NIGHT: By David Kernot
Friday, April 29th, 2011A noise woke Damien. He pushed aside gross images of crawling maggots that wouldn’t let go; from blowfly lava Alice squashed into his eyes earlier. He rubbed them, gritty and sore, and listened, wondering what woke him.
Small legs scurried across his face. He sat upright, swiping it away, worry about spiders foremost, and threw the side lamp on. Alice lay on her back, mouth wide open, sleeping. Concern knotted in his stomach as he searched under bed covers, and blankets. Maggots had been bad enough, but a pregnant spider, eager to lay her eggs somewhere safe? He shuddered at the thought of hundreds of spiders hatching while they slept, each giving a poisoned bite.
Whatever woke him might be hiding in Alice’s long blonde hair, a mass over the pillow, or under the purple satin nightie that failed to cover her modesty? Should he wake her, tired as she was from shift work? The gentle rise and fall of her chest, said no, so he continued the search, lifting the sheet from her. Since the cooler weather, spiders inundated their house, large brown wolf spiders, red-backs, and the aggressive flesh-eating spiders, small, black and hard to hard to catch. He hoped for a harmless bug.
A dark shape peeked out from the sheets, it scuttled across the linen alongside Alice, shiny and brown, and he shuddered when the large cockroach, flicked its long antennae with military precision. This was the biggest mother of a roach he’d seen, and it glowed bright and luminescent.
It clambered onto Alice’s arm, up along to her neck, and paused in the shallow depression at the base of her throat. Its antennae rose as it turned a circle, uncaring, and it considered its options: journey down into the valley between Alice’s breasts and forage on dead skin, or climb up over her face, amongst the long strands of hair and gorge on tiny flakes of dandruff. Either way, Damien needed it gone. Another shudder took him; as he remembered roaches fed off the scum around toilet seats.
It moved; down towards Alice’s breasts. Damien leaned forward, hand outstretched to scoop it away, but it turned from him, scurried up her neck with increased pace, just ahead of his outstretched hand. Damien lunged, tried to swipe it away, but again it found a spot between her face and pillow. He moved closer, leaning over Alice and wondered how to remove it without waking her. The roach ran up onto her chin and stopped in a perfect position to flick it away. He locked his finger in the crook of his thumb and advanced on the filthy roach. It ran, and disappeared into Alice’s open mouth. His throat tightened in disgust.
Alice coughed and woke with a start. Eyes wide, she sat up and gagged.
“Bad dream?” He brushed away his revulsion.
She coughed again, and pulled a face. “I’ll say.”
He saw her glance over his shoulder and frown.
“Why’s the light on?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he lied.
“Coming back to bed?”
“Yes,” he said, unable to find courage to mention her midnight snack. He lay back down, away from her.
“What about a goodnight kiss?”
He froze. The image of the cockroach foraging on her stomach contents was foremost in his mind. “It’s late.”
“Don’t you love me any more?”
He sighed and turned back to face her. “Of course I do.” He sat and leaned forward to kiss her lips, but the thought of her coughing up the roach, or it crawling into his mouth was too much. At the last moment he turned and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
He rubbed his eyes and groaned. “Night.”
“You’re still angry … about the maggots?”
He shook his head in response and squeezed her hand. It was better she didn’t know.
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©2011 David Kernot
David Kernot is an Australian writer. He has work published with MicroHorror, AlienSkin Magazine, AntipodeanSF, The Specusphere, and Positive Words Magazine. He can be found behind a large Mountain Ash desk, surrounded by pictures of the Flinders Ranges, editing his unpublished books, Seventeen Souls, and books one and two of The Kingdom of Isalde. More information can be found at www.davidkernot.com
