A BUCKET OF BATS

After 200 miles on the road with Madchen & Schatzie protesting being kenneled, I was ready for the Jacuzzi, pool and a nice dinner at the motel. My grandpa said to eat dessert first. Child-like I giggled over German chocolate cake with coconut frosting, a wee piece of snickers cheesecake, a taste of cannoli, and something white and gooey with coconut, pecans and a hint of rum. Delightful! My second course was three green beans, a variety of other cooked veggies and one small barbecued rib.

Cats settled in for the night, I walked around the parking lot talking on the phone. I forgot I was in a protected wetland. The only enemy the mosquitoes have here is bats, and bats need water. Just over the levy is the Mississippi River―plenty of water. Pausing on the patio was a mistake. Mosquitoes didn’t have to chase me, they just moved in and feasted on my ankles. Where’s a bat when you need one?

When I worked for Galen & nellie in downtown Omaha, their brick building was over 100 years old. Mortar had disintegrated around the windows allowing bats and breezes easy entrance and exit. Do breezes exit? On the phone one day, I looked down and saw a bat on the top of my foot. “OH!” I don’t know how long it had been there; it didn’t feel like anything. Was it hovering? My "Ohs" grew progressively louder until I noticed a peanut butter bucket on top of the file. The lady on the phone kept talking. I tilted my foot. The bat jumped off, did its clicking sonar sound and climbed up the brick wall. Lady is still yacking. I laid the phone down, grabbed the bucket, scooped the bat in with the lid and clamped it down. Big-eyed co-workers gathered to see what my “Oh’s” were about. I didn’t explain, just slipped outside and turned it loose. It wouldn’t surprise me if the bat was back in the building before I was. I picked up the phone, and she was still talking, oblivious to what had happened.

Tonight I wish I had a bucket of bats.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series