1.5 HW Quiz GenEd Yellow Fever in New Orleans

Gabriel dipped his bucket into the rain barrel outside his family's small house, then paused to wipe the sweat that coated his forehead like a second skin. It was July in New Orleans and as Gabriel's father would say, it was hot enough to make the devil sweat. Despite the sweltering temperature, Gabriel wore long sleeves. This was just one of the precautions health experts advised people to take to protect themselves from mosquito bites, which they said carried Yellow Fever. They also directed people to pour oil on top of any standing water, like rain barrels, so mosquitos couldn't lay their eggs on the surface. The rain barrel at Gabriel's house was oil-free. Gabriel's parents, like many others, found it hard to believe that tiny mosquitos could cause such a deadly disease.

"Hey, Gabriel!" His best friend, Lucien, called to him over the fence that separated their backyards. "When are you coming back to school? It's dull as dirt there without you."

Gabriel shook his head. "I don't know, Lucien. Mama says going out in public these days is an invitation to sickness." He had not left his house in weeks, not even to go play at Lucien's.

"You could be bitten by a mosquito at home just as easily as anywhere else." Lucien protested.

"Tell that to my parents. It's 1905, but their thinking is stuck in the 1800s. They think the disease is caused by vapors in the air. They blame outsiders and immigrants for breathing Yellow Fever into our city. Like if you bump up against one of them, their foreign bacteria jump onto your skin and infect you," grumbled Gabriel.

"Well," Lucien said, as he poured a thin layer of oil over his family's water cistern. "It is spread by foreigners, but by foreign mosquitos, not people. Don't they read the newspaper? There was an article in there today about a doctor in Cuba who worked with our military to prove that it's carried by mosquitos. It came here on cargo ships."

"Mother only reads the obituary section. She says she's too busy taking care of my baby sister, Sophie, to read beyond that. But she keeps up on who's died and sends out condolence letters when people she knows have lost loved ones. She sure has gone through a lot of stationery." Gabriel trickled some water from the bucket into his mouth. It was warm, but still, the wetness was soothing going down his dry throat. "She cried when she read that Archbishop Chapelle died."

"She knew the Archbishop?" gaped Lucien.

"No, but his obituary reminded her of how much she misses going to church," said Gabriel.

"What about your dad?" asked Lucien.

"Nah, I don't think he really misses church, too much," said Gabriel.

"I mean, does he read the newspapers?" asked Lucien.

"Oh. My father doesn't trust newspapers. He says they'll print any old nonsense just to sell more copies. Says newspapers are only good for two things: fanning oneself in this heat and swatting bugs."

"At least he's killing mosquitos," Lucien pointed out.

"Yes, but it's not enough." sighed Gabriel. "My parents aren't following any of the city ordinances. My dad says we don't have the money to buy screens for the windows and mosquito netting for our beds, and that we're not going to waste oil by adding it to perfectly clean water."

"They know they could get fined, or worse, thrown in jail, for not doing this stuff, right?"

"He says the city's more focused on what to do with all those who've died, than keeping track of those who are still living," answered Gabriel. "There're more deaths than the local cemeteries can handle."

"I hear folks say that pretty soon, people will have to start digging their own graves," Lucien joked, but then changed to a somber expression. "I guess it's not really that funny, though."

"No, not really," said Gabriel. His mouth was a grim line.

"Tell you, what," said Lucien, brightly. "Give me five minutes and I'll come knocking on your door and invite you over. It will be harder for your parents to say ‘no’ to my face, right? Especially an incredibly handsome and charming face like mine." Lucien winked. "It'll be good for you to get out of the house.

Both boys carried their water buckets back into their house. Barely, a minute had passed when there was a tap, tap, tap, at Gabriel's door.

"I'll get it," called Gabriel. He rushed to the door before his parents could order him not to answer it out of fear that Yellow Fever was knocking. He threw open the door, saying "You're early. All the clocks broken in your house?"

But instead of Lucien, two uniformed police officers stood on their front steps. Despite the heat, a shiver ran down Gabriel's spine. They were dressed in blue, but Gabriel had a sinking feeling they were there on yellow business.