The White Country Boy and the Black City Girl - Part 2

Yesterday Seth, our County Boy, and Gene-Leigh, our Black City Girl Swirl couple was facing an awful dilemma: A BAT was flying around in their home!

Let's see how the County White boy handled up . . . . .

The Bat Chronicles - Part 2

Gene-Leigh continues,

At this point, my mind had slowly begun to unravel, and the descent into insanity had begun.

“OH GOD WHY???? WHAT THE HELL?” I grabbed my cell phone, and re-dialed the number to Animal Control.  Since it was after hours, I got an answering service.

“Hello? This is Sharon. How may I help you?” She sounded so sweet and nice.  But I knew even before I asked my question what the answer would be.

I swallowed. “Hi, I need to speak to someone from Animal Control,” I said twisting the cord of my phone charger around my fingers.

“I’m sorry, Animal Control is gone for the evening,” Sharon said in her sickeningly sweet tone.

I closed my eyes in defeat before whimpering thank you, and hung up the phone.  I began to weep openly.  Seth sighed, and rubbed my shoulders.  “Don't panic, okay? Honey, it can't stay in the house overnight, we have to get it out of here. You gotta help me.”

By now, I was beyond the point of no return.  I was sleep-deprived, and panic-stricken.  The last thing I wanted to hear Seth say was that I had to help him face the beast.

“It's gonna EAT me!” I wailed before descending into tears again.

Seth rolled his eyes.  “Gene, it's the size of a mouse with wings.”

I hiccupped and coughed with tears oozing out of my eyes, “It can . . .  FLY!!”

After Seth successfully calmed me down (with lots of forehead kisses), I slipped on a sweater and jeans, and tied a scarf around my hair. Seth donned his cold weather gang member attire from the night before. I’d cried so hard, my nerves were raw. My voice was ragged.

Seth addressed me like a General taking his troops into battle. “Okay, we’re going to go downstairs, that’s where it has to be since the doors up here are closed, and we’ll go from there.”  My only reply was a pitiful wail.

Seth breathed out, exasperated. “And will you knock off the crying please? They travel by sound; you’re going to drive it right to us with that crying.”

After yelping once, I nodded in silent understanding, and obediently followed him to the second floor. Seth quickly swept the room with his flashlight. Not meeting up with Fangy, we slowly crept down to the first floor, where Seth stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and I froze behind him on the landing. I heard a thud.

Urgently, but calmly, Seth beckoned to me.  “Gene! Gene, bring me my keys. It’s in the kitchen. I have to get this door down here open.”

That was all I needed.  I screamed bloody murder.

 “STOP SCREAMING AND GET MY DAMN KEYS!” Seth shouted up the stairs to me.

Panic-stricken, and inconsolable, I grabbed his keys and tossed them down the stairs where they landed with a thud before I ran back up to the second floor.  Seth called out to me.

“No, Gene get back on the steps! You have to keep it from going upstairs!”

I made my way to the first floor landing, holding a sheet in front of me. I tried to keep my composure, but just then, Fangy made his appearance and swept toward Seth before angling sharply upward and soaring into the living room. I gave a scream that would have made Chaka Kahn proud while jumping up and down on the landing like an over-caffeinated toddler.

By this point, Seth was tired, and had had enough of my screaming. “Gene,” he said calmly, while wiping sweat off of his face, “Get your ass outside and see if you can make ENOUGH noise to draw it out of the house!”

I ran down the steps, out of our back door, through the causeway between our house and our neighbor’s, and up the three steps to our front door. I grabbed a broom, and begin to bang the open door with it in an effort to drive the bat-bastard out of the house.

Now let’s stop here.  At 2:00 a.m., here were two grown adults, dressed like they are ready for a Nor’easter (it was the middle of the summer), banging on doors and screaming.  Is it any wonder people think we’re odd?

Seth watched me for a full minute, amused at my efforts. “Yeah, no. He doesn’t seem to care. Get back in here Tito Puente.”

I ran around the back, through the kitchen, and stood next to Seth who was posing with a broom in his hand.  I stared at him in awe, thinking of how much he resembled a golfing trophy.  I then realized that I was in the same room as the monster, and my eyes began dart wildly around, searching for our arch nemesis. Seth’s voice made me jump.

“Do you see him,” he asked me in a near whisper.

I stared crazily around the room waiting for the bat to come swooping down on us. “No . . .  .”

Seth pointed with his chin. “He’s right there, on the door jamb.  . . .”

I followed his eyes, and spied a small bat hanging upside down on the top left side of our doorway. He appeared to be confused---Well if he moves two inches to the left, he’s free. The door is open dude, just fly through it, I thought to myself. Then I started to wonder if the bat was silently laughing at our appearances---wide-eyed, exhausted, and dressed like cold climate Crips. The first few lines of Poe’s “The Raven” crept into my head . . . . ’As I pondered weak and weary . . . . ’ As if on cue, the bat twitched his left wing ever so slightly . . . .

I grabbed Seth’s arm digging my fingernails into his bicep so hard, they bit through the winter coat, and in a hoarse whisper, chanted to him. “Oh God Seth, oh God….he’s going to fly . . . . Oh my God . . . .  Oh my AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” For the second time that night, Chaka would have been singing my praises as I reacted to the bat swooping down off the door toward us.

Seth swung the broom and missed. “GET THE SHEET!” he yelled to me while taking shots with his improvised Louisville Slugger.

I ducked, screamed, and swung the sheet wildly toward the bat, but missed it by a fraction of an inch.

“Almost!” Seth shouted before taking another swing with the broom.

I screamed again as the bat swooped toward us, and swung the sheet. I caught our coat tree instead and brought it crashing to the ground.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I screamed while flailing around madly. The bat swooped again over our heads as I swung the sheet, hopped, and did a fairly accurate pirouette that would have made Bob Fosse proud.

“Gene, COOL IT,” Seth hollered, noting that I was very close to completely losing my sanity with no hope of ever regaining it.

I ran to the first floor landing, and watched the bat swoop around the living room. It was an eerie sight---it made no noise. I watched in horror from the landing as it swooped around from the living room to the kitchen. Seth crept out the front door, and stood on the steps.

Speaking slowly, as if he was trying to explain the concept of astrophysics to a second grader, Seth explained to me, “ I’m going to bang on the door, and try to coax it out. DON’T. SCREAM.”

I covered my mouth, and watched as the bat swooped toward the door, then away, toward the door, and away again, for five minutes. Those five minutes seemed like an eternity! Then, miraculously, drawn by Seth’s noise, the bat flew right out the open front door! Seth gave the broom one final swing, came into the house, and shut and locked the door, looking at me and smiling triumphantly.

“That bastard is GONE.”

Still holding the sheet, I could think of only one thing to say.

“I think I’m gonna faint,” I said before collapsing on our steps.

Seth shook his head, and lifted me easily in his arms.  “Let’s get you to bed,” he said chuckling.

 ------------

Seth, a MRI technologist, and Gene-Leigh, a family therapist, live in Pittsburgh, Pa. The couple describes themselves as “two of the most down-to-earth folks you will ever meet although we are both a bit nutty.”  

 Stay tuned for more adventures from this lovely Swirl Couple!

Join in the Fray: Are you afraid of birds and wings and bats and things?

I’m blogging every day in the month of January in Blogher’s NaBloPoMo Challenge. Thanks for reading, and feel free to comment!

Copyright © 2013 Michelle Matthews Calloway, ASwirlGirl, All rights reserved.

 

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