THE GIANT COCKROACHES

by JUAN ANTONIO © 2006

At least, one weird relative stands out in a numerous family group. In my case, we have several with unique looks and personalities; the count might reach half a dozen on my mother's side and over a dozen on my Dad's side. However, Aunt Lola beats them all.

 

Aunt Lola, my Dad's younger sister is a six feet nine inches red haired woman with the left ear ten times bigger than her right one. Also, Aunt Lola has a huge lump on the upper part of her back and a round thick dark mole on the tip of her long nose. Her bizarre fingers look dangerous after she extends them and shows the one inch tips of her long curved nails.

 

A gaze from her deep green eyes scares out the wits of any brave man. The sound of her voice is creepy and loud; at times, her vocabulary might fly sharp and nasty. Anyone who knows Aunt Lola thinks hard before taking a step that might disturb her brain juices and awake the engine of her unmerciful expletive machine. Besides my Dad, a couple characters have their way with Aunt Lola.

 

My baby brother, Sergio, and I have the privilege of listening to the secret sweet sound of her voice, the excellent use of her cultivated vocabulary and the warm kindness of her treat.

“My baby Prince would you care for another special crust baked cone of imported Swiss chocolate ice cream?” She asks Sergio.

 

Sergio nods and uses his charming smile and his long-lashed big emerald eyes to melt the brainpower of the pale woman.

 

“My gallant Captain Henry would you like a cone as well? Two scoops?” I nod with a smile and amuse her with a V signal using my index and middle right fingers.

 

Every time I come up with a creative occurrence and clown for her, Aunt Lola loves it. “Mama Theo! Aren't these two beauties? She talks loud to make sure the old lady hears her in her bedroom at the end of the hallway.

 

Grandma's house is only three blocks away from our home. When my mother goes out for a few hours for any reason, I take my baby brother with me to visit Aunt Lola; she knows the kind of sweet goodies we like. Some times, we find Dad with the two women chatting in the living room and treating themselves with a cup of dark purple Amazonian tea. It smells horrible, like a skunk; nevertheless, it tastes incredibly good. At the end of the afternoon, we all go home; Mom is waiting with the table ready for supper.

 

This early morning, my Dad asks me to go over Grandma's; Aunt Lola wants to talk to me. I suspect the reason for her request. Often, Aunt Lola mentions how appreciative she feels for my help with her pets. Also, one or two nights each week, I baby sit my ninety year old grandmother, Theo, while Aunt Lola parties and drinks who knows where and with whom.

 

I learned from my Dad not to make any negative criticism about the conduct of the sixty five year old aunt. Single, no children, no boyfriend of any sort and a healthy bank account gives the lonely woman plenty of rights to escape occasionally on a wild tour of immoral behaviour. It is her choice.

 

“My handsome Captain, how are you today?” Aunt Lola always gives me a regal welcome; her mischievous eyes lead my attention to the kitchen table crowded with all kinds of sweet goodies, all for me.

 

For an instant, I drool with thoughts about my exclusive feast later while watching TV. “Well, very well, thanks, your blessings Aunt Lola.” A Venezuelan who does not ask for blessings to an elder relative takes the great risk of a severe speech for not paying the proper respects.

 

“God bless you my beautiful Captain!”

 

“My Dad told me to come here today.”

 

“Yes! Tonight, I need you to be the man of the house and accompany your Grandma Theo. Tomorrow morning; the usual $10 will wait for your elegant hands on the coffee table.”

 

“Of course Aunt Lola, you know you can count on me.”

 

Her smile shows two lines of crooked sharp teeth with different tones of yellow and brown. “We, the ladies of this family have no braver gentleman than you my dear Captain Henry.” Her complement makes me feel greater than Tarzan, one of my heroes.

 

For me it is a winning situation; I get to watch my favourite TV shows alone by my self and I can eat as many sweet goodies as I can without impertinent comments about health. Also, in these early sixties, $10 in the hands of a nine year old buys a lot of stuff.

 

Aunt Lola never married nor had a lover. She experienced a horrible event at the end of the first quarter of the century. On a field trip, after her graduation as a Psycho Entomologist a group of young men kidnapped her for more than two weeks and abused of her in every imaginable/unimaginable form. Aunt Lola managed to escape her captors and got lost deep in the Amazonian rain forest. Somehow, after three years, Aunt Lola survived.

 

Searching for exotic insect species, a group of scientists found her sleeping inside a hollow tree trunk near the Black River region between Brazil and Venezuela . Every one was amazed for her great physical shape. For years, she did not speak a word and adopted a solitary and mysterious way of life in the company of my Grandma. Only my father has any kind of communication with the two secluded women; they do not get along with anybody else, including my mother.

 

Throughout the entire day, my Grandma has not left her bedroom. At dusk, Aunt Lola feeds her chickens in the open back patio and brings inside some of her tortoises. Aunt Lola has a numerous collection of these pets; once, I counted thirty eight of different sizes. Two of them are huge; occasionally, I give her a hand and we roll them like boulders to get them back into the house.

 

Just a few minutes before eight, Aunt Lola prepares herself to leave the home. From the recreation room at the back side of the house, I notice the exaggerated red make up all over her face and the scent of her French perfume.

 

‘My dear Captain, see you tomorrow!”

 

“Good night Aunt Lola! Have a great time!”

 

I grab an abundant supply of various chocolate goodies and turn on the TV to watch two of my favourite shows, Bat Masterson and Perry Mason. Around nine thirty, I hear Grandma's voice.

 

“Henry, it's time to turn off the TV and go to bed.”

 

“Yes Grandma, after Perry Mason, blessings Grandma.”

 

“God bless you dear. Henry, don't forget to drink your tea before you go to sleep.”

 

“I know Grandma, I won't forget.” Before bed time, I always treat myself with a large glass of delicious cold purple Amazonian tea.

 

In the family, I am famous for my deep sleep. In the past, we had earthquakes, terrorist attacks and hurricanes, even police sirens from across the street before a shoot out with a serial killer; in spite of everything and all the noise, I do not recall hearing anything or loosing a second of my sleeping time throughout my entire life.

 

I imagine the cold purple tea plays a big role with my happy sleeping situation. Aunt Lola keeps a full container inside the large fridge. No doubts, it provides me with extraordinary dreams; also, next day I feel more intelligent.

 

Monthly, a fifty pound bundle of Amazonian tea leafs arrives by Fed Ex for my Aunt Lola as courtesy of an ancient tribe in the remote jungle of the rain forest. Sergio, my father and I are the only persons in this planet who share the joys of this exotic drink prepared by Aunt Lola and Grandma. Not tonight, my stomach is full of chocolate and I have no space for a single drop of tea or any kind of drink, as a mater of fact.

 

Through the night, for the first time in my life, I have difficulties putting up straight sleeping hours. Several times, in my half sleep stage, I observe tortoises moving in and out of the bedroom. At a moment, one of the big tortoises stands at the entrance of the room and stares at me; it seems as if it smiles. Then, it turns and goes to wonder around the house with the rest of its friends.

 

Again, in the darkness inside the room, I hear weird noises; it feels as if several persons brush floors. Slightly, I open one eye and see the back half of a humongous cockroach leaving the room. The giant cockroach has to be over six feet long and three feet high. The legs produce the peculiar brushing noise with its walk. My heart pounds heavily at an amazing speed. I want to shout, but I cannot articulate a single word. I close my eyes hard and try to believe it is just another fantastic dream produced by the dark chocolate goodies. I cover my head with the pillow.

 

A few seconds later, I open my eyes completely. Now, I see five tortoises in line in the opposite corner of the room by the end of the bed. It looks like they guard the space. Barefooted, I get up and walk quietly along the hallway towards the back of the house; silent, I take a peak inside my Grandma's bedroom.

 

My heart beats wildly; in the middle of her bedroom, two giant reddish brown cockroaches clean themselves the way many insects do. One cockroach almost doubles in size the second insect on the left; I think the bigger cockroach is the one that visited my room a few minutes ago. Suddenly, the smaller roach swivels and discovers my presence. I fly more than run along the hallway back to the protection of my bed. I bundle inside a roll with the blanket. I am shacking from tip to toes.

 

“Henry, my child, calm down, sleep well.” Grandma's voice sounds close near my head.

 

Inside my improvised cocoon, I feel panic and cry in silence; soon, I feel the need to release myself. No way, I am getting out of bed to go to the washroom in the middle of the night. I have no better alternative; I pee on the spot in my pyjama pants. The rest of the night, I keep my eyes wide open and focused on the light reflection by the doorway; as soon as I see daylight, I plan to get dressed and run home.

 

After grabbing the $10, I open the entrance door as quiet as possible; then, I want to close it behind in the same manner. Two deep green eyes above make me jump.

 

“My dear Captain, you go and have a great day. Don't ever forget Grandma and I love you.” Aunt Lola's voice has a melancholic and pleading tone.

 

Suddenly, I discover a profound pain in her green eyes. “Aunt Lola, I love you too with my life, always remember it.” I turn and run towards my home; it is Monday, I have to shower and get ready for school.

 

At the end of the day, my Dad takes me for a walk in the park and explains that it won't be long for me to turn into another giant cockroach and go out in the night exterminating bad guys. That is the purpose for the recipe of the Amazonian purple tea created by the mysterious tribe of the rain forest. My Dad told me to be happy; after all, we are family.

 

THE END

 

Juan Antonio Perez Gamez, was born in Caracas, Venezuela, June 03-1947. He has been a resident of Canada since 1988.  He has four children, three boys and a girl, all with a university education.  Foreign High School student, Michigan and Louisiana 1961-64. Two years at the Naval Academy of Venezuela, two years of Economics at Central University of Venezuela.  Numerous English and Business courses and seminars in Venezuela, US and Canada; York University, Humber College, Central University of Venezuela, Sheridan College, etc.

Job experiences: International oil trading (Venezuelan Oil Company), Owner/manager of Screen printing operation, GM of a printing Canadian operation, Insurance sales (Millionaires Club), Spanish-English translations, etc.  Inventor of a raised printing process for the blind (US Patent 1993).

Hobbies: Oil painting and outdoors.

Formal writing for three years. Different outdoor websites (reports/Flash stories).

First short story “I MISS HER” published on December 2005 issue of www.longstoryshort.us .  Last published “MANCHA” this summer in http://www.storyhouse.org/

Active member of zoetrope: eleven short story drafts – reviews, over eighty nine shorts and nine flash.