“As it happened, I had no need to worry, because the horror of what transpired next quickly decided things for me.
* * * *
“As I peered over the edge of the nest, I did my best to remain quiet, but as I pushed myself up, one foot lost contact with the limb I was standing on and I slipped, causing a terrible racket and undoubtedly giving away my element of surprise. As a result of my slip, I unintentionally reached up a little too far into the opening of the nest to support myself, and that’s when it happened. The creature sprang from the darkness with the quickness of a cobra and buried one of its sharp pointy claws deep into my left shoulder blade, like a butcher’s meat hook. I let forth an agonizing moan as the thing pulled me up and partway into its filthy lair. It looked down at me with those demonic bright eyes and seemed to laugh. At that instant I was sure it recognized me. It moved its repulsive face closer to mine and smiled with those sharp needle-like teeth.
“‘FEED! FEED!’ it said in its evil bug voice. But I was determined not to be the main course of this or any other insect’s meal. I reached behind me with my free hand and pulled my pistol from its holster. ‘FEED THIS!’ I shouted in dramatic fashion and fired a point-blank shot into the center of the creature’s solar plexus. It immediately tore its claw from my shoulder and both it and I screamed out in pain. The thing staggered as I pulled the trigger once more. This time, the bullet tore through one of its putrid eyes, obliterating it in an explosion of yellow pus that splattered both me and the nest in a reeking stench. The creature fell on top of me. I could feel its rage. It was now outside the protective confines of the nest and I heard a sizzling and crackling noise as it screamed in utter agony. I looked back and witnessed the effect the sun was having on the creature; it was literally frying to death, like bacon in a pan. But still, it attempted to pull its way back into the nest.
“In one last surge of anger I kicked the creature in the face with my boot, completely shattering its other eye and sending it over the side. I heard a momentary flutter of wings as it tried to recover, but the sound was short lived. I quickly adjusted my body so that I could witness its demise but all I saw was a thin line of green smoke hurdling toward the ground, ending in a wisp of ash. The deed had been done and I laughed harder than I had done in a long time. I immediately started my way down the tree. I remember thinking that I could now put this nightmare behind me. Only, in hindsight, I should have given more attention to the muffled clicking sound I heard coming from somewhere within the tree.
* * * *
“I struggled my way back up the rope and headed for the tower itself. I wanted to take a few more pictures for my book, which would include the interior of the tower as well as my old jail cell. My motivation for coming back had always been, first and foremost, the destruction of the creature, but I also had my friend Carlos in mind. I fully intended to give him a proper burial; perhaps that would help him find everlasting peace.
“I made my way up the winding stairs and entered my old room. I was, of course, a bit apprehensive about returning but my nemesis was now dead and I knew that I had nothing left to fear. I called out for Carlos a number of times but he didn’t answer. This wasn’t unusual and I thought that it might be for the best; after all, I wasn’t looking forward to explaining to him that he was actually dead!
“I stepped into my old cell and walked over to the window. The daylight was fading fast and I pulled my camera out to get one good picture of the tree. I suppose my adrenaline was finally wearing off because my shoulder began to ache terribly. I obviously lost a good deal of blood and suddenly felt light headed and extremely weary. I decided to lay down for awhile in the hay, just to take a quick nap and recover my strength.
“I quickly floated off into a wonderful dream where I found myself back in my hometown playing a game of baseball with my childhood friends. It was my turn at bat and I stepped up to the plate, feeling extremely happy and sporting a huge grin. I looked down and tapped my bat against the plate, but saw that it was covered in dirt so I asked the umpire to clean it off. He dutifully bent down with his small whisk broom and moved it back and forth across the plate. It made a strange scratching sound that, for some reason, started my heart racing. While he was bent over I could hear him mumbling to himself the same words over and over in rhythm with the brush strokes. His intonations were indistinct at first but to my horror, I soon recognized the words, ‘FEED! FEED! FEED! FEED!’ When he finally looked up at me, I reeled back in terror because I could see that he wore the same ghastly face of the Praying Mantis!
“I awoke with a scream and jerked to a sitting position. I took in a deep breath. It was all just a dream. Or was it? I say this because the scratching noise never stopped and I was still hearing the words ‘FEED! FEED!’ I slowly lifted my eyes to the window and at that second, all the life seemed to drain out of me, for there outside was the same Praying Mantis creature frantically scraping away at the mortar that surrounded the last remaining bar. Only, this one was a female!
“If my mind hadn’t been so damaged by the sheer terror of it all I could have easily ran from the room to safety, but I seemed to be frozen in place. There came a violent wrenching of the last bar and the creature slithered its way into the room and toward me. What little existing sanity left to me completely evaporated in those final few moments of my life, for amidst my screams and struggles, I clearly heard my old friend Carlos yell out in a loud voice, ‘Please, Senior Wilson… You are making enough noise to wake the dead!’
“At hearing this, I was reduced to a fit of hysterical and uncontrollable laughter, even as I was being helplessly dragged through the window. A few moments later, I found myself at the creature’s nest. She tossed me through the opening and I tumbled into blackness. I was still laughing when out of that darkness, hundreds of tiny yellow eyes popped into existence. I could sense the she-creature standing victoriously over me and in her fell insect voice, I heard her say, ‘FEED CHILDREN FEED!’ That’s when the laughter stopped and the screaming—Oh God, the screaming!
IN THE COMPANY OF GEESE
When a flock of geese fly overhead, do you ever wonder what all that squawking is about? I do. That’s why I decided to give my own weird interpretation as to what it is they might be saying. Like all of us, I’m sure they struggle with everyday problems and are probably a bit dopey and smart-alecky as well. And really, who’s to say I’m wrong?
* * * *
Honk, Honk, Honk.
“C’mon now, keep that formation tight. Be the ‘V’ boy’s, be the ‘V’!”
“Hey, Sid, whatcha got there on your leg?”
“Dude, don’t tell me you got tagged.”
“Wow, you guys are observant. I’ve had this thing for over a week now.”
“Heck, we just thought you were tryin’ to make some kind of fashion statement.”
“Very funny. Just so happens that some guy snuck up behind me while…”
“Hey, I think the old man’s gonna land again.”
“Geez, can’t this guy ever make up his mind?”
“Yep, looks like we’re goin’ in.”
The flock could see a beautiful sunny patch of tall grass directly below, thinking it had to be their destination, only the leader made a last second correction and angled them toward a small pond further away. The ones in the back couldn’t respond fast enough to make the adjustment and their momentum carried them through a tangle of spiky trees, where some had their wings clipped, and not less than a few curses could be heard.
They came in fast and hard. Most glided easily and settled into the pond with nothing more than a moderate splash of water, but others weren’t so lucky. A few overshot the pond and tried to make a stand up landing but were reduced to a blur of feathers, tumbling into a thicket of mulberry bushes and ending flat on their faces. The fallen ones scrambled to get to their feet quickly, hoping to avoid the inevitable razzing. A sarcastic voice shouted, “LAND MUCH!“ and many pointed their wings and laughed.
<
br /> One by one they made their way out of the pond, each choosing a nice soft spot of grass to nestle down into and bask in the day’s glorious sunlight. The leader could be seen waddling his way to a more distant location, separate from the rest of the flock, quite aloof and determined to be alone as he had been from the very beginning.
A group of them gathered around.
“Say, Ox. Ain’t somebody gonna say something to Der Fuhrer over there. I mean, he’s gonna get somebody killed one of these days.”
There arose a number of honks in agreement and Ox raised his wings to quiet them.
“I know, I know. We’ve all been wanting to get rid of him for awhile now but until we can find a suitable replacement, I think…”
“How about you, old boy?” came a voice from the back. “The fellas would surely follow your lead.”
All seemed to be on board with the suggestion and someone shouted for a vote.
Ox looked embarrassed and lifted a wing to quiet them again.
“Now that’s darn decent of you guys, but the truth of the matter is, I got no sense of direction. Heck, we’d probably end up buzzard food in the middle of a desert somewhere. No, I don’t want that on my conscience. We’re just gonna have to figure something else.”
“Well, in the meantime, how’s about you have a word with Der Furher? What say, old buddy?
Everyone thought it an excellent idea and Ox nodded. “Sure fellas, I’ll have a pow-wow with him.”
So, Ox turned and waddled off in search of the leader.
* * * *
While he was gone, the rest of the flock engaged in one of their deep intellectual conversations.
“Hey, does anybody really know why we always have to fly in that stupid ‘V’ formation? It’s starting to get a little old, wouldn‘t you say?”
“Yeah, I agree with Phil. There ain’t no law that says we gotta fly in a ‘V,’ is there?’
“I heard that it helps us slice through the air easier,” said another. “Something to do with wind drag and all that.’
“Is that so, professor?”
“You guy’s are all crackers,” squawked another. “The reason we do it is because of tradition, plain and simple.”
“I’ll tell you why we have to fly in a V,” came a voice from the back, “it’s because flying in a ‘Q’ or any other letter would look stupid, now wouldn’t it?”
They all laughed.
“What say we just stick to what’s got us here, fellas. There ain’t nothing wrong with maintaining a little tradition. Am I right?”
Most honked their agreement but a small goose started shaking his head and got up from where he was sitting. He placed his wings behind him and paced back and forth as though he was about to give a locker room speech.
“Tradition. Tradition, you say!” Well, I for one am willing to do away with tradition altogether! I want you guys to just think for a moment how boring our lives have become. I mean, we fly, we land, we eat bugs, and that‘s about…. oh yeah, and we poop. As a matter a’fact, we poop a lot! Then, of course, we start the whole predictable thing all over again. I ask you, in all honesty, does that sound like a fulfilling life?”
He could see that his words were having some impact. Each of them was staring down at the ground in a thoughtful way and he could almost hear the wheels turning in their heads. Then someone yelled out…
“What do suggest we do Fred, open up a small hardware store in Poughkeepsie and learn how to square dance?”
That broke the tension and they all started laughing.
The speechmaker looked as though he was about to continue his rant but as he glanced around he could only see goofy faces smiling back at him and he knew that it was no use. He just grunted his exasperation and sat back down with a red face. This elicited even more laughter.
“No, no, you’re looking at this all wrong,” said another goose, standing up to make his point. “We got it made in the shade, fellas. We’re living the life of Riley here. Just think. We fly when we want and where we want. There’s no punchin’ a time clock or having to take any crap from the man. Heck, call me a fool, but I can’t see any possible downside to the life we live. It’s all gravy, baby!”
There arose more honks of agreement and a few patted him on the back.
“What about the inclement weather, Sid?” one voice shouted.
“Yeah, well, I admit that the weather can be a problem sometimes, but…”
“And the power lines. Ever fly into one of those?” said a goose, getting a few laughs as he twitched on the ground, giving his best imitation of being electrocuted.
“Don’t forget about the jet airplanes. Getting sucked into one of those babies will get your attention real quick!”
They started throwing out a whole list of problems:
“What about skyscrapers?”
“Poisonous chem trails?”
“Predatory animals?”
“Hunters?”
“Disease?”
“Lice?”
“Carpal Tunnel Syndrome!” added another, with a giggle.
Everyone just stared at him.
“Alright, alright!” I get your point! Geez…now I feel like killing myself!
The flock roared with laughter.
At that moment an attractive young female seductively waddled her way past them and hopped into the pond. There followed the usual whistles and catcalls.
“You know, she did that on purpose, don‘t you?” said one goose, nudging his buddy next to him.
His friend was staring with his tongue part way out of his mouth.
“Yeah,“ he said, “but I wouldn’t mind flyin’ behind that for awhile. You know what I‘m sayin’? HIGH WING!”
“Say fellas, how’s come we got none of them cuties in our flock?” asked a gangly looking goose, craning his neck. “It ain’t like we stink or nothin’.”
He took a quick sniff under a wing and crinkled his face.
“Do you really have to ask?” said another.
“Oh, I’m sure that if we include a female or two into our little boys’ club here it would add a touch of class, but I’m telling you fellas, the whole dynamic of the flock would be changed. I can just see it now: you dunder-heads falling all over yourselves trying to make an impression. Before you know it, you’ll be bathing every other day and handin’ over your very last bug to her. And where does it all end? I’ll tell you where! Once a better lookin’ flock comes along she’ll be outa’ here so fast it’ll make your head spin. You’ll just be standin’ there with a dumb look on your puss as she flies off into the sunset, on the wing tip of a Sergio or a Kevin. No, we don‘t need no gold-diggin’ female types in this ….
“Sounds like ol’ Pete’s been hurt, fellas. I think somebody needs a hug!”
They all started waddling their way toward him, chanting,”Pete needs a hug! Pete needs a hug!”
“Now, you guys just keep away from me, I‘m warnin‘ you…”
* * * *
Away from the flock, Ox wasn’t having too much luck. He approached the leader with a bit of apprehension.
“Hey, uh…hey there, flock leader. Sorry to bother you, but me and the boys was talkin’ and we got a few grievances we’d like to lay on you if you don’t mind. So…”
“Oh, that’s just great!” replied the leader, coming out of his sleep and looking defiant. “Let me tell you something. I never asked for this job. As a matter of fact, I remember a few weeks ago, I was just enjoying a nice pleasant nap all by myself when out of the blue I heard a noise that startled me, so naturally, I took off. Next thing I know, you and your misfit friends are following me like some kind of bad habit. I’ve been trying to shake your sorry butts off my tail ever since. So don’t you …”
“Alright! Don’t get your tail feathers in a bunch! Geez, there’s just no talkin’ to some people!”
Ox waddled his way back to the flock looking dejected but no more than a squat little fellow who was making his way
to the edge of the group at the same time.
“What’d you find out there, Sammy?” asked Ox.
There was a most sour look on the face of this particular goose as he settled down into the grass with the others.
“Well, Ox. I think we can forget about considering ol’ Mickey for flock leader.”
“What do you mean, Sammy?” asked a goose next to him.
The rest quieted so they all could hear.
“Well fellas, I think Mickey’s decision making skills are a bit suspect.”
The group pressed him for an explanation.
“Truth is, I just saw ol’ Mick drop a turd, take a few steps forward, then backtrack.”
“What are you sayin’, Sammy? You sayin’ that Mickey stepped in his own mess? Ha! That’s no grounds for impeachment, old boy!” laughed Ox.
The goose swallowed hard and looked a little green under the gills.
“Only…. he ate it.”
There was about three seconds of silence after Sammie’s disclosure then there came a litany of “Oh God” and assorted choking and gagging noises.
“Well, that settles it,” Ox said, turning his attention back to the flock. “We’ve been trying to get this leadership thing worked out for over a week now.” He looked at each goose long and hard. “Any of you bozos think you got what it takes to be flock leader? C’mon now don’t be shy.”
There was a lot of shuffling and sideways glances, then all of a sudden someone shouted out, “Hey! It looks like the old boy is taking off again!”
The flock jumped to its feet and Ox rolled his eyes. “Alright you guy’s, let’s have an orderly take off this time, and for God’s sake, show a little pride; try to stay in formation for a change!”
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