The Quest for Paradise

Dinner passed on uneventfully as father really had little to say to me even during the best of times and we'd already conversed more intimately than we had in many years.

We were in the parking lot and headed for our respective vehicles when my father called out, "You're sure this won't be a scheduling hassle for you? I mean up and leaving from work like this."

I shook my head no, "Classes let out over a week ago and I didn't have anything scheduled trip wise for the first month of summer anyway."

He'd interrupted my brainstorming session as to what to pack for the expedition and more importantly how to pack it all. But his question did provoke an alarming one of my own, "How long are we going to be gone?"

He shrugged expressively, "Who knows. It's the government."

Suddenly locked up with tension I asked, "How am I supposed to pay my bills such as my apartment rent while I'm gone?"

He held a hand to his ear and seemed to listen. I was on the verge of stepping closer and repeating my question, when he called out, "Your first month's salary has already been transferred into your account. It's immediately available. A car will be by to pick you up on Monday and you're to bring just one bag with you."

I stared at my father in amazement. The government was still directly listing in on all this!

How could this not be as alarming to my father as it was to me? He waved at me benignly before hopping into his convertible and tearing out of the parking lot soon thereafter.

I however continued to stand there in the parking lot. Dimly I heard the buzz of overhead bug clouds dancing in worship to the parking lot lights. My hand itched to make its way to my purse and check my phone, but I fought the urge off.

Not a safe thing to do in a parking lot. I hurried on to my car and once there with the doors locked I couldn't refrain myself from waiting any longer.

Pulling my phone out I engaged the Google app and had to wait the customary length of time for my old phone to crunch ones and zeros in order to do something basic for me. Finally I got to my banking hub and punched in my password and all the ridiculous other hoops they make one jump through.

"Come on. Come on." I repeated, as the screen loaded and then I screamed.

I looked around the car hurriedly to see if anyone had heard my scream. The coast was clear and so I let my eyes track back over to the five figure deposit number.