Entry 2

Happy Friday the 13th! Perfect day to watch a scary movie. I am hankering a good campy zombie flick.
All classes have been canceled for today! Yes! I only wish they told me before I woke up at the ass crack of dawn. As it turns out, half the campus is sick with this flu. It looks like this flu has spread not only throughout our little campus, but throughout north Georgia. My searches on Google didn’t bring up much. Basically, the scientists haven’t figured out what it is, but it appears to be something like the swine flu and the bird flu. It could be the hippopotamus flu for all I care. I’m just happy not to have to go to class.

I decided now would be the perfect time to catch up on the campus gossip, but I couldn’t get a hold of anyone. Just got voicemail after voicemail. If I find out my friends have been avoiding my calls, I am going to be pissed. So, as a last resort, I called my folks. I knew they wouldn’t screen my call. Depressing? Tell me about it.

I was just chatting with my dad when an urgent email from the college hit my inbox. It was from the college and addressed to all of the students. Everyone who is sick or has been in physical contact with one of the sick must report to the dining hall immediately. The CDC had sent specialists to treat those who are infected and those who may become infected. My father noticed the silence on the line and asked what was wrong. I read him the email.

“It looks like you have been demoted from student to human guinea pig. Congratulations.”

“Nice, Dad. Thanks. Do you think I should go? I mean, I kiss Ben…”

“Whoa…”

“Relax, I only kissed him on the forehead. So I guess I should go to the dining hall like they said.”

“No!” My father shouted.

“I wonder if the CDC can make me a new ear drum. What’s the deal?”

“I know you don’t believe in my ‘conspiracy theories’ as you call them, but do not follow their direction. You are to stay in your dorm. If anyone asks you, you didn’t see Ben or anyone else for that matter. You have been locked up in your dorm for the past week studying.”

“Aw, come on, Dad! No one is going to believe that!”

“I don’t care. You listen to me. Do not go anywhere near that place. Is your post office on campus still open?”

“Is it a national holiday? Come rain or sleet or epic plague of the flu, that post office is always open.”

“Good, your mother and I sent you a few supplies to get you through. We sent it next day air so it should be there. After you pick up the packages, I want you to stay in your dorm room. Call me tomorrow morning on the CB to give me an update.” (He gave me a handheld CB the day I left for college for emergencies. Trust me, it was a step up from the huge monster of a CB I had as a kid.)

“Sure, whatever.” I rolled my eyes. He hated that. Lucky for me, he couldn’t see me through the phone.

“I’m serious about this, Stephanie. Just do this for me, please? Give an old man some peace knowing his daughter is safe.” Something in his voice made me a little frightened. I don’t know what it was, but something inside my head said I should listen to him. Great, now I am schizophrenic.

“Okay, Dad. I promise. I am going to the post office now. I’ll radio you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Steph. I love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

I went to the post office and picked up the packages Dad sent me. He failed to mention there were about 25 huge boxes in total. I had to take several trips in my car to get everything to my dorm, but I eventually had everything unloaded. I tell you, that keypad entry was a huge pain when you are carrying a box weighing a thousand pounds. Okay, I am exaggerating a little, but not much!

So this is what the boxes contained:

A ton of water purification tablets

10 boxes of water bottles full of water

Canned veggies, fruits, and beans (the magical fruit…*wink*)

Spam (Uh, EW!)

The biggest box of tampons I have ever seen

The biggest box of pads I have ever seen

A hot plate rigged to take batteries

One huge box filled with batteries

A machete (Really? I don’t plan to go vacationing in the jungle anytime soon)

A culinary-grade knife sharpener (Matches the machete)

A couple of cups, plates, bowls, and utensils

A pot

A “Homer” bucket (Thank you, Home Depot)

Bleach

A box full of medical supplies

Washing stuffs

Personal toiletries

Toilet paper… A lot of toilet paper

And finally, a disassembled hunting rifle with enough ammo to supply the Army

I immediately texted my dad. “A little overboard, you think?”

He texted back, “It is enough to last you a few months. Old Homer is in case the plumbing gives out.”

I replied, “How did you get the ammo and rifle parts past the Post Master General?”

He responded, “I have my ways.”

My crazy dad. Gotta love him. He has been preparing for the nuclear fall out since before I was born. During the day, he is a mild-mannered trucker. At night, he transforms into the ultimate survivor, prepared for any disaster, natural or man-made. I’m not exaggerating either. He built an underground fall out shelter underground filled with enough supplies to last my family years without having to come to the surface. He has been retired for a couple of years now. Since his retirement, he spent every waking hour working on scenarios and survival plans. I just hope his dementia doesn’t run in the family.

 (What my dorm room looked like after I opened the "gifts" from my oh so thoughtful dad.)

Ben is calling me on my cell now. I better take it. See you later, everyone.