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ecotone99 · 5 years

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The Insect Man [HR]

Auckland. A hot day. Hot as a wet woollen sweater day. Over a chair. Wet, smoking in the sun. Low buzz. In the background. High buzzing. A lot of this. Hum as insects spin in lazy arcs through the hazy sun. Flies swooping, cutting in long arcs. Climbing, dropping. Clambering up the bark of sweating pines. Cicadas making their love call. Desperate and confident as a brick wall is unceasing. Carapaces cracking open like dry pastry in the oven. Leaving behind colourless ghosts, still clinging in time to the old one, dry as summer leaves.

A cool breeze blows off the suburban neighbourhood. Hot air off black tarmac. Sabine wipes her hand on the back of her wrist and draws it slowly along her forearm. The sweat pools and drips off her fingers. She thanks God for the breeze then bends down to scoop up the sheet for the line. Alan lies stretched out on the lawn like a snow angel. In dark sun goggles, he stares straight up, still as a sleeper in the depths of a dream. As she watches affected, a fly banks hard from a speedy pass, ending up on her son's face. Disrupted, he lifts a hand to shoo it away before letting his hand slump back onto the grass. She loves days like this, Sabine thinks to herself.

Later. Tonight.

"Unfortunately I interrupt tonights programmed programme to inform you of the murder, most gross and foul, of 3 dogs in your local area. After a crime wave of dog murders in your neighborhood, three more were found brutally stabbed to death. This leaves us with a total of 6 murdered pets in Mt. Eden over the last 3 months. If you have a pet, we highly recommend making sure the animal stays inside the house when you are not there, and that you keep a close eye on them while you are at home”.

Sabine watches her son.

“Mum, why can’t we get a dog?”

Sabine looks at her son, closely.

“How do you mean, dumpling?”

“I mean, I want a dog. Can we get one?”

“Well..” I’m distracted by something. What are the words? What do I say when this happens? I mean, “Maybe darling. Maybe one day.” Maybe works, but

Alan squirms like something’s wriggling its way out of him. A parasite that’s found water. “I really want one. I really want one Mum. I know it would be good for me”. He leans. Looking into his hands as though they held something he was unable to put into words. He is so very sincere.

“What do you.. Why do you want a dog, my love?”

“Because it would be amazing! And I could feed it, I would take it for walks!” He is like bubbles now. So sure of themselves. When did I lose that?

Sabine laughs, and notices the deep vibrations of the guffaw. Her chin so high. She looks. Her eyes crumple and skin crinkles. She beams. She loves him. Right? That’s what this is? Love? He is like a completion of her. Somehow. She basks but stops: “We will see, my darling. OK?”

“Awesome” (he knows this is false hope). He smiles like it’s certainty.

She feels that bravery. He is so brave. “You have Crookshanks” Sabine murmurs, enquiring.

“Yeah but he’s your cat Mum.”

Sabine is taken back.

“What? He’s ours! We’re a team!”

“I know.”

“It’s the three of us!”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What’s wrong with Crookshanks?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Crookshanks. I love Crookshanks!” And at that moment both Mother and Son look across to the beanbag, where Crookshanks lay, and Crookshanks looked back. Crookshanks stretched right out, paws pushing, stomach stretched to its most shuddering maximum. “You’re a good one, Crookshanks.” Alan stating, rubbing Crookshanks’ tummy with an open hand.

“You’d just like a dog.”

“Yeah.”

Alan was beautiful.

Another day. Fine weather. Hot. Breakfast dishes done, I look outside for Alan.

“Ants, Mum!”

I walk around the bench to the sliding doors.

“Mum, a big line”.

I arrive at the sliding doors, stepping past Crookshanks coming in the other way. When I look up there is Alan, he stares at the ground with an upright fastidiousness. Rigid bodied, a long spit drools out of his mouth. It stretches and gathers momentum before snapping. A large glob falls down and splats soundlessly on the concrete tile.

“I got some of them”.

“Ok, love.” Sabine moves back to the house.

“I’m gonna boil some water!” Alan calls to her. “Kill them all!”

Empty plate and a handful of grubs and a man in a black and white suit at the end of a hallway. Flowers down the walls but the flowers die as I move towards him. Time to get up. Time to go. Weird dreams. Wake up. Get up. Get out of bed. Help myself to the cerea- no the coffee. Need the coffee first. Go have a shower, wake Alan up. Drop him to school. Drive. Cold morning. Weird because summer. Maybe I should bring some gloves tomorrow. Park in right space. Not too far away, have to carry the files. Haaaaaah. Stop. Breathe for a bit. I’m 12 minutes early. Don’t need to get out of the car quite yet. Breathe. What a beautiful morning. But I’ve got a lot to do. These houses. Beautifully well made. And the birds. Oh shit, meeting at 8.15. Ok, no, leaving car now c’mon let’s go. Get into the office.

“Hi Jan”

“Hi Sabine”.

“Did you hear about the murders?”

“Of the dogs, yeah!”

“Yeah that bit of the dogs, oo actually I heard something about that, but nah only I meant the police officer”

“A policeman died?”

“Yeah another shoot up”

“Drug dealer or something?”

“Something like that, yeah. Out in Papakura.”

“Wow. Heavy summer.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Yeah, that’s right. You’ve brought the boxes.”

“Yeah, God I’m sweating”. Shouldn’t blaspheme.

“You’re alright, put ‘em over here.”

“Putting!”

Jan stops and puts her hand on her hips. She can’t help but smile at that one.

“You’re a doll, Sabine.”

“Move over Wonder Woman I say.”

“Too bloody right. Now let’s get to separating.”

I get home and Alan’s not there. He’s not home he’s taking his sweet time walking home from school. Maybe got the wrong bus stop. I mean Alan is fine and it’s about time anyway he feels ok wandering about doing his own thing. Can’t have his mother stressing him out. Like I don’t trust him or something. He’s not home and I feel a bit empty. Almost feel like making a sandwich. Where could he be. You better tell him he lets you know in future about this sort of thing. After school plans, he’d tell me. I’d know. But what if it’s friends. Or a girl? C’mon he’s much too young

And weird

What the hell? No he’s perfect.

The kid likes steam punk, Sabine. Face it, he’s gunna be a long time leaving the nest.

God, I must be hungry, I need a sandwich-

“Hey Mum”.

Alan was stood in the doorway one hand holding the doorframe, the other lingering at the bike helmet on his head. The hand, hovering, snatched at the clasp and ripped the helmet off. The fingers, like at the wheel; driving themselves. While his eyes, gazing big and round, swam on up at her.

“I went for a bike ride for a bit. What’s for dinner?”

“Ooh I don’t know, maybe curry perhaps?”

“Yay!”

The thump thump of his trundling down the hall. The slap of a bag landing on a bed. The meowed complaint from a disrupted crookshanks.

That night we watched TV. A new season of a reality show. The Block? I like these ones because Alan’s finally at an age where we can watch something together that we are both interested in. It’s nice sharing that with him. I remember thinking that I was disappointed in this most recent season. I felt like they were spending too much time on all the arguments all the couples were having. I don’t like that for Alan. Maybe we need to watch something else. Maybe a cooking show. There’s that Australian one where kids compete. Masterchef? Isn't there a kids Masterchef?

“Where were you tonight, honey?” I asked, trying to be subtle, nonchalant.

“When Mum?”

“After school. I beat you home. Where’d you go?” “I don’t remember.”

Then he went away in his eyes.

“I was following a butterfly.” He said finally. “I just rode around.. ” But his sentence sort of went up like he wasn’t sure. Then he went away again. Where are you, Alan? Perhaps it’s teenage hormones kicking in. Metamorphosis stage.

WHACK. Brakes on. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

Sabine’s Silver Audi A4 slammed to a standstill stock stuck in the middle of Abbots Way. A strong ringing buzzes in her ears. Smoke from the tires. You can smell them. Thank God there was no one behind her. What made her stop?

Smudged all down the windscreen. The remains of a tiny being. One segmented leg twitches, toyed by the breeze, amid a splatter of lime green guts and dark brown shell chunks. Breathe out. Goddamn heart is racing. Don’t Blaspheme. Twitching like a beckoning finger against her windscreen. That and some wavering, ripped torso are the only things left to tell you what it once was, basically. Beckoning. Twitching.

HONK.

Sabine’s head snaps around, her heart starting again. Oh gosh, I’m in the middle of the God damn road, I need to get on going, what an idiot

More screeching brakes.

SLAM.

“FUCK!”

A red Toyota 4WD had pulled out of the road to get around her and an oncoming car ploughed straight into the front tire. A shattering crunch showered and skidding tires complained against stone in the ink dark of the main road. The Nissan Tiida was practically bounced back as it collided, vollying metal and plastic chunks. The two cars slid away from each other like struck in thick muck, slithering backward to a violent stop. Noses both facing Sabine’s. Reaching for her door handle, Sabine opened her door. She held her door for a moment, before swinging herself out. Through weak knees she walked forward. She was perhaps 6 or 7 metres away from the crash. She looked back at a car coming to stop behind hers, the face of its driver screwed up in disbelief. Sabine managed a little wave of her hand to communicate.. something? Sabine lurched ahead. The woman in the red toyota was shocked and stunned.

“I-I was watching you, you stopped so violently, I wasn’t looking when I pulled out” said the woman; tousled hair spilling out of her follicles. An auburn waterfall, shaking as she shakes.

Sabine loses strength in her chest. Like being winded.

“God, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” Sabine stumbles. She looks back to see the driver from the car behind hers moving briskly toward the Nissan. “Do you need me to call the police?”

“Yes please”. Nodding, shaking. “Thank you. God it happened so fast. Why did you stop?”

Sabine stopped and stared. Why?

“I hit a..”

A what?

“A bug, thing.. It made such a noise. I thought I’d hit something.”

The brown haired lady looked fierce now.

“Don’t worry, I’ll call the police.” Another lady from the car stopped behind Sabine’s.

The brown haired driver of the Toyota, got out of the car, gingerly and quick, and moved toward the Nissan, who’s front was very worse for wear.

Sabine moved aside and wanted to go with her. But she felt if she looked too far into that smashed car she would be sick. Its driver was a young indian woman with a large nose and a white shirt. She was leaning just out of the drivers door. Not knowing what to do, and feeling exposed, Sabine sat in her car and waited for the police to arrive.

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