I made a mad dash to every pharmacy that was in close proximity and came home with multiple boxes of pain killers, cough syrups, cold and flu tablets… everything I could get my greedy little hands on. I had masks, hand sanitizer, disinfecting wipes and sprays, and whatever toilet tissue I was allowed to buy from every store in the city. I would go out for food tomorrow. Then I went home and locked myself inside my apartment. I would be safe here… perhaps… would I really?… maybe not… and I began to obsess about survival. What was my best chance of surviving?
Well, it didn’t take me long to decide that another “retreat” was in order, perhaps a much longer one this time. And I knew just where to go – the little cottage Aunt Tilly had left me in some backwoods little place called Second Eden. That was seven years ago and, although I had never been there, it had to be a better situation than the city was at present. Aunt Tilly had said that there was one street with small cottages lined along both sides, basically a retirement community I figured, perhaps even seasonal.
The nearest town to shop for supplies was an hour’s drive away so people usually made one monthly trip, she had told me. Each cottage had its own well and septic system. There was electricity back then and I prayed there still was. And I hoped to God they had phone and Internet services! Continuing my work was the only thing that would keep me from going insane. I wrote several weekly columns for online newspapers and magazines… a hand-to-mouth existence but I got by.
So, I packed all my clothing and threw it in the truck. I had not been looking for a double cab when I bought it… and I knew it would be a gas guzzler… but the bargain had been too good to pass up. Now, I appreciated the extra space. Next I added a couple of boxes with all the cooking gear and dishes I possessed… a pitifully small collection for ten years of living on my own. I had never been to the cottage and had no idea what was there or what I would need. The place could be just an empty shell for all I knew… might be a good idea to take the sleeping bag too. Come to think of it, I’d take everything I owned because, if this panned out, I might decide to stay there.
The apartment had come furnished and the only stick of furniture I owned was a small desk. I doubted Aunt Tilly had a desk up there so I took it apart and stacked the pieces in the floor space behind the front seat. Linens were stuffed into a large garbage bag which I then squeezed in between the floor and dashboard on the passenger side. The backpack with my laptop occupied the front passenger seat. Lastly, I put the toilet tissue and cleaning supplies in the back seat. Maybe I was paranoid but I pulled a quilt from the bag of bedding and covered all this… just in case… temptation could be a powerful force.
