It's 2 a.m., regardless of what my permalink timestamp says. Gotta fix that. Should be sleeping, but been cleaning instead.
I didn't expect to see him, walking through the front door like he owned the place. Then what? Fast and fat, the size of an egg, I'm telling you! I have never seen a damn bug this big. I've lived here for nearly 10 years (has it been that long?) and this is the biggest insect I've ever ever seen, period. He's walking across MY threshold, padding across the wood floor to the kitchen, completely oblivious to me or any rules of the house, one of which is, NO STINKING ROACHES!
They call them palmetto bugs here because the idea that a roach can grow this big, well, it's the thing nightmares are made of. They can easily carry a small child away.
You probably know by now that I hate bugs. They give me the deep-down willies. Bugs ate my father's dead body, or so I assume since I never actually checked, and one day they will eat me, and I'd rather not give them a head start.
So I stay away from them. If I see one inside, I shiver, and then kill it. Zen not spoken here--bugs be gone. Things that chew on decomposing flesh and leaves and year-old pieces of food shouldn't really be afraid to die anyway.
Jenna's asleep. I have no choice. I have to kill the thing. He's moving fast now. I have to hurry. I swin open the closet door and grab one of Jenna's shoes. I chase after him. He heads down the basement stairs and I swear I saw him hold the railing on his way down.
Don't miss a step motherfucker--I've got my eye on your hairy wings.
I get half way down the basment steps, quick on his trail, and he comes to a complete stop. I wait for his backup lights to start flashing. Nothing. Now's my chance. But I'm on the step above him. A miscalculation could send me tumbling head over ass, or I could miss Mr. Thang altogether, in which case he eats me on the spot.
HELP!
No one.
I shove my toes and the ball of my foot into Jenna's shoe and raise my leg, bring the shoe down hard on his spiney back.
Now, all roaches crunch. But THIS guy, OH MAN! He didn't crunch, he rumbled--no lie--it was like surround sound. Caaaarrrruuuunnnncccchhhh-kkkkiiiirrrcccchhhh--sssslllllrrrrrccccchhhh.
I felt it in my shins.
There I am, standing one footed in the middle of the basement stairway, bearing down as hard as I can. There he is, squished under the sole of my too-small shoe.
I gotta complete.
I lift my foot up and look. I am immediately impressed by his wing-span, emphasized by his newly-gained one-dimensional status. I think about calling a farmer with a backhoe to come burry this horse-bug.
Then I figure, I've gone this far on my own; I can finish the job.
I grab a paper towel, carefully climbing down to the step below him so I can scoop up his remains. My muscles are relaxing, the worst is over. I'm considering which part of him to grab first when he MOVES! HE MOVES! I tell you, he's FLAT, and it doesn't matter, because he starts edging his gutless remains toward the edge of the step, toward ME.
AAAAHHHHH!!!
I leap down two stairs to the landing and look up.
So this is how it's all going to end. Jenna, I'm sorry. The giant bug ate me next to your drum set. Know that mommy loves you. Tell Daddy to bring some Raid home with him.
Too bewildered to think about the shoe, which is still on my foot, I grab an old amazon box heavy with packing material and I-don't-know-what-else, raise it high, and slam it down on him.
Silence.
Lift.
Ugh. Gross.
No more huntin' for that dawg.
Paper towel still in hand, bitter bile rising from my stomach, I mop him up and go to toss him in the garbage, forgetting that the kitchen garbage can is NOT under the sink because I've been using it to toss away old toys in the living room, and so he lands on the floor with a crinkle-thud, and I have to pick him up again--just what I wanted to do.
I dispose of him in all of his (I hope) deadness, take off Jenna's shoe and put it under something so I don't have to look at it, think about what the bottom must look like.
If this thunder and lightshow would ever stop, I think I'm ready to go to sleep and dream about fluffy happy clouds and bugless blue skies.
