Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Grammy Dee and the Night Visitor


             It was a dark and stormy night—well, it was dark. In fact, it was pitch black because Grammy Dee was sleeping in the basement bedroom, the one she always occupies when visiting her daughter and family. The room has no windows. But it does have a fireplace...with a dark, gaping opening.
             Around midnight, Grammy Dee dreamed about a butterfly fluttering around her head.  As sleep morphed into wakefulness, she realized this was no dream. And if the creature circling the room was a butterfly, it was on steroids.
            Grammy Dee hid under the covers and hoped the nocturnal visitor would go away. But even with a comforter over her head, she could hear the frantic flap, flap, flap...flap, flap, flapping of its wings. The creature was trapped. And so was Grammy Dee.
            Summoning her courage, Grammy Dee bounded from her bed. She flipped on the light switch and opened the bedroom door. Her worst fears were realized as the bat luffed its way from the bedroom and into the cave-like darkness of the living area. Grammy Dee slammed the door and climbed back into bed. She’d be safe from the bat at least until morning.
            But as she lay there, she started to worry. What if the bat flew upstairs? What if it bit her darling and extremely smart little grandsons and turned them into vampires? And what if they weren’t nice, well-dressed vampires like those in the Twilight series, but mean, ugly ones like in Horror of Dracula? Once again Grammy Dee leaped from her bed and turned on the light.
             At the bedroom door, she hesitated then opened it just a crack. She listened for more flap-flapping. Hearing nothing, she rushed to turn on the light in the living area.

            With the stealth of a stalker, Grammy Dee searched the room. Then she spied it—a small, mud-colored triangle on the floor between the couch and the big chair. She inched closer to confirm her suspicion. Yes, the triangle had pointy big ears and bony little claws. Backing up slowly, her heart pounding, Grammy Dee fought to keep her wits about her and devise a plan.
            She knew from experience—a bird once flew into her house—it might be a good idea to throw a sheet or towel over the bat. But what if the bat was only pretending to be dead or sleeping? What if it was “playing possum”? What if it suspected what Grammy Dee was up to and, when she came close to trap it, flew up and sunk its fangs into her jugular? Grammy Dee thought some more and came to a reasonable, if rather sexist, conclusion: Bat-catching is a man’s job. She climbed the stairs to the main floor and gently roused Kristin and her husband Brad by announcing, “There’s a bat in your basement!!!”
            Grammy Dee and Kristin crept down the stairs and waited for Brad who was putting in his contacts. He had to do that because without them, he’s blind as a...well, a bat. When he came downstairs, the two women, from under their protective head gear of throw pillows, gave him moral support and advice.
            Heeding their expert instructions, Brad flung a towel over the bat. Suspense hung thick in the air as everyone waited. When the bat made no effort to move, Brad scooped it up, towel and all, and hurled it into the yard.
            With crisis averted, carpet cleaner was applied to eliminate any possible bat residue, and Brad and Kristin returned to bed. But just in case the bat had relatives who might come searching for him, Grammy Dee placed a card table in front of the fireplace opening before retiring.
            The next morning, the episode made for an interesting post on Facebook and drew many comments. Among them was one from friends who’d previously been guests in the basement bedroom: “That place is so dark we’ve always referred to it as the ‘bat cave.’”
            Grammy Dee thinks that’s a fitting name. But please don’t refer to it as the “old bat’s cave.”
 
           What about you? Any close encounters of the critter kind you'd care to share?
 

           

 

 

           

11 comments:

  1. I've heard of bats in the belfry, but this is not the case, I guess. Dee Dee, I was laughing so hard when I read this that my husband asked what I was reading.

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    1. Thank you, Brandi.Glad this made you laugh. With these kinds of posts, I'm never sure if other people will find them quite as hilarious as I do. I fear they might be "had-to-be-there" situations.

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  2. Awww! I probably would have tried to pet it. And then gotten a vampiric bite for my trouble.

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    1. Really, Sonia? Despite your affinity for all things haunted and creepy, I have to say I never figured you for a pet-the-bat kind of girl. Just goes to show how little we really know our friends. :-)

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  3. Totally related to Grammy Dee's dilemma, Dee Dee! Have a few stories that are similar, but mine usually include bugs. Here's an example: http://write-mindedwoman.weebly.com/1/post/2013/03/battle-of-the-cockroach.html

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    1. Natine, I grew up near the Gulf Coast, and wood roaches were the king of pests there. Don't know if they are as big as a palmetto roach, but I have seen a chihuahua on the losing end of a fight with one--almost. I can tell you I HATE anything that jumps or flies at me without giving ample warning. (And I happen to know your sister has engaged in warfare with a mouse.)

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    2. Shel's REALLY good story is the battle with the possum. I still laugh when I tell people about that... :)

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    3. Okay, I'm definitely going to be asking her about that incident!

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  4. Who knew a bat could be so much fun? At least for the reader! You're lucky you had someone in the house to share the drama with. Steve was out of town for my mouse-capade - do you know how hard it is to find a neighbor willing to come over at midnight???

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  5. This is great! THanks for linking up at OWB!

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  6. Thanks, Heather, and thanks for giving me the opportunity to link up!

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