The Pull of the Stars

She murmured, We could always blame the stars. I beg your pardon, Doctor? That's what influenza means, she said. Influenza delle stelle—the influence of the stars. Medieval Italians thought the illness proved that the heavens were governing their fates, that people were quite literally star-crossed. I pictured that, the celestial bodies trying to fly us like upsidedown kites. Or perhaps just yanking on us for their obscure amusement.

The human race settles on terms with every plague in the end, the doctor told her. Or a stalemate, at the least. We somehow muddle along, sharing the earth with each new form of life.

I seem to have stumbled onto love, like a pothole in the night.

COVER UP EACH COUGH OR SNEEZE…FOOLS AND TRAITORS SPREAD DISEASE.

Only for the duration, of course, for the foreseeable future, as the posters said. Though I was having trouble foreseeing any future. How would we ever get back to normal after the pandemic

Nursing was like being under a spell: you went in very young and came out older than any span of years could make you.

At any rate, let’s not waste time on ruminations and regrets in the middle of a pandemic.

That’s what influenza means, she said. Influenza delle stelle—the influence of the stars. Medieval Italians thought the illness proved that the heavens were governing their fates, that people were quite literally star-crossed.

I gazed up at the sky and let my eyes flicker from one constellation to another, to another, jumping between stepping stones. I thought of the heavenly bodies throwing down their narrow ropes to hook us. I’ve never believed the future was inscribed for each of us the day we were born. If anything were written in the stars, it was we who joined those dots, and our lives were the writing. But baby Garrett, born dead yesterday, and all those whose stories were over before they began, and those who opened their eyes and found they were living in a long nightmare, like Bridie and baby White, who decreed that, I wondered, or at least allowed it?

Influenza delle stelle—the influence of the stars.

This flu was clogging the whole works of the hospital. Not just the hospital, I reminded myself—the whole of Dublin. The whole country. As far as I could tell, the whole world was a machine grinding to a halt. Across the globe, in hundreds of languages, signs were going up urging people to cover their coughs.

You and I are lucky, Nurse Power. I frowned. Lucky? To be alive and well, you mean? To be here, in the middle of this. We'll never learn more or faster.

I’d never believed the future was inscribed for each of us the day we were born. If anything was written in the stars, it was we who joined those dots, and our lives were the writing.

I’m beginning to know enough to know that I know nothing.

And one of these days, even this flu will have run its course. Really? Mary O’Rahilly asked. How can you be sure? The human race settles on terms with every plague in the end, the doctor told her. Or a stalemate, at the least. We somehow muddle along, sharing the earth with each new form of life.

Guilt was the sooty air we breathed these days.

None of this dirt is yours, I told her. You’re as clean as rain. She kissed me, but on the forehead this time.

The old world was changed utterly, dying on its feet, and a new one was struggling to be born.

looked up and found the Great Bear. I told her, In Italy, they used to blame the influence of the constellations for making them sick—that’s where influenza comes from. Bridie took that notion in stride. As if, when it’s your time, your star gives you a yank—

influenza means, she said. Influenza delle stelle—the influence of the stars. Medieval Italians thought the illness proved that the heavens were governing their fates, that people were quite literally star-crossed.

PUBLIC IS URGED TO STAY OUT OF PUBLIC PLACES SUCH AS CAFÉS, THEATRES, CINEMAS, AND PUBLIC HOUSES. SEE ONLY THOSE PERSONS ONE NEEDS TO SEE. REFRAIN FROM SHAKING HANDS, LAUGHING, OR CHATTING CLOSELY TOGETHER. IF ONE MUST KISS, DO SO THROUGH A HANDKERCHIEF. SPRINKLE SULPHUR IN THE SHOES. IF IN DOUBT, DON’T STIR OUT.

of human traffic that connected all nations into one great suffering body.

Well, as they say, all cats are grey in the dark.

So instead of poverty, I’d write malnourishment or debility. As code for too many pregnancies, I might put anaemia, heart strain, bad back, brittle bones, varicose veins, low spirits, incontinence, fistula, torn cervix, or uterine prolapse. There was a saying I’d heard from several patients that struck a chill into my bones: She doesn’t love him unless she gives him twelve.

Look around you, Mr. Groyne. This is where every nation draws its first breath. Women have been paying the blood tax since time began.

We could always blame the stars. I beg your pardon, Doctor? That’s what influenza means, she said. Influenza delle stelle—the influence of the stars. Medieval Italians thought the illness proved that the heavens were governing their fates, that people were quite literally star-crossed. I pictured that, the celestial bodies trying to fly us like upside-down kites. Or perhaps just yanking on us for their obscure amusement

A change is as good as a rest.

Sinn Féiners? (The Gaelic phrase meant us-aloners. They went around ranting that home rule wouldn’t be enough now; nothing would content them but a breakaway republic.)

As far as I could tell, the whole world was a machine grinding to a halt. Across the globe, in hundreds of languages, signs were going up urging people to cover their coughs.