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The Dystopian Diaries

Page 60

by K. W. Callahan


  Ah-ha! There she is, calling that she’s ready to go. Good! I’m starving! And I know that if I’m hungry, AJ must be on the verge of starvation. This new generation just has no tolerance for delayed gratification. Everything has to be now, now, now! Speaking of which, he’s staring at me out here on the patio through the living room sliding glass door, giving me his ‘impatient’ look.

  I’ll write more later.

  11:14 a.m.

  WOW! That was a real stuff-gutter of a breakfast. It was kind of nice. Crabby Jack’s wasn’t that busy, so we decided to eat in the restaurant. I like the décor inside – nothing fancy, just some seascape murals, photos of old fishing boats, and a big fisherman’s net with assorted shells and other sea stuff (driftwood, crab claws, sand dollars, starfish, and a big whale bone) woven into it.

  It was delicious as always; and now it’s time to hit the beach!

  2:37 p.m.

  Lunch was a little late today because of our hefty breakfast. We just did ham and cheese sandwiches with macaroni salad, bread-and-butter pickles, and chips. It really hit the spot.

  The beach was nice today. It wasn’t very crowded. I kind of like it like this. We might have to aim for this time of year more often. While 4th of July is certainly an exciting environment, I think I’d prefer this more laid back, relaxed setting compared to the go, go, go rush of Independence Day.

  Wait…something is going on down on the beach. There is a group of people standing around a spot where they’d set up their beach blankets and umbrellas a few hours ago. I remembered seeing them when we were out there. It was a bunch of college-age kids – a collection of boys and girls, or should I loosely say “men” and women”.

  I wonder what happened – probably heat stroke or dehydration, that’s the usual. People who aren’t familiar with the beach environment are often unprepared for just how much they sweat. They’re in the water, having fun, not paying attention to drinking, or if they are drinking, it’s alcohol, not water.

  Gosh, some of those people down there on the beach are really going bananas. One of them is darting around like a chicken with its head cut off, waving his arms and shouting. It looks like several of the girls are on their phones. What the heck could be going on? They’re probably just being dumb college kids, but I think I’m going to go down there and see if they need help just in case.

  3:49 p.m.

  Well that was crazy! After I got done writing earlier, I decided to go down to the beach and check on the group of college kids to see what was going on. AJ wanted to come, but I told him to stay put since I had no idea whether the situation was dangerous or not. I mean, usually the college-age kids who come to the beach are just looking for a good time. Sure, they do dumb stuff, but it usually isn’t malicious. Still, I had no idea if drugs or girls might be involved, and in either of those instances, things can get out of hand quickly. Young guys can do crazy things when they’re drugged up or fighting over a woman, and if a weapon is available, it could be used.

  As I made my way onto the beach and over to the group of youngsters, I realized that none of those things were happening. Once I arrived, and broke through their jumble of frantic chatter to ask exactly what was happening, one tearful teen apprised me of the situation through choked sobs. She explained that they had been digging a huge pit in the sand. One of their friends, Jason, had been at the bottom of the pit digging a sort of offshoot tunnel. Several feet into his digging, the tunnel had collapsed and the pit had followed suit.

  I instantly wondered why these kids (at least six of them) were all standing there doing nothing other than crying or staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed in a situation that obviously required instant action. They seemed dumbfounded and waiting for someone to take up the lead, therefore, I did. Seeing the indentation in the beach where they had dug the pit that had consumed their friend, I grabbed one of the shovels they’d dropped as I yelled for someone to call 911, and began to dig. As soon as I started, several of the others followed suit, grabbing shovels if they were available, using hands if they weren’t.

  About five minutes into our digging, we could hear sirens approaching. Five minutes after that, all sorts of rescue personnel and other diggers – some of them from our own condo building (including Liz and AJ) – were on the beach to assist. I’d say that maybe five minutes after that (although it felt like a lot longer), we had the poor kid excavated and out of his sandy death trap. He was dazed, very sandy, and in shock, but otherwise (amazingly) appeared to be okay. Apparently, a small portion of the tunnel around his head had remained intact. This provided the youngster with just enough air to keep him alive until we had dug him out. The rescue personnel said that if we hadn’t started digging when we did, he would likely have suffocated.

  The EMTs hauled the kid off on a stretcher to an awaiting ambulance in the beach access parking lot. Several of his ‘friends’ – and I use the term loosely – left to accompany him to the hospital. Several others stayed behind and continued their beach revelry as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I guess that’s life as a 20-year-old. Invincible, infallible, and untouchable, at least until they’re buried under two tons of sand.

  Liz and AJ are saying that I’m a hero. I told them that I just did what made sense, and I couldn’t believe that no one else was trying to dig the poor guy out before I got there. I mean, Jesus, what the hell kind of friends are those to just stand around like a herd of idiots while their friend lies buried beneath them? I just don’t get it. But hey, at least we got him out. It could have been worse, MUCH worse.

  And now it’s shower time for all of us. I want to go first so I can have a drink before we go down to happy hour. I NEED a drink after all that frantic digging!

  8:49 p.m.

  Man I’m pooped! Happy hour was a blast. Everyone wanted to “buy” me a drink for my efforts digging the kid out of his sand trap this afternoon. It was fun. I don’t think I’ve ever received so much attention for a good deed. And while I’m not one who usually loves having attention lavished upon him, it felt really good to have everyone showing their appreciation for what I did.

  After happy hour, we came upstairs for dinner, but I didn’t feel like cooking. Therefore, Liz offered to go pick up some fast food. We’ve been enjoying dinners at home or at our regular restaurants thus far, so some terrible takeout sounded just right…and super easy after the day I had. Therefore, Liz and AJ picked up burgers, fries, chicken nuggets, and milkshakes for the family. Healthy? No. Delicious? Hell yeah! They really hit the spot! We watched one of the Jurassic Park movies on television. I don’t remember which one it was (they all kind of blend together). But it made for good fun while we ate our junk food.

  And now I’m pooped and ready for an early night-night.

  August 31st

  9:49 a.m.

  So much for my early bedtime for a night of much-needed rest. Liz and I awoke to the sounds of shouting outside our bedroom window last night at around midnight. At first, I was willing to let it go. I mean, it’s part of beach life, especially when your condo sits near a beach access parking lot. But after almost a half hour of dozing through obscenity-laced yelling back and forth, I was forced from my comfortable bed. I really didn’t want to be an asshole, but enough is enough. Therefore, I headed out to the balcony to give the dim-rods a chance to shut up before I called the police. And I did so very nicely. Or at least I thought so. A simple request to take their dispute elsewhere should not have been met with a half-full beer can chucked at me that narrowly missed my head. Still, I kept my composure, and I made another, shorter request that they simply quiet down. This was met with a lengthy and profanity-ridden tirade. I don’t think I’ve ever heard myself referred to by so many nasty names in such a short time. It probably filled an entire year’s worth of Chicago commute road rage rants all in just one minute. But that’s okay. The two dudes, and the one gal they were fighting over, seemed to have similar sentiments regarding a pair of Cocoa Beach’s finest when they show
ed up about five minutes after I phoned them.

  After I disposed of the beer can thrown onto our balcony, and rinsed a splash of beer off my foot, it took me about an hour to fall back to sleep, and once I did, it was a restless sleep.

  Therefore, we slept in this morning and are off to a somewhat late start. I think I’ll forgo the activity on the beach today and try to sneak in a nap, basking in the sun. Of course, I’ve said that before, and once we get out there, sun and fun have me throwing the football with AJ, digging in the sand with him and the girls, or just playing in the surf. The options at the ocean are just too great to ignore. Maybe I’ll take a fishing pole, some bait I have in the freezer, and my tackle box out with me just in case I get motivated. I’m not counting on it, but if I’m up for any sort of beach activity today, I think it would be fishing.

  1:37 p.m.

  Well, fishing was a bust, but the nap I was hoping for came to fruition. It was amazing! There is something about falling asleep on the beach – the warmth, the soothing sound of the surf, the sand like a warm security blanket. It was probably one of the best naps, if not THE best nap I’ve ever had. I just let the stress melt away, like suntan lotion dripping off me. Wonderful!

  Now it’s time for lunch, some reading, some people watching (hopefully I won’t have to dig anyone out of a sand grave today), and maybe a walk before happy hour.

  4 p.m.

  We’re making pina coladas for happy hour. I’m getting the fixings ready now. We’re going to take a big batch down to the clubhouse for whoever wants to partake. Tomorrow we might do margaritas.

  7:39 p.m.

  One thing I’ve noticed is that while I’ve been writing the dates down in this journal, I haven’t been writing the actual days of the week. It doesn’t matter. And I’m not going back and adding them now. I think that my faux pas is fitting considering the setting. Everyday feels like a Saturday down here, so it doesn’t really make a difference. All our friends at the condo are retired, and we aren’t working, so why bother noting the days when they’re all so alike?

  On other fronts, dinner tonight was leftovers. We had a variety of stuff to finish. There was still some breakfast from Crabby Jacks, there was pizza, and we still had a few barbecue chicken breasts and french fries. We want to clear out some room in the fridge since Liz is going to hit the store again tomorrow. We’re going to load up on enough stuff to get us through the rest of the stay. We never worry about buying too much. Since we drive here, we can just pack up any extras and haul them back with us or give them to our regular resident friends. They more than reciprocate by lavishing us with leftovers and treats while we’re here.

  Speaking of which, our pina colada happy hour was a whopping success, and everyone is looking forward to margaritas tomorrow.

  Gerald and Maggie brought cheese and crackers. Catherine and the girls brought down cupcakes they’d made this afternoon. And Dan and Angie brought chips and dip they wanted to get rid of. Who needs dinner when you have happy hour?

  The only down side to our festive atmosphere was that there was a lot of Su flu chatter. I guess this thing is really getting bad. We’ve tried tuning it out over the past few days, but it just isn’t working, and I’m afraid that it’s now time to start paying attention. From what people were saying, the flu sounds like it’s really starting to spread.

  Ed and Ira Levine said they were watching various news networks all day (not that that’s out of the ordinary for them), and that there were reports of Su flu popping up in cities across the nation and around the world. They said that many of the events planned for Labor Day weekend were being postponed or cancelled altogether. They explained that people are afraid to travel and cancellations with hotels and airlines are really starting to pile up.

  The optimist in me hopes that this means that traffic on the highways will be light on our return home. The pessimist prays that I have a job at the hotel to return to. If too many people start canceling reservations, it could mean trouble for not just my hotel but the industry as a whole. I remember how bad things got after September 11th. That was the first time, actually the ONLY time, I ever got laid off. Thankfully, back then, Liz was still working, so her paycheck could carry us for a few months while I found another job. But now it’s a whole different story. Now we have a house, we have a vacation home, we have AJ, and Liz isn’t working. That means that if something happens and I lose my job and can’t find another one quick, we could be up crap creek big time.

  But I can’t let these thoughts get me down. I’m putting the cart before the horse. We just have to see where this flu thing leads and hope for the best.

  For now, I’m going to make us some popcorn while Liz and AJ decide on a movie to watch so we can enjoy what’s left of our vacation. Hopefully with the new month comes some good news regarding a fix for this flu.

  September 1st

  8:58 a.m.

  We ate at Crabby Jack’s again this morning. While it wasn’t that crowded the other day, today, hardly anyone was there.

  At first, I figured that it was because most of the tourist crowd had already headed home to prepare for work and school. Then I made the mistake of buying a morning newspaper from the box outside the restaurant. It was plastered with headlines about the flu. Even the sports page was littered with flu-related stories, mostly about games being postponed due to low turnout since people don’t want to be crowded together in stadiums that are like giant soup tureens teaming with bacteria. I can’t say that I blame them, but it wasn’t something I particularly wanted to read about during our breakfast in a public place. Every snuff, sniffle, snort or sneeze from a server, cook, or fellow diner had my stomach churning with worry that they might have the flu.

  I guess this thing is worse than I thought. The newspaper’s headline story was about steps the surrounding areas are taking to try to keep the spread of the flu to a minimum. I guess they’re putting out mobile hand sanitizing stations at all the major stores, government offices, libraries, post offices, and the likes. And they’re offering free pickup of similar stations or pump bottles for smaller area retailers. There are also small bottles available free to residents, but complimentary face masks won’t be available until next week since orders were backlogged due to high demand.

  Reading the paper kind of took the fun out of our meal and had us eating faster than we would have otherwise (although we WERE pretty hungry). I’m beginning to wonder if we shouldn’t start paying more attention to this flu thing. At first, I thought the media was just blowing the whole thing out of proportion (I still kind of do in a way). But it might be worthwhile to at least start watching the news more regularly.

  For now, we’re going to try to forget our troubles on the beach for at least a few hours. The girls are already out there and AJ is itching to get his morning boogie board time in. He always gets like this around the mid-point of our stay. He starts getting all worried about going home again. He’ll ask about or reconfirm when we’re leaving, press to stay longer, count down the days until we leave – that sort of stuff.

  I was the same way when I was a kid. It’s hard to live for the moment when you’re that age. Hell, it’s hard to live for the moment at ANY age I guess.

  3:10 p.m.

  We went to the beach to get away from our problems, and what happens? AJ gets zapped by a jelly fish! It got him on his right calf. First time it’s ever happened.

  I offered to pee on it, more as an act of levity, an offer that AJ instantly declined. The wound isn’t horrible, mostly just red and painful, but AJ said it really hurts and it has kind of freaked him out. The girls were probably of most comfort to him. They told him that they’d both been stung before, and much like a bee sting, it will go away soon enough. But for now, AJ says he’s forgoing the ocean for the rest of his stay. Yeah right, we’ll see. I’ll bet you anything he won’t be able to resist and will be back in the water by tomorrow morning.

  For this afternoon, AJ is going to make up for his missed wate
r time this morning by hitting the pool. The girls said they’d be there…of course. Those girls could be mermaids they’re in the water so much. They’d just better watch out for skin cancer when they get older. And while their skin is beautifully unblemished now, they’ll start looking like crumpled brown paper bags when they hit sixty if they’re not careful.

  7:48 p.m.

  Well that was kind of a downer. Happy hour wasn’t so happy tonight. It was all flu talk. I’m glad AJ and the girls were out swimming so they didn’t have to listen to it.

  Ed and Ira Levine said that they’d talked to some friends back in New York and they had said the place was going bananas. Store shelves were almost empty in many instances, and people were looting the ones with remaining goods.

  Ruth Benson, the little old lady on our floor who lives by herself, was saying that she had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for today. The appointment was cancelled, though, because the hospital here in Cocoa Beach was too busy dealing with flu cases.

  John and June Reynolds, also on our floor, said they had loaded up on extra supplies too. John (the condo board president) said that anyone picking up extra stuff at the store in the next day or so could use the clubhouse refrigerator for items they might not have room for in their own unit’s refrigerator. He told us just to make sure we labeled the items with a permanent marker to keep confusion to a minimum.

 

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