If I had it to do over, I suppose
I'd have done it differently. At the time, it seemed okay, but upon
reflection, I guess it wasn't my best decision. However, you know
how they say hindsight is 20/20? Yeah. That'd be me.
Not that it's a bad thing – per
se – not exactly.... But I could have done better. I suppose we
all kick ourselves from time to time, ruminate on the whys and
wherefores of a situation, but this one really doesn't bear thinking
about.
I should probably start at the
beginning. I was standing on Molly Henderson's porch painting her
trim. I do odd jobs around the neighborhood to make some extra cash.
Anyway, she invited me in for iced tea and I graciously accepted.
It was well over 90° in the shade and humid. Kind of like standing
in a sauna – no air moving. The cool air in the house bathed my
boiling skin in a chilly layer of gooseflesh. I sipped my tea,
feeling it glide down my throat, as I chatted with Molly.
After my break, I worked my way
around the front of the porch. I was glad of the deep overhang and
the fact the sun was now on the back side of the house, and dipped my
brush in the glistening white paint. Moments later, a wasp started
circling my paint can. I swatted it away with my hand, but it came
back. Something about that paint really caught its attention. I
took another swat, this time with the paint brush.
All I succeeded in doing was
pissing it off. Ever been on top of a ten foot ladder with an angry
wasp buzzing around your head? I got off the ladder, taking a break
away, hoping the damn thing would leave. When I went back up, there
were three wasps circling the paint can. Great. Just what I needed.
I hopped back down and got a
rolled up newspaper from the recycling bin on the side of the house.
Armed with my weapon of wasp destruction, I went back to my ladder.
In my absence, three more wasps had joined the ever widening circle
of my paint can. I now had six wasps weaving a wobbling flight path
over my can. I couldn't even approach it for fear they'd sting me.
Maybe now's the time to tell you
that I'm deathly afraid of being stung. I sat on a swing with a
wasp's nest under it when I was a kid. Couldn't see it because of
the tall grass around the swing set. Twenty-eight stings I got that
day. So maybe you can understand why I'm a bit leery, huh?
I halfheartedly swung my paper
around, hoping to discourage and scatter the critters, but they
weren't about to comply. Molly came to the front door and watched me
for a few minutes, hands on her hips.
“Skip Richards, I'm not paying
you to play tag with that paint can. Get back up on the ladder and
finish my trim!”
“I'd like to, Miss Molly, but
there's wasps....”
“Don't make me call your mama!”
“Miss Molly, I'm 23 years old.
You don't need to be calling my mama cause of some wasps.”
“Swat those things away. Big
boy like you ought not to be afraid of a couple wasps!”
“There's eight of them now. I
can't kill all eight at a time! Not with this!” I held up my
paper.
Molly huffed angrily and went
inside. She came back with a spray can and a broom. “Spray 'em
with this and knock 'em aside with a broom.”
I took the proffered weapons with
trepidation. What good was hairspray? I thought she'd bring me some
wasp killer or, better yet, a blow torch – but no.... I've got me
a broom and a can of AquaNet.
Taking careful aim, and making
sure I was upwind, I sprayed that hairspray for all I was worth. I
must've used half the can. One wasp after another wibbled and
wobbled and fluttered away. All but one. It landed on the rim of
the can.
I sprayed it again. Instead of
flying away, it did a strafing run at my head! I swatted at it with
my hands, but it kept coming. I took up the broom, flailing around
me like some kind of straw armed Ninja.
All of a sudden, Miss Molly's
screaming at me from the front porch. I couldn't understand what she
was saying until it was too late. I thwacked that ladder and paint
can, ladder and all came down on me.
Covered in paint with a huge knot
on my head from where the ladder hit me, I sat on Miss Molly's yard
while she and the entire neighborhood had a good laugh at me.
Yup – wish I'd of done it
differently....
Indian Summer
Lone Wolf
The Ninja Tattoo
Under the Western Sky
Shakazhan – Lone Wolf series book 2
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