Monday, May 3, 2010

Mr. Daredevil and me

I have a very active imagination. While most people dream of random mundane stuff, my dreams are always of flying monkeys, circus polar bears on rampage, man eating spiders and so on. So during me not-so-brief stay on this planet there have been quite a few terrifying characters I have made up/watched on the television. However none of them can even compare to Mr. Daredevil.

I was helping H move into his new house and little did I know I was being watched. Watched by someone who knew every nook and corner of the house that I didn’t know existed…until of course he disappeared into them! After a day of heavy lifting and cleaning H offered to go get us some food while I unearthed some kitchenware from the yet to be opened boxes. As I was wrestling with the packing paper to find some usable plates, the power went off. I rummaged through the boxes to find some candles to light and that’s when I felt his presence.

I feel a chill go up my spine when I hear a scuffling sound near the cupboard. I try to scream as loud as I can to ward off the evil that lurks but no words come out. That is when I see him. He stands there proudly smirking knowingly at me. His thousand eyes marking his target while he begins to calmly move towards me trying to figure out the best way to take me down. As I watched in mounting horror he undid his hidden wings and prepared to take flight. He leaps into the air and hits me. I flail my arms around and my body writhes in terror. He flies straight at me…wings beating, altitude rising and falling most unpredictably. Seconds before impact I freeze, hold my ground and simply raise my hands feebly and turn my head away so I don’t see into those eyes before he strikes.

I tried to defend myself. What I did not know was that this flying critter was the ace of fly school. He was top gun material, probably the captain of the fleet. He anticipated my swing, dove, twisted and did a roll before climbing vertically upwards and disappeared into one of those fore mentioned nooks which only he knew exist!!! I stood there, stunned and speechless at what had just happened knowing fully well that he had won the battle wings down and the worst was yet to come.

I try to make my way out of the house before he shows up again. I started hard when the click of the door knob resounded. Shit. Can he open doors now? Why me? I thought. It wasn't fair. Someone touched my arm and I scream. Thank god it’s H. He is startled and turns me around. “What’s wrong he asks?” At this point my skin is clammy and my complexion is white. He looks troubled and insists on knowing what’s wrong. I point a shaky finger towards the bedroom. As H prepares to go and investigate I stop him saying its useless to go unarmed.

Armed with a cricket bat H slowly entered the room. He hits Mr.D in a swift sideswipe and made him spin across the floor…he came to a stop after hitting a chair leg and lay there a while with his precious wings strewn clumsily about, but almost as soon as he stopped he righted his wares, twitched his antennae and ran off at 160km/h towards some unseen haven he knew of. He turns, gives us one last look which plainly says “You may have won the battle but not the war.”

H turns to me with an unbelievable look on his face “A fricking cockroach? You made me think it was something much worse.”

I hear H ran into him another day and tried to take him out with a spray of mortein but I assume Mr.D didn’t get hit right because he dove into the sink (probably washed the stinging bug-spray off himself) and reappeared a few days later after his “sick leave” in the bathroom.

Mr. D is living proof that roaches were here before us, will live amongst us, and will survive after we nuke each other. H for one has given up on trying to get rid of him. He swears that after he stopped trying to kill him Mr.D stopped pulling those maverick-fly-boy moves. Mr.D now even has the decency to hide when H has guests.