Last Day on Earth

All Hype No Right

Several months after COVID-19 arrived at America's doorstep, shit just got real, at least initially. There was a panic buy where essential items were virtually cleared out, leaving shelves barren from all the stores: cleaning products; hand sanitizer; toilet paper; and rice were gone before other consumers had a chance to purchase. While some people selfishly hoarded supplies, others capitalized on the pandemic and sought to make an easy buck online, infuriating the masses. People get disgruntled, making death threats when they can't wipe their ass.

Despite the pandemonium, there was a major discrepancy that had not unfolded according to predictions from the media and healthcare professionals. Where were the shipping containers stock piled with corpses? There were no overfilled hospital beds with every single room occupied.

In fact, per household, no one knew of a family member with the virus—at first. Then, the numbers started to increase. My uncle was the first in our family who contracted the Coronavirus. Still, there was a higher than anticipated mortality rate from this supposedly incurable virus. Where was this so-called first wave of devastation the CDC predicted, warranting a lockdown?

Restrictions were being lifted in the County parks. Hawaii was still on lockdown, meaning there was a strict travel policy to and from the mainland, but the island was slowly opening up. The smaller businesses just couldn't thrive without the tourism industry, so something had to be done, especially when business-after-business fell victim to bankruptcy.

With the ever evolving Public Health Emergency Rules, or PHER still in place at the parks, our division continued work as usual, enforcing these ridiculous rules with an iron fist. Essentially, the Park Enforcement Officers were henchmen employed by County officials. Suffice it to say, there was substantial pushback from the public.

"You were scammed, buddy!"

"What?!" I barked.

"You bought into that scam, right?" said Stu, snickering at me, adding, "Told you so. You didn't listen, though."

"It wasn't a scam—my uncle has it, and he's fighting for his life," I spat, clenching both fists.

"How old is your un—"

"—It doesn't fucking matter, does it?" I interrupted, barking in Stu's direction.

He knew he hit a nerve, and he was lucky this conversation wasn't taking place in a bar.

"Look—relax," said Stu, bringing his volume down, taking a pause, allowing the tension to dissipate between us. "We're all tense these days, but it's what the Government wants, though. They're stripping away our freedom, our Constitutional Rights, and they're going to get their way, too."

Stu was frustrated with the Government, so it made sense to talk badly about a corrupt system with a blemished history. However, this made him a hypocrite, especially when he accepted a check for three thousand a month every month and free medical from Uncle Sam for the rest of his life due to injuries acquired during his military career.

"Where are you reading this garbage from, man?"

"I hope you didn't get the Jab."

"In a few weeks, it makes six months since my last shot, so I have an appointment at the War Memorial Gymnasium—you should consider it. There's going to be some hot nurses from the mainland administering the vaccination," I said, releasing the tension in my grip as I exhaled.

"Not on your life, man!" exclaimed Stu, posturing upright. "You really fucked up, dude—shouldn't have taken the Jab?!"

"I have to because if I don't, I'll have to get tested every week, which is bull shit."