Meet Me at the Bat Cave

My sister has twice now made comments on my blog alluding to a fateful event from many years ago. I think it may be necessary for me to recount the tale in full to clarify things to my devoted readers (all 5 of you).

After I finished college, my sister Barbara and I lived with my brother Steve and his family in Peru, Indiana. We shared a large upstairs bedroom near my niece and nephew’s bedrooms. Late one night, I opened the bedroom door and spotted a large winged creature heading straight for my open bedroom door. It was a bat. I screamed and slammed the door.

Chaos ensued. My young nephew Jordan slept through my scream, but the rest of the house did not. My scream woke my niece Janet down the hall, who slipped down the back stairs to the main floor. Barbara, Steve and Tara (Steve’s wife) were already downstairs, I believe. Steve was immediately at attention: “Mel? What’s wrong?” And so I hollered back that there was a bat flying around upstairs, and I was stuck in the bedroom.

I don’t know exactly what happened next. No, I didn’t black out or experience any amnesia. I’m just not sure what was going on outside my door. I think Steve came upstairs and turned on all the lights. He must have swatted at the bat with a broom or baseball bat. To escape said persecution, the bat dived down the stairs, presumably heading for the main floor.

I heard Steve yelling about the bat going down stairs to the rest of the family below, and so I thought it was now safe to leave the bedroom. I grabbed the first “weapon” I could find. Armed with my small floral ironing board, I cautiously opened the bedroom door and headed down the stairs to aid in the fight.

Half way down, I stopped on the stairs and watched Steve running around the living room, shaking curtains and trying to find the missing bat, but the bat was no where to be found. Barbara, Tara and Janet had all been in the living room when Steve had watched the bat fly down the stairs, but none of them had seen the bat come into the room. So where could it be?

It was at that moment in my descent down the stairs that it suddenly occurred to me, Steve and the rest of the family huddled together that the bat might be closer than we thought. Maybe it was still upstairs? Or maybe...

I looked down at the stairs below me, and the bat was there clinging to the edge of the carpeted step right under my feet. The bat was inches from my toes. I don’t remember much after that really. I know what happened, and I know what happened after that, but I’m not sure how it all came about. The end result was that I killed the bat with my faithful ironing board.

The next thing I remember vividly is my brother saying something like, “I think it’s dead, Mel. You can stop now.”

Steve removed the no-longer-at-flight-risk bat from our view, and the rest of the family all crowded around me and gave me hugs as I made my way down the remaining steps in a daze. I remember sitting down on the couch trembling, still gripping the now defiled ironing board. First there was shock, then laughter, and then a sense of awe and bewilderment.

How did I do that? Had I ever killed a bat before? NO! I had never killed anything before except for an occasional spider (and back then, I usually resorted to having other people kill the spiders I encountered). It breaks my heart to see a dead deer, cat, bird or other animal. So how did I manage to kill the bat myself? Where did the courage and strength come from? I really don’t know. But somehow there on the steps as I stood nervously poised for flight, adrenaline had kicked in, and suddenly I had the courage to deal with my fear and protect my family. I had eradicated that winged mammal with several blows using my small trusty ironing board.

I'm not normally a violent person. I wouldn't say that I experience much rage at all really. In the years since, I haven't killed another animal, that I know of, and, I’m not expecting a repeat performance any time soon. Thus if you find a bat, mouse or other animal in your home, and you need help getting rid of him or her, please call someone else because I’ve given up my role as an exterminator for now. OK, so I’m out to eradicate the hairy 8-legged specimens that plague my very existence, but that is quite clearly another matter entirely...That is personal.