methinks

Beast Wars: The Saga Continues

(Originally sent on 10.8.2002)

I had finished rearranging my living room furniture and settled into a relaxing evening of TV Tetris. (As if in tacit acknowledgement of the low quality programming, TVs in China are often equipped with a variety of built in, remote control operated games.) I was nearing a new world record when suddenly, and rather fiercely, a winged incarnation of the devil himself hurled his fanged, furry form at my jugular. With instincts born in the jungle, I rolled to the floor. My attacker rose and circled, diving at intervals in an attempt to weaken my morale. With each pass, a drop of his rabid saliva would bespeckle my body. I stood fast.

"Demon, be gone! Get out!" I howled from the floor. The assault continued. It soon became clear to us both that my attempted exorcism would not succeed. He trilled a most vicious victory cry, or perhaps it was a more accurate sonar reading of my carotid artery. Nonetheless, it caused me to press my belly against the cold tile floor and rapidly undulate towards the exit. As if to mock my attempt at escape, the beast took a respite upon my curtains.

"I'll finish you at my leisure," he seemed to lisp.

It was during this oath that I released the clasp on the door and found sanctuary in the hall. I felt it necessary to summon my neighbor and friend.

Not that I could not vanquish this vampiric foe alone. Quite the contrary. But I thought that should such an event ever occur in his abode, he would be well served to study my soon-to-be skillful and swift removal of the afore mentioned sacrilege.

We did not tarry in our return. I jumped over the threshold ready to finish a battle I did not start. But where was my foe? Had he left the arena? I suspected he had taken up a position of ambush in the dark sleeping chamber. Armed with a straw-tipped lance I forged ahead. Silence. No attack and no attacker. Could it be that he had fled? Sadly, no.

I say sadly because upon my floor - rather than the blood thirsty spawn of Satan I had expected - lay a shivering little bat. He had injured himself at some point during my absence and could only crawl. A crawling bat is a sad sight indeed. His injuries needed tending, but I had neither the skill nor the courage to assist this nocturnal wanderer. I gently coaxed my fragile friend onto a stretcher of sorts and carried him into the night air. Perhaps the call of his own would be enough to rejuvenate his dazed spirits.

At last he did take flight but weakly and in pain. Watching his attempt to overcome adversity but knowing full well that he would die was a true measure of this tiny traveler's nobility. We would do well to learn from such a teacher.

Make bold choices, for this is the only freedom you have.