Germ A. Phobe Visits Retchville

Germ A. Phobe didn’t choose her name; it was given her by the residents of Retchville. They thought it strange that she didn’t care to embrace their heaving habits, and had chosen instead to move to the faraway town of Intelligence, along the Research River, settling down on Respect Avenue.

But it was lonely living in a place where people stayed home when they were sick. In Retchville, sick or not, everyone went to work every day at the Stamina and Strength factory. They found great pride in their ability to suck it up and spread the Joy of Retching. They’d sneeze, and then slap each other high-fives for being tough.

Germ shuddered at the memories of hands and sleeves swiping wet noses. But she missed them none-the-less—every one of Retchers: Wallace and Vomit, the Hurleys, and dear old Ralph Pukester. She’d never felt more alone, sitting by the hearth in the small House of Consideration.

One evening she looked out the window and saw the glittering lights of far-off Retchville. Maybe she’d go for a short visit. It wouldn’t hurt. She’d draw a hot, Purell bath when she returned, just to be safe. Germ packed her bag with only a few necessities, leaving her surgical mask and latex gloves in the drawer where she’d stored them when she first moved to Intelligence. After all, she wasn’t really Germ A. Phobe.

Germ was greeted by the pleasant sounds of dogs barfing when she arrived in Retchville. She knocked on Chuck’s door, and he opened it, hugging a toilet bowl.

“Hey everyone, look who’s here!” he called to the crowd of purgers partying behind him. There were cheers as everyone raised their buckets in celebration of Germ’s arrival.

Germ blushed at their warm welcome. Spew took her coat, and reached into a bag of chips, bare-handed, to fill a plate for Germ. It was enough to make her want to climb up Chuck’s wall. Germ politely declined the plate of chips and stuffed her hands in her pockets.

“How about a drink then?” Spew offered. He grabbed a cup by the rim and used his other hand to fill it with ice.

“No thanks,” Germ said. Maybe she’d made a mistake in coming. Could she ever acquire a taste for cookie tossing? They all had. Was she the only person left in the county of Common Sense who hadn’t embraced the Joy of Retching? Maybe they were right in naming her Germ A. Phobe. Maybe she should give in and heave a sigh of relief at finally being normal.

But she couldn’t do it. Germ grabbed her coat and headed out the door. Chuck ran after her. “Where are you going, Germ? The party is just getting started! You still have at least a *three-day opportunity to change your mind and join us!" Germ kept walking. "Farewell, healthy friend,” Chuck laughed sarcastically.

When Germ reached her house, she grabbed the sign on her door and turned it around. The other side read, “GermAware.” She smiled and went in for a long, hot bath—in water and rose-scented bubbles.

*According to the Mayo Clinic, the stomach flu is contagious for at least three days and up to two weeks after symptoms are gone.The incubation period for the virus can last up to three days, so if the bug is making its way through your family, you may already be infected without knowing it, and should exercise caution and consideration for others when mingling in public.