The Battle of the Bug

The other night I was up late on the phone with all the lights in my room turned off and the TV on. My cat, Marla, was sitting on my desk and began slapping at a poster. I notice that some off the letters on the poster are obscured by a large dark spot. Before I even turn on the light, I know what it is. It's that time of year again. 

It's a palmetto bug. 

I know I write a good bit about what I would miss if I left Alabama, more specifically what I miss about the summer time. The palmetto bugs are not one of those things I would miss. 

They come around in the summer, you never really deal with an infestation, just a few pesky ones sneaking in your house to get out of the rain or escape the heat. I think this particular one came in through my attic, which seems to be flooding.

Palmetto bugs (also known as the American cockroach or waterbug) are not the dainty little cockroaches you kill with bait traps (those are German cockroaches). This is America, and when we do things, we do them big. These bugs get to be about an inch and a half long, but when you're looking at them in fear, they seem so much bigger. 

Oh, and did I mention they fly?

Every encounter I've ever had when one of these fuckers is vivid in my mind. I can remember being eleven and my sister and I spotting one on the wall near our bed. Even after dad killed it, we slept in the living room. The same summer one came in through the back door and was on a shelf in our room, we sat our cat, Checkers, up there and she ate it. 

I can remember being six, and coming home one night with mom (I was barefoot for some reason) and as we opened the door I stepped on one that had crawled under the door. He flipped on his backside and his little legs were tickling my feet. I still shudder to think about it. 

They used to live on the tree I liked to climb in my best friend's front yard growing up. They are abundant on the sidewalks in front of Publix and when I worked there I had to fight them in the bakery. I distinctly remember thinking I had killed one, sweeping into a pile with some other trash and then it miraculously coming back to life when I went to sweep everything into a dustpan. 

This one last night was a force to be reckoned with. As soon as I turned on the light it scampered up towards my window and hid behind the curtain. I went and found something long enough to lift the curtain from far away and verified where he was. 

Once I knew the bug's location I went back to talking on the phone. Killing a giant flying bug is a big task that I did not feel like undertaking at that particular moment. I figured knowing where the bug was, was enough. 

I accidentally fell asleep. I woke up about an hour later, panicked, I knew I had let my guard down and the bug could be making his attack. I immediately spotted him above the window on the other side. I watch him for just a few seconds before he disappears again. I can't fall asleep. I don't know where he went and I can't fall asleep.

I make an executive decision, and I give him my room. I go and sleep on the couch. 

The next morning, after a few hours of sleep, I know I need to find the roach but I'm just not up to it. I avoid my room until midday my mother and I decide to tackle the problem. We find him squished in a crack on the two-by-four above the window. After unsuccessfully trying to force him out with a fly swatter we take to pouring rubbing alcohol in the hole until he falls out. Then we flush him. 

It is safe to return to my room now. 

I figure this is the last I'll have to deal with these bugs, I don't see them a lot in the summer. It's always been a few random encounters. 

Later, Demetri (another on of my cats) is sitting on the counter in the kitchen. He is staring at the wall where is meets the counter and once again before I even look I know. It's not a spider, or a ladybug. There's no regular cockroach, no ants. He is watching another gargantuan devil roach. 

Right when I grab the flyswatter, Demetri bats at the roach and it flees across the counter top and slinks behind the dishwasher. Demetri stood guard for an hour or so, but I don't think he ever caught it.

So... now they have the kitchen. 

Me: 1, Roaches: 1.

They're gaining territory.