mused. “But I seem to remember you havin' every sound down to an art. Kid ate it up.” Before Uncle Tommy had taken that one for the team, Sarah had insisted on casting everyone present with specific animal parts.
“And you picked out that banjo solo on that guitar, Hermano.”
Busted. If Sarah’s phase had lasted much longer, I’d have gotten a banjo, Joel internally admitted.
There was some kind of delay where the Folksmen were obviously trying to kill time. Then Mitch and Mickey took the stage. They sounded Canadian, talking to the audience.
“Those two broke up ages ago,” Joel recalled. “But they showed up for this. Good for them.”
“Mitch went solo, and it got dark,” Tommy contributed. “Graves on album covers, shit like that.” He made a mental note to rifle through Joel's LP collection for samples.
“Shh, I always liked this one.” Joel shushed Tommy.
When you’re standing next to me
Steeple bells ring, only good things do I see.
“Best one so far, you’re right about that,” Tommy conceded.
A couple of lines into the former lovebirds’ next song, Tommy had a lightbulb moment.
“They used to kiss at the end of this one," Tommy interjected. “Think they will?”
"Bet they do." Everyone in that hall is waitin' for it.
Reading each other's minds, the brothers left their Chinese food on the kitchen table and headed to the living room, where Tommy turned on the TV and flipped to the public TV channel.
Mickey, looking good in middle age, had a solo.
My sweet, my dear, my darling,
You're so far away from me.
Though an ocean of fears divides us
Let the bridge of our love span the sea.
After an instrumental interlude, Mitch on guitar and Mickey on autoharp, the moment came.
There's a kiss at the end of the rainbow...
A pause. Joel and Tommy leaned forward in their seats.
Mitch looked at Mickey, questioning with his eyes.
Mickey looked back, answering with her eyes.
They kissed.
The Town Hall audience sighed, then clapped.
More precious than a pot of gold.
After the concert, the ball game was a bust. Oh, the right team won, but it got pretty boring -- the Rangers blew out the Astros 12-3. Pretty soon the brothers were just kinda monitoring the carnage on TV while Joel noodled around on his Taylor and Tommy rifled through the folk LPs they'd inherited. His hunt for evidence of Mitch's dark, post-breakup solo period turned up empty. None of the album covers featured the straightjacket and graveyard he could have sworn he remembered. Guess Mami didn't keep those. Musta been Dad's.
But Tommy easily located Over the Moon, If This Rose Could Talk, and When You're Next to Me. Mitch & Mickey's sweet lovebird shit, plus some records by the other groups they'd just heard.
"Nice," Tommy sighed.
And it was nice. Over the next couple of weeks Tommy and Joel officially listened to a few of their parents' folk music records at Joel's house, taking turns noodling around quietly on Joel's guitar. Well, mainly just Mitch & Mickey and the Folksmen. The Main Street Singers made one appearance, just to torture Sarah about her long-outgrown musical tastes.
It would take Joel a lot longer than Tommy, but decades later they'd remember this folk music revisit as one of their last sweet, uncomplicated times as a family Before. There'd come a day when Mitch and Mickey concerts would be a staple of their live entertainment rotation, but they wouldn't have believed it then. And who could blame them? That day was years, miles, and worlds away.
~*~
THREE MONTHS LATER
September 26, 2003
Chicago, IL metro area AND Jackson Hole, Wyoming
Leonard Crabbe was having the best week ever, and the best part was still to come.
It was the first time Sure Flo had exhibited a booth at Chicago’s bladder management trade show, and it had gone smoothly. Leonard was sure that new business would flow to his catheter company from the contacts he'd made, and he'd discovered some interesting new products to consider inserting into his work streams.
Even better, Leonard’s brother and sister-in-law had recently moved their family to the area, and they would be getting together that evening.
Since this was his first-ever visit to Chicago itself, Leonard's lovely wife had fully supported extending his trip to take in some attractions on his bucket list. After all that, he planned to jet over to Wyoming in time to catch Mitch and Mickey's Saturday evening performance in the Jackson Hole resort area.
The Illinois Railway Museum had exceeded every expectation for a pre-convention detour. The plan had gone off without a hitch. Leonard’s early flight to O’Hare had landed in plenty of time to rent a car and make the hour’s drive to the 80-acre facility. The largest, really, of any rail museum of which he was aware. Arriving easily by midday allowed for a full afternoon at the museum. Spending the first night nearby had allowed for a supplemental morning visit before driving back to the convention venue in Chicago.
Leonard’s alternate plan had been to visit one of the model train stores in the area that morning. But the Railway Museum had been well worth the additional time. He’d finally been able to peruse a shop in the nearby suburb of Berwyn yesterday after packing up his exhibit booth.
"So they're gonna ship everything to the office?" Mickey's voice asked over the mobile phone.
"Oh yes, darling," Leonard answered. "The shop assistants were very kind. Said it should only come to two medium boxes." The lads in the Sure Flo mailroom wouldn't mind. That was the advantage of owning your own company. And besides, all his employees had their shopping delivered there. Leonard took a gentle view of such matters. He very much enjoyed briefly admiring everyone's personal interests.
"And, uh, how long before the Museum opens?" Mickey changed the subject.
"Only 35 minutes now!" Leonard was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. Mickey could practically see him doing it through the phone. "I'm at a cafe across the street. Very nice breakfast scones.”
Last on Leonard's itinerary was the historic Museum of Science and Industry on the city's near south side, near one of its fine universities. It boasted the first locomotive to exceed 100 miles per hour, and a train from the 1930s that was an considered an art deco masterpiece.
The big trains would be lovely, Leonard knew. But the pièce de résistance: one of the most legendary model train installations known to Leonard. The model of downtown Chicago’s public transit trains (he practiced saying “Da El”) would have been worth a trip quite on its own merit. But the museum had recently unveiled a by-all-accounts-astonishing model train set spanning the Chicago-Seattle route. Leonard had brought his train conductor cap, but was undecided about wearing it.
Best of all, MSI was holding an event for members called a Camp-in, that very night. Leonard’s brother was bringing his family (and an extra sleeping bag for Uncle Len) to make a night of it.
"Well, I'll be chuffed to hear all about it, hon," Mickey started the process of freeing her husband from the call. "We've got an appearance at the music store this afternoon. And then when you're all settled for the night we'll probably be performing. So let's catch up in the morning, does that sound good?"
"Perfect, Darling. Best of luck to you and Mitch tonight. Best love and kisses," Leonard concluded.
"You too, hon. And give my love to Claire and Jim, and the kids."
In her room after the show, Mickey put on cable news while she went about her bedtime routine. She heard something about violent crime in the Southwest and Gulf states, maybe from a dangerous new street drug. Mickey followed trends of that nature, but the news brief didn’t register as something relevant in real time, here in Wyoming or at home in Upstate New York. She got comfy and selected an HBO showing of My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
She woke to a series of voicemails that changed all that.
“Hi Darling, I’m with Jim and Claire and the kids. We’ve had a wonderful time tonight and they all send their love. But... we’re... leaving the museum. It’s about four AM. People have been hearing such awful news. Absolutely bonkers stuff. We’re driving home (theirs, I mean, of course). The thing is to get out of the city. My flight is cancelled and people are saying airports are being closed. I’m not sure how soon I can —“
*beep*
“It’s... ah... 20 hours to Jackson Hole and 12 hours to dive home. As you know, there are no trains closer than Salt Lake City. I don’t know. Listen, Mickey. They’re talking about a virus that makes people violent. Viciously violent. Perhaps transmitted by blood, by biting. But that’s not scientific, that’s anecdotal. But they've started shooting sick people rather than getting close enough to subdue them. If someone loses it, keep them away, even if —“
*beep*
“Mickey, here's what we think. Stay put. Off the beaten path as they say. But Claire pointed out, any sickness is a plane ride away from anywhere. Best to isolate as much as you can. Watch each other. Spend time this morning getting some food, supplies and then hunker down. What, Jim? Yes, actually. It's hunting season. He's asking if you're both armed. I'm glad --"
*beep*
"Forgot to say I had the most marvelous time today. Thank you for being so smashing about this trip. I wish you could have seen the kids having the time of their lives running around that museum tonight. I love you, Mickey. I'll call when there's some kind of plan. I'm glad you aren't alone. Bye, now."
*beep*
~*~
END OF WORK
~*~
STORY NOTES
There's a reason I'm not using the End Notes feature for this, but it's boring.
Skip to the introduction to this crossover AU!
Nicknaming a kid Potato? IYKYN. The song "Potato's in the Paddy Wagon" IRL was written by Michael McKean and his wife, Annette O'Tool to pass the time driving cross-country while U.S. airspace was closed following 9/11. The words were originally intended as a placeholder. (Source: DVD commentary.) In "A Mighty Wind" it's presumed to have earlier origins, maybe the 1960s.
Clippy was prevalent in Microsoft Office from about 2001 to 2003. It was the most iconic (or infamous) version of the Office Assistant feature that debuted with Windows 1997. You could disable it or choose other designs, but this wasn't made obvious in the UX. The feature was disabled not long after the time depicted here.
On the day of the folk concert, Sarah is about five weeks from turning 14 per info in Tommy's house in Jackson, I'm deeming her a rising high school freshman, having started Kindergarten at (recently) 5 years old. Some parents were probably "red-shirting" kids by that time, waiting till their kids were 6. But IMO Joel would see no reason to, since he started at almost five, having a late September birthday. (That's official in this AU, and was common practice during his childhood if the kid could behave.) The cost of child care for another year would factor in as well for a single parent.
On this day, Joel and Tommy leave work early enough to arrive at Joel's house with takeout food shortly after 6:00 PM Texas time, stumbling on the concert a few minutes into the first set. This was the 7:00 hour in New York City, where public TV and radio broadcast the concert live after their nightly news.
The baseball game started at 7:05 or so Texas time. IRL the Texas Rangers really did beat the Houston Astros 12-3 on June 20, 2003. I have the Miller brothers preferring the Rangers because Joel was born (per his FEDRA ID card shown in the game) in Arlington, where they play. But neither brother is devoted enough to sit through a blowout.
The guitars Joel owns in Austin pre-outbreak and gives Ellie in Jackson are Taylor 314k acoustic guitars.
In Part 2 of the game, the need for new guitar strings occasions a scavenging trip to a music store in the Jackson area. In this fic, this very store hosted an appearance by Mitch and Mickey to sign CDs and other items on September 26, 2003, later known as Outbreak Day. (Mickey briefly mentions this appointment in her morning phone call with her husband.) For this reason, Jackson residents like Tommy and his family will one day have access to some very familiar folk music.
Leonard's catheter company name? IYKYK. It's too good a line to spoil. See "A Mighty Wind." I have no idea whether there is or was a major incontinence product trade show in Chicago. The Outbreak does prevent Mickey from ever having to compose a folk song for such occasions, as seen in the movie's epilogue.
The railway museum, model train store, and Museum of Science and Industry exhibits mentioned are real. I'm sure Leonard duly appreciated the other vehicles displayed there, including an actual 727 cantilevered to a balcony, and a Word War II German U-boat captured at sea. But he's a train guy. MSI's trains are gorgeous, and one could indeed spend hours examining the model trains. It would take several days to do that museum justice.
The Museum of Science and Industry did host camp-ins for member families in the late 1990s, if not later. Attendees could sleep in the exhibit halls after enjoying special activities and Imax movie showings. I don't know if they still do (none are currently scheduled) or if not, when they stopped. But this was real thing close enough to the Oubreak date to include it.
I see Leonard spending the day at MSI, buying some train books and other souvenirs at the gift shop, and perusing his purchases in one of many picturesque spots nearby while waiting to meet his family. There is an attractive lake front, wooded area, and the University of Chicago campus nearby. Just the palette cleanser needed between long museum sessions.
Leonard's brother is named after Jim Piddock, who memorably played Leonard as a well-intentioned, but pedantic and long-winded person. We never see him discussing anything but trains and incontinence care. Piddock also played the long-suffering dog show commentator Trevor Beckwith, who had to endure the off-color color commentary provided by Fred Willard's character in Best in Show.
Outbreak Day in Chicago: Chicago had at least a day longer than Austin before tainted food hit shelves en masse. The distribution chain from Indonesia hit the southwest and gulf states first. Shelf stable food like flour would ship by sea. If the ships dock in Houston, Austin is less than 3 hours away by truck. Chicago is 16 hours away by truck and a couple of days away by train. That first night, September 26, infected violence would in Chicago would be rare, and from people traveling within the last day or so from places like Austin. The parents and staff at the Museum camp-in would be reacting to events happening elsewhere. Guest could receive cell phone calls, and the staff staying awake overnight would have access to media and the Internet. Developments like O'Hare and Midway airports shutting down would be a response to the grave situation elsewhere, and would help the awareness build that something was hitting the fan. And being so close to 9/11 would make it easier to take seriously.
However it happens, I'm very glad Leonard got that day at MSI and was with his family on the last weekend of September 2003.
[MY OFF TOPIC ISSUE WITH THE HBO OUTBREAK ORIGIN STORY: This fic ignores this. But the timing of the discovery of the factory outbreak leaves questions. The Indonesian scientists (over tea) confirm the inability to contain the outbreak locally on Wednesday afternoon their time - let's say 3:30 PM/15:30 in Jakarta, 3:30 AM in Washington, DC, 2:30 AM in Texas. The first known "turning" took place 60 hours prior. In Joel and Sarah's kitchen, the Friday 7:30 AM radio news brief (53 hours later) discusses the chaos in Jakarta. That seems realistic timing since turning started. But subtle background clues show the US military already encircling Austin. Assuming the military scientist took the mycologist seriously, they could have secured the factory and worked with the staff to ID where tainted shipments likely went - if they know. But it's AWFULLY fast to accomplish the kind of international coordination that would have the US military on the move. Another complication is how long it takes to get cargo ships from Indonesia to Houston, the likely first stop since Austin was blindsided. (If the first tainted products hit San Diego, California would have been affected first, and Austin would have had some warning. That ocean voyage takes a few weeks. For the US Outbreak to happen a mere 113 hours (less than 5 days) after the first factory staffer turned, tainted food had to be in transit a couple of weeks before she turned. It works if the Indonesian scientists and factory managers (with the military ready to shoot "turners" on sight) raced to trace where they sourced the tainted flour, narrow down the potentially tainted shipments (i.e. stuff in transit or JUST hitting shelves), and see where they were headed. Telling the Americans by Thursday that their first potentially tainted shipments were already being distributed from Houston, and could be on store shelves imminently. They'd try to recall everything, but there just wasn't enough time to alert every business involved. Hence, the US government preparing containment measures, hoping that those unstoppable shipments had, in fact, left the factory before the cordyceps infestation.
That works for the US. But wouldn't other countries, closer to Indonesia, start eating the tainted flour WEEKS EARLIER THAN TEXANS DID? Given Joel's opinion that everything was gone in 4 days, the infection would spread in Asia, too dramatically to hide from the American public, weeks before anyone in the US ate tainted food. The shipments by sea would be stopped sooner. Americans would be infected only by bites from travelers. The Outbreak would be containable in the Western Hemisphere by blockades, quarantines, and euthanasia. I don't suggest it would be uniformly successful, but the curve would be flattened to allow the governments to act more deliberately. ]