The Dystopian Diaries

by K. W. Callahan

  We’ll just have to keep a good eye on expiration dates to ensure that we’re using our supplies efficiently.

  Hold on, AJ is at the balcony door calling for me to come outside.

  11:59 a.m.

  That was interesting. I just came back inside from where AJ had beckoned me out to the balcony. I made it outside just in time to see a huge air armada of helicopters go by. We watched until they disappeared from sight heading north along the coastline. I have no idea where they were going, why, or who was onboard. It was a fleet of at least a dozen helicopters that included some attack choppers and some larger transports. They were flying in formation, the attack helicopters around the perimeter of the flotilla, the bigger, bulkier transports inside. My gut tells me it was the head honchos beating it the hell out of Dodge. But to where? I wish I knew, because we might try to follow them. But I guess that’s the whole point. The big wigs get to live in their secure bunkers during these types of scenarios while the peons get to eat dirt and like it, right?

  It definitely leaves me with a bad feeling in my gut. If the roosters are fleeing the coop, who is left to protect us hens from the foxes?

  I guess us hens better get ourselves together and realize that we’re likely on our own from here on out.

  2:42 p.m.

  The news – what remains of it at least – is dire. Cities nationwide are boiling pots of confusion, anarchy and pandemonium. It’s literally bedlam everywhere. This is sheer madness! I just can’t believe the government wasn’t better prepared. All the money it had at its disposal and nothing better than a non-response could be achieved? It’s pretty pathetic if you ask me. I understand that this thing came on quick, but I’ve seen shows about all the money that has been spent on planning and response efforts for a lengthy list of emergency scenarios – everything from massive storms to nuclear Armageddon. And yet, here we are, the world falling apart around us and apparently no one to do anything about it.

  I don’t want to lose hope. Maybe that’s where those helicopters were going, to some secret meeting with other officials to help organize a response or relief effort. I can only pray. But another side of me is more grounded in reality. If the government had something up their sleeve, wouldn’t they have sprung it by now?

  I’ve also seen shows about just how tenuous our (and by “our” I mean humanity) situation is here on this planet. From asteroids and climate change, to solar flares and yes, a pandemic, the human race is just one misstep from calamity. And it looks like this time we’ve put an errant foot right in it.

  Today, the family watched the news together. I think it’s time (unfortunately) to open AJ’s eyes to the reality of what is going on. At this point, he needs to know. He has a right to know. I can only protect him from this in so many ways, and I’m afraid that with the way things are going, the less he knows, the more danger he’s apt to put himself in. At times, ignorance is bliss, but ignorance in the case of the Su flu can be extremely dangerous.

  Chicago looks like a big flaming pile of crap right now. I’m so thankful we stayed here. For the first time maybe ever in our history of coming to Cocoa Beach, AJ asked when we were going home with more wistfulness than trepidation. I think he misses home and his friends. I didn’t have the heart to mention that a number of his friends might not be around when we get home. That will be something we’ll deal with when the time comes – something I’m definitely NOT looking forward to.

  I guess there could be worse things than being stuck in paradise during the end of days. At least we have the balcony and the beach to watch. Even without people on it, it provides a sense of tranquility that is much needed these days.

  Wait…it sounds like something is going on downstairs.

  4:01 p.m.

  God it’s hot out there! I’m not used to this sort of heat in September. I mean, we get heat in Chicago, even in September sometimes, but the Florida sun really does bake this place. Thank heaven for air conditioning! How people ever made it down here before that technological advancement, I’ll never know.

  Anyway, back to the disturbance that occurred downstairs while writing my last entry. I could hear some sort of banging going on. Therefore, I went out the front door which enters onto the open air hallway/balcony that skirts the inside perimeter of our horseshoe-shaped building. From my perch there, I could see a lone man downstairs on the ground level. He looked to be in his early-30s, and he was beating on one of the stairwell entry doors with a rock.

  I hailed him from my position on the balcony, asking him what all the commotion was about. He paused in his work. But after a brief, yet blunt and expletive-filled explanation that he was “trying to open the motherfuckin’ door,” he went back to work again.

  I halted his progress again moments later with a shouted “WHY?!”

  This time the guy gave me a more direct answer, “Because I motherfuckin’ WANT to!”

  This shouting back and forth must have drawn the attention of others, because several of our remaining residents exited their condos to see what was going on.

  By this point, the guy with the rock had given up on smashing open the stairwell door and had moved on to attempt the building’s elevator.

  Just about everyone except Angie and Dan, who live on the first floor and were probably hunkered down inside their condo in hopes of avoiding a confrontation with the enraged man, had come out to take in the excitement. The only other people I didn’t see were Catherine and the girls. I sure hope they’re okay.

  When people saw the dude working on trying to pry open the elevator door, more of them started hooting and hollering at him to stop. We kept telling him that he needed to leave and that the elevator was turned off so it didn’t matter if he managed to wrench the doors open.

  As I’ve mentioned previously, we go through an elevator repair at least once a year. Sometimes those repairs are more major than others, but ALL are costly. There have been times when the costs result in a special fee assessed to the residents of the condo building, which is never popular. So we make every effort to avoid such additional expenses.

  I guess that with everyone yelling at him, the guy finally got the message and left. But it was weird. What did he want? Why was he trying to get into the condo’s upper floors? Was he just in search of food or shelter?

  From my elevated spot on the fourth floor I watched him head out to our parking lot, cross A1A, and then make his way to Giuseppe’s Pizza Palace. I could see him hunting around in the flowerbeds in front of the restaurant, probably looking for a rock. I don’t think anyone is currently at Giuseppe’s, so he might have better luck getting inside. Poor Giuseppe’s. I bet that guy is going to ransack the place. Gosh I wish we had some of their pizza right about now.

  Anyway, this incident only reinforces that fact that we’re not untouchable here at the beach. Just because we’re outside the grasp of the major cities doesn’t mean people aren’t starting to get desperate around here. And the more desperate people become, the more danger we’re going to be in, especially with law enforcement apparently on the ropes.

  I think we need to have a meeting, and by “we” I mean not just my family, but the other condo residents too. While I know that everyone is hoping to avoid one another until the flu has passed, we should probably get together to discuss additional security measures that might be necessary to see us through to the end of this thing.

  7:39 p.m.

  It’s kind of weird; we’ve lost some of our cable channels. A lot of them are just black screens now. We’ve therefore taken to streaming more shows – movies, re-runs, shows we’ve been meaning to catch up on that we didn’t have time for back home. It’s actually kind of nice. Tonight, we’ll watch old episodes of “The Office” when AJ is awake, and after he goes to sleep, we’ll get to the last few seasons of “Game of Thrones” that we’re behind on. It’s a good way to take our mind off things.

  On other fronts, we’ve set up a resident meeting for tomorrow morning at the clubhouse. I just c
alled the residents who I knew were here rather than going door to door. I even got a hold of Catherine and the girls. Catherine said they may not attend the meeting since she’s worried about the spread of the flu. I don’t blame her in a way, but after seeing the dude trying to break in downstairs, I think that having a meeting is a pertinent thing to do. But it makes me feel better just knowing that she and the girls are okay. I can always call them after the meeting and let them know what we discussed and any conclusions we reached regarding the safety and well-being of our little community here.

  September 5th

  10:03 a.m.

  Our morning meeting didn’t go exactly as planned. Actually, I didn’t really have a “plan” in mind at all other than to open the floor to suggestions as to how to improve the building’s security for the remaining residents.

  After a breakfast of cold cereal, I went downstairs to await the other residents’ arrival to the clubhouse. I was kind of looking forward to seeing everyone. It has been a few days since our last get-together. Most everyone was there except for Catherine and the girls, Rich and Barb Janowski, and the flight attendant who no one has seen in over a week. John knocked on her door, but no one answered. We kind of figure she is probably stuck overseas somewhere or in another city here in the US and can’t make it back home.

  Once everyone got settled in the clubhouse, John called the meeting to order. Since I was the one who had organized the meeting, he then turned the floor over to me.

  I began by explaining my encounters with the homeless people at the pool, and then mentioned the man trying to smash his way into our building with the rock. I closed by voicing my concern regarding the building’s safety and hope for some ideas regarding further steps we could take to improve our overall security before opening the floor to questions, comments, and ideas.

  The feedback I got was not what I expected. The group (especially the condo association board of directors) seemed to kind of blow off my concerns. A few of them even seemed upset that I’d bother them with calling this meeting saying that having the doors locked, the elevator shut off, and staying indoors seemed to be working just fine so far. They said that if “people” (I’m assuming “me”) would just be patient and stay inside their condos, this flu thing would pass and we’d all be fine.

  The overall consensus seemed to be that the security procedures already taken were good enough. John even said, “What else are we supposed to do?”

  I responded that I wasn’t exactly sure, but that this exact question was the reason for the meeting.

  He responded coolly that considering no one appeared to have any further ideas on the subject the meeting was, in his opinion, a waste of time. He went on to say that by gathering ourselves together in close proximity, the meeting on safety was only putting us at greater risk.

  The meeting was therefore adjourned. I was left with the feeling that the board took my calling of such a meeting as an affront to their positions on the board or a challenge to their power or something. I couldn’t care less about such things in all honesty. I just want us all to be safe…that’s all.

  That type of attitude from the board is the one downside to condo living, and I’m not trying to sound rude here. But when the condo board has been the condo board for years (in some instances, decades), and it’s ruled by older people who are kind of stuck in their ways and not particularly eager to hear the opinions of the younger generations, it can be difficult to break through those hardened mindsets. I’m not saying that I’m right or wrong in my views, but it’s nice to at least FEEL as though I’ve been heard, which I don’t in this instance.

  Our board members, even though I love each and every one of them, are VERY set in their ways. This makes it difficult to get them to see the opinions and outlooks of others. All you can really do is plant the seeds of your thoughts and hope that they take root, eventually to grow into what these people see as their OWN ideas. But there’s no telling.

  I guess that for now, I’ll just have to be content to keep the doors locked and a watchful eye on things. I don’t particularly like the option, but I’m not sure what else I can do on my own. I wish the building had some sort of security monitoring system – cameras or an alarm or something. But wishing doesn’t change things.

  Better to be here than back home I guess. The news said that Chicago is experiencing rolling blackouts there now amidst all the looting, rioting, burning, piles of dead bodies, and pillaging. Sounds like a ton of fun – NOT! So glad we’re missing out on that!

  I haven’t heard from anyone at the hotel for days. I’ve sent repeated messages to several of our department heads as well as our general manager and director of operations. God only knows what’s going on up there. Guess I’ll be looking for a new job when I get home, either that or running the hotel by myself.

  God, how horrible this is. How many of our friends, co-workers, family will be left after all this is said and done? Liz never did reach her parents. I think she has begun to accept that it’s likely they’ve succumbed to the flu. It’s a horrible prospect, but it’s one we’ll likely have to come to terms with. She has tried contacting the police where they live, but her calls keep getting answered by an automated system asking callers to leave their contact information and a brief message. Liz left her information, but no one has gotten back to her as of yet.

  All this truly does feel like some sort of bad dream. I’m not quite sure how to process it. It just feels like we get further from reality with each passing day. It’s kind of like we’re in a lifeboat, and the rest of the world is an ocean liner that gradually fades in the distance little by little until it’s gone completely. Then we’re adrift in a situation none of us have ever experienced before. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t totally feel real yet. I can still see the ocean liner on the horizon; it’s just very, very small and getting smaller by the hour.

  2:02 p.m.

  The power just went off for a few minutes. It was kind of weird and worrisome, but it came back on, so I guess it’s no big deal. I just hope it’s not a precursor of things to come.

  I’m guessing that with all the labor shortages and staffing problems going on out there, someone at the power plant probably fell asleep at the wheel or was late for shift-change or something.

  It makes me think, though, what happens if the power goes off and stays off? It’s not really something I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about, but maybe I should start.

  4:08 p.m.

  The days have suddenly gotten much longer. Typically when we’re here, we fall into a regular routine and the days all kind of blend into one another. Then, we’re suddenly packing to go home. But this time, with the flu and its crazy effects penning us up inside so much, the days have suddenly slowed.

  While Liz and I are finding things to keep ourselves occupied – reading, writing, cleaning, and better organizing the condo (something we’re always telling ourselves should be done but something we never seem to find the time for), AJ seems dejected. Who can blame him? The poor kid is weathering this storm as best as can be expected. But even the greatest kids are eventually going to begin showing the signs of strain after being closed up inside for several days, especially when at the beach. He’s even bored of playing on the electronic devices we brought along if that tells you something about the severity of the situation.

  I feel horrible about the whole thing, but keeping him inside with us is the best way I know to keep him safe. I’m not sure exactly what else to do to help him stay occupied. We tried a few card games. They helped a little, but he quickly tired of them. We have a couple board games here from when he was little. But how many games of Candyland or Chutes and Ladders can you play with a 12-year-old before that gets old?

  I have an idea for tomorrow that might help him break this bout of cabin fever. Liz isn’t thrilled with it, but I’m not sure what else to do.

  September 6th

  7:57 a.m.

  That little excursion did not go at ALL how I ex
pected. I guess I should have known better, but AJ’s gloomy demeanor had me feeling like such a terrible father that I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I should have been.

  So here’s what happened.

  I woke up early this morning at just a little after six. As quietly as I could, so as not to wake Liz, I got dressed, made coffee, and fixed two bowls of cereal. Then I woke AJ. He dressed, and then ate his bowl of cereal, still not knowing my plan.

  After he finished, I pulled a small cooler full of bait from inside the refrigerator and told AJ to grab his fishing pole. He seemed to perk up at the idea of heading outside to do some fishing, which had me feeling better about things. There’s nothing quite like seeing your child happy because of something you’ve done. It just does something special to you inside, something almost indescribable.

  I told AJ as we were preparing to depart that it was like the old days, that we were the men heading out to see if we could catch dinner. I thought planting this idea would make him feel more important, “manlier” if you will – like a provider for the family.

  He seemed to like the idea and kept saying how he wished he could do this with me every day. This made me feel both good and bad – good that he wanted to spend quality time with me, bad that we don’t spend more such time together during the rest of the year. But I set those feelings of guilt aside as best I could to try to enjoy this particular moment with my boy, a boy who I keep reminding myself won’t be a “boy” much longer.

  So off we headed to the beach, which has been almost completely devoid of people for the last few days. It therefore seemed like a safe spot – relatively speaking – to try to get my son a little outdoor time but at the same time keep him away from any of those infected with the flu.