Pandemic

After giving up on the prospect of sleep, Haldane headed down to the small dark bar in the lobby of the hotel. Someone was playing an Elton John tune passably enough on the baby grand piano, but he butchered the words in his heavily accented nasal voice.

Haldane saw Duncan McLeod sitting alone at the far booth, sipping from a highball glass with another empty glass on the table in front of him. As soon as McLeod spotted him, he hailed him over with a flailing arm. "Haldane, over here! Come listen to 'Someone Shaved My Wife Tonight' the way Sir Elton meant it to be played."

Haldane sat down across from McLeod. "Vodka on the rocks?" the Scotsman asked.

Haldane nodded. McLeod waved three fingers in the air until he caught the attention of their waiter.

"I'm a little behind," Haldane said, indicating the glasses on the table.

"I've no intention of letting you catch up, Haldane," McLeod said with a slight slur.

Haldane had never seen McLeod drink as heavily before. Normally, McLeod looked ten or fifteen years younger than his forty-seven years. Not tonight. The creases around his mouth and eyes seemed deeper. His red hair was even more askew than usual. And there was something melancholic behind his asymmetrical eyes.

"What's wrong, Duncan?"

"Don't know if you've noticed, but I've spent my last week trapped in the capital of Nowheresville, China. Home of the Grim Reaper."

"We're going home very soon."

"Maybe, maybe not." McLeod shrugged his whole upper body. "Doesn't matter much. I don't even remember what home looks like,"

The white-coated waiter arrived at their table. He picked up both of McLeod's glasses and replaced them with two fresh vodkas for McLeod and one for Haldane. "A man could die of thirst waiting for a second drink around here," McLeod explained away his simultaneous drinks with an unsteady finger.

"So you're homeless?" Haldane asked.

"In a manner of speaking." McLeod took a large sip from the first glass. "We've got a cute little hovel in Glasgow, but I'm hardly ever there. With this WHO job, I live out of a suitcase." He heaved a sigh. "Do you know I haven't seen my boys in almost three months?"

Haldane knew that McLeod had twin teenaged boys, but he hardly ever spoke of them or any personal aspect of his life. "How old are they, Duncan?"

"Fourteen. Both in their 'O' levels. What you'd call high school. Smart kids, too." He shook his head as if their age surprised him. "Fourteen!"

"Do they look like Dad?"

"Christ, no! Thank God. I think the missus started sleeping around before the boys came along. Even if they got some of my genes, luckily they got her looks."

"That is lucky." Haldane tasted his drink for the first time.

McLeod glanced at Haldane askance. "You've never seen my wife."

"Doesn't matter."

McLeod howled with laughter and slapped the table. "Haldane, thank God you're on this miserable adventure with me." He took another long tug from his glass. "I spoke to Alistair tonight, but Cameron was too busy to speak to his old man."

Haldane nodded sympathetically. "Teenagers, huh?"

"Nab," McLeod sucked at the first empty glass, as if the ice cubes were hiding precious drops of vodka. "I can't blame them. Their old man hasn't been around much. Too busy chasing little bugs around the world. Now I'm not much more than a stranger to them. Like the dad from that 'Cat's in the Cradle' song."' McLeod turned to the piano player and yelled, "Hey, Elton, you know that song 'Dogs on the Table'?"

"You're still their dad," Haldane said.

McLeod shrugged. He turned his attention to the second glass on the table.

"When this is through, why don't you take some time off to catch up with your kids? Get to know them again," Haldane suggested. "No doubt the WHO owes you some vacation time."

McLeod stared at Haldane for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. "And the others all say you're dumb as a post." He nodded again. "Truth be told, I've been thinking about it. Maybe I will, Haldane. It's been too long since I've seen ugly old Glasgow. And for years now I've been talking about taking the family on a ski trip."

"Couldn't hurt," Haldane said.

"Apparently you haven't seen me sid," McLeod slurred. "And you, Haldane? You have to abandon your wee little one for long stretches, too."

Haldane took a bigger sip from his drink. "Too long."

"Ah, don't beat yourself up. It's not like she'll remember any of it at her age."

Haldane didn't want to talk about Chloe. "Duncan, how does your wife deal with all the time you spend away from home?"

"Fine." He shrugged. "Let's face it, Haldane. Maggie never liked me that much in the first place." His mischievous smile betrayed his obvious affection for his wife. He looked down and swirled the ice in his drink. "You know? Today's our anniversary."

"Congratulations."

"Great. And here I am in a little backwater Chinese wasteland, which Chairman Mao probably didn't even know existed, getting pissed by myself."

Haldane punched McLeod playfully on the shoulder. "You got me now, buddy."