Last night I was on my computer, which is on my desk by my aloe vera plant-lined windowsill, when a cicada suddenly came through the window and landed on my desk. This seemed somewhat auspicious to me, as there is a screen on the window and the big 2 ½ “ fly-like bug would have had to have made a maneuver equivalent in skill to the dick through the bottom of the popcorn container from the movie “Diner” to have made it through.
I laughed and with a welcome said, “Hey, brother,” but when I reached to touch him, his sudden loud buzz made me jump like a little schoolgirl who forgot to wear underwear under her skirt as she discovers the pool of blood on the floor by her feet from her first menstruation. [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pnhDl9K49Ks] The cicada buzzed off behind the desk and after a quick glance I thought, “Ah, he can stay. What’s one more freeloader?” as I glanced over at my dog. My dog was not amused.
Soon the cicada started to make his chirping noise and it was unbelievable. It sounded like there were dozens of little Mexicans playing the cucarachas, minus the smell of corn tortillas. How magnificent this cicada played blew me away. The practical side of me then thought, “If he doesn’t shut up when I go to bed I may have to pull out the can of Raid.”
So I was typing away at my computer, enjoying the private show the cicada was providing me, a pleasant change from the private shows I was used to where I had to buy a bottle of champagne for $200 and tip the girl $50 just to rub her thonged ass on my lap for 10-minutes in the back room. He had moved to the standing light and all was beautiful…
That was, until I started to see smoke coming up from the light. I jumped out of my seat and darted to the light switch and turned the light off. I grabbed a wet paper towel and planned to extricate the smoky cicada. He was still alive but one of his wings was half burnt off. I said to him, “What were you thinking—you don’t smoke in an apartment without asking the owner if it is a smoking or non-smoking room!” Seeing the state he was in, I didn’t think he was in the mood for any lectures and so I dropped it and picked him up instead.
Abandon was begging to go out and as any other loving caretaker I told her, “We’ll go when we go,” which left her a bit confused as she thought, “His statement is quite obvious…so why would he make such a statement? Perhaps my human’s not as intelligent as I had given him credit for.” She was justifiably pissed when I told her, “Wait here, I have to take Smokey outside.”
I guided the cicada to the small tree right outside my apartment where Abandon takes multiple pisses each day in a desperate attempt to kill it. With a little prodding he crawled off my finger and onto the branch. He looked kind of sad and I said, “Look, I’d gladly have you stay with us but I don’t think that would be best for you. First of all, I don’t even know what you eat. Leaves? I suppose I could look it up on the Internet and all but…You probably would get annoyed with me telling you to put away your instrument at midnight when you just wanted to play away, no?”
He responded, “If you don’t want me around that’s fine. Just don’t make up some bullshit excuses for it.”
I said, “Okay, I don’t want you around.” I told him I’d check up on him when my I took my dog out later. I asked him why he decided to visit with me and he said he saw me sitting there alone and thought that perhaps I had lost my song, as so many humans seemed to have, and figured if he shared his heart’s song with me that I might remember my own. I smiled and thanked him for his caring and told him that his beautiful song did remind me of my own. With a somewhat serious face he said, “Wouldn’t it be a shame to keep it inside.” I nodded, realizing that he had sacrificed a wing in order to share his song with me.
As I started to walk away, I slowed down and turned around ready to ask one final question. “Up and over,” he said. “That is how I got past the screen. Up and over.” The last puzzle was solved and I thanked him for his beauty and his sharing.