6. Camp Covid Epilogue

So, This Is How It All Ends

Catch up on the rest of the story and read the tales of 'Camp COVID' in order: 1. Alive and Well at Camp Covid 2. Adventures at Camp Covid 3. Life and Times at Camp Covid 4. Enlightened at Camp Covid 5. Leaving Camp Covid 6. Camp Covid Epilogue 7. Return to Camp Covid NEWS: Calgary Herald, Global News, CBC News

January 31, 2021 — Today is the last day of my quarantine. How does the check out process work? Is there a check process, or is it something else altogether? How much has the world changed in these last 14 days? Would I need the 13 fruit cups, blueberry muffins, and sporks to thrive in this brave new world? So many questions.

The knock on the door came at 7AM like it did every morning of my stay, “Room Service!” they called out, followed by the tell tale sound of a box of food being placed by the door.

Did I hear them leave? Was it safe for me to open the door and drag one more box of sugar into my room? Or were they waiting for me just outside door with a net and tranquilizer gun? Or even more likely, a snare attached to the box which would be activated as soon as I tried to pull the box inside, and through a complicated series of pulleys and rope would have me suspended upside down — the box just out of reach — which is exactly when they would hit me with the tranquilizer darts, drop me into a sack, and then take me far away from downtown so I couldn’t find my way back — a tag attached to my ear with the number 711 and a faded Ramada logo. Better that scenario than a leg-hold trap.

I’ve found it’s sometimes best to have a cup of coffee and wait to see how things play out. I was in no hurry to open the door, and wasn’t about to play into their hands. It’s a waiting game. Fools, I just spent the last 14 days perfecting the fine art of patience.

Fools, I just spent the last 14 days perfecting the fine art of patience. 

But wait. Was that the ‘snick-clack’ of a magazine full of knock-out cartridges being loaded into a rifle? A muffled static-chirp from a radio? There! The sound of ballistic nylon scraping the walls followed by the slow and steadying breathing of an elite tactical team poised and ready just out of sight?

I sipped my coffee and considered my options. 

Today was the last day of my ‘Official Quarantine’ as mandated by the Alberta Government and Alberta Health. By the time this day came I had been living in a hotel room for 14 days, my studio for six days, and I have not seen another human in all that time, save for the office friends across the alley, the ‘Crack Gang’ in the alley below me, and a couple of ZOOM calls with friends and colleagues.

When is checkout time? What time can I leave? I drank my coffee while packing my 'Go Bag' full of rations. Daryl, sighed; Dolores, chortled; Uncle Gout was yelling slurs at the toes on my other foot; But Brad just sat there in the corner — I think he was nervous about his upcoming surgery so I plugged him in to brighten his day a little. “It’s okay, Brad” adjusting his base slightly so the seam of his lamp shade was towards the wall. “I’m sure it won’t hurt a bit, and before you know it you’ll be as good as new.”

Daryl, sighed; Dolores, chortled; Uncle Gout was yelling slurs at the toes on my other foot

Brad glowed a little brighter at that thought. 

A final gulp of coffee and then I set to packing my bags and preparing for my departure. I decided that 11AM was a reasonable time to wait for the elite ‘Dropbear Relocation Team’ to get bored and leave the hallway. Surely they must have other guests to trap and release. Maybe I could sneak out during the shift change.

I woke up in a chair of ‘The Urban Shave’ my favourite barber shop. My buddy Fadi humming a blues riff while he whisked some shaving cream into a hot foam in preparation for the first haircut and hot shave I’ve had in months. In my right hand was a fresh latte from ‘The Roasterie’ across the street — I could see Patricie, the coolest barista on the planet, at the window waving to me. I guess I made it. The outside world.

Here’s what really happened.

January 31, 2021, 1100 Hours — Through consultation with the CDC, the COVID+ Team, the Government of Alberta, and several nurses from Alberta Health Services it has been deemed safe for me to return home.

It was a long and eerie walk down the empty hallways of the Ramada Plaza Hotel. It was quiet and unsettling. It felt weird to be outside of my room. But here I was stepping onto an elevator and headed down. There was a "BING!" the doors opened, sunlight streamed in, and I stepped out into the lobby and over to the front desk. I slid my hotel key across the desk, “checking out?” the guy at the Front Desk asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “I’m finally free.”

“Oh, were you in quarantine?”

“I was. Room 711.” I replied.

“Welcome back,” he smiled, “I hope you have a great week.”

And that was it. There was nothing to sign. No formalities. Just a simple, “Welcome back” and out into the world I went. As I left the hotel onto 8th Avenue my son pulled up in his jeep, scooped me up and drove me directly to my studio at cSPACE King Edward so I could get some work done that couldn’t be done on my laptop. Later that day I returned home to see Jenn and resume life.

February 1, 2021 — Monday morning I made an appointment to see my man, Fadi at ‘The Urban Shave’ to get my mohawk sorted out, and afterwards went across the street to see the gang at ‘The Roasterie’ and get myself a much deserved and needed latte. And that was that, life has returned to 'COVID normal', whatever that is. It's a day-to-day existence.

I’ve got some fun projects coming up from commercials to direct, to podcasts to produce and host, to books to write, and a new series to get back to developing for ‘Dropbear and Panda’, not to mention workshops to hold so at some point we can buy some land and build a container home in Costa Rica — a home for the apocalypse.