Chapter 21
Bats or Butterflies?
“Jane! Bring a sheet.”
“Mom, I’ll throw one to the landing! I’m not coming downstairs!”
“Aaah!” Patrick was jumping from couch to couch trying to avoid the bat.
“Son, stay down low, stay still.
He’ll leave you alone.”
His father shouted from the kitchen doorway.
Patrick ducked between the chair and the couch.
This bat extraction had turned into a real family-team effort.
A white sheet hit the landing between floor levels.
I jumped after it, totally overreacting to the presence of the bat.
Like a flag, the sheet unfurled between me and Robert.
The bats in Panama were actually fruit bats.
And they were much bigger than vampire bats.
They were totally vegetarian and we knew that.
But, even as adults, we had to work hard not to appear scared in front of the kids.
“You take that corner!” I yelled.”
I learned this technique in Germany when I was trying to shoo bees out of my open windows.
“I’ve got it! Let me get it up high!”
Robert wrapped the fitted sheet around the end of the broom. That gave enough height to our cloth wall to walk the bat right back out the front door.
Patrick followed behind us.
“Yes! It’s working! Jane, you can come down now!” I shouted. No answer.
“It’s safe now, Jane.” Her dad added.
“No, thank you. I’m good.”
I gathered the sheet for the dirty clothes and watched as the bat went toward the carport light in hopes of a delicious bug dinner.
It was eighty degrees out and I had the shivers.
A few days later, we were in the emergency room.
The emergency room saw its share of the Jackson family.
This time it was Patrick’s turn.
“I don’t know what happened! His feet started burning.
I wouldn’t call it blisters, but he thinks his skin is on fire.”
“He was at the pool?”
“Earlier today. We came here from there.”
“Patrick, I’m Dr. Kims.”
“Hello.” His voice was shaky, but he had no tears.
“It’s good to meet you. Could you tell me…
How did you jump into the pool?
Did you dive?
Cannonball?”
“No, I just used the edge and went in feet first.
They don’t let you dive from the sides.”
“Thank you, Patrick.
I’ve got a cream for you to put on the area.”
“You know what caused this?”
“Butterflies, indirectly.”
“We haven’t been around butterflies.”
“But the butterflies have toxins and pollen on their wings, they land in the pool water, and the chemicals wash off the butterflies and lay on top of the water.”
“He swims all the time. This hasn’t happened before.”
“They skim the top of the pool just before they open, or they are supposed to.”
“So, this is common. My kids have been swimming in butterfly dust?”
“Not really, the skimmers clear it all out, the butterflies stay away from the water if people are splashing in the pool. From the looks of the waiting room, I’ve got a lot more kids coming in.”
“Wow, Mom, butterfly burns?”
“It looks that way, Patrick.
Does the cream help any, son.”
“Not yet.”
“Patrick, it’s not the butterflies, it’s the dust on their wings. It washes off when the butterflies land on the water.” The doctor corrected my information.
He capped the cream and continued.
“It would help if you asked the pool attendant if it has been skimmed before you jump in next time. Can you remember to do that for us?”
“I don’t really want to go back.”
He still wasn’t crying.
I didn’t know as a parent if I should be proud or concerned about that.
The doctor got down at Patrick’s level.
“You wear a helmet when you ride your bike.
You chew your food carefully when you eat.
Skimming the pool is like that.
You shouldn’t stop doing something fun just because you have to think about being safe first.”
He shook his head yes, then smiled.
The doctor stretched his hand out in my direction offering the cream to me.
“Sign out at the desk, you can take that tube home with you.”
“Thank you Dr. Kims.”
“Swim safe.”
Daniel's Den 