Our family had been living in the old Tudor house for three months when we
discovered we weren’t alone.

Jack and I and our tabby cat Mr. Max didn’t know about the intruder when we moved
in. In hindsight, I realize it had probably made it’s presence known to the people that
lived there before us. Neither the realtor nor the former owners mentioned a thing.
Buyer beware I suppose. But who ya gonna call when the papers are signed and the
furniture is in place.

It was one of those warm and humid summer nights. With no air conditioning the only
way to tolerate the heat was to place several fans in the bedroom. But it was still
unbearably hot. I fell asleep with one leg sticking out from under a slightly damp sheet.

I awoke in the middle of the night with the terrifying sensation that someone or
something had touched my leg.

'Jack,' I whispered, as I desperately tried to shake him awake. 'Turn on the light.'

'Why?' he groaned.

'Because something hairy just touched my leg.’

'Honey, I swear it wasn’t me.'

'Very funny,' I said, punching his arm. 'I’m not kidding around. Turn on the light.'

He rolled over and flipped the switch.

My eyes slowly adjusted as I scanned the room. Everything seemed normal except for
a strange dusty looking shape hanging from one of the blinds.

‘Honey,’ Jack said, ‘you need to brush up on your housekeeping skills’

'That wasn't there when we went to bed. What is it?' I replied.

'Looks kind of like a bird. Poor thing must have lost it’s way.'

‘How in the world could a bird fly into our house without us noticing?’ I said. ‘That
doesn't make sense’

Suddenly, the bird took flight and grew a foot in length.

'In the name of everything unholy. It's a freaking bat,' Jack cried, now fully conscious.

We both fell out of bed trying to make our way to the door. I grabbed the cat knocking
over a lamp in the process.

'What should we do?' I shouted, even though my husband was standing right next to
me.

Jack was still trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

'It’s a bat. It’s a bat. It’s a big freaking bat.'

'Should we call the police?' I asked.

'The police?' Jack repeated. 'What for? Do you want them to handcuff it and take it
down to the station.' He glanced around the hallway trying to come up with another
solution. Both of us were crouched and ready to duck just in case the creature decided
to fly at our heads.

Every horror story and urban legend I'd ever heard flashed into my mind; biting bats,
rabid bats, poisonous bat guano, blood sucking bats, Dracula, Barnabus Collins.

'I’ve got it’ Jack exclaimed ‘How about sending the cat in there. They hunt stuff don’t
they?'  

I looked down at the tabby who was calmly washing his face.

'Cat’s hunt tiny mice not ten foot bats!’

'Don’t be ridiculous. It’s two feet at the most,' Jack replied.

'You’re not sacrificing Mr. Max to that blood thirsty vampire in there. Isn’t it bad
enough that it took liberties with my leg?'

'Well, do you have a better idea? Because I'll tell you flat out, that thing is not going to
leave unless we give it an escort.'

We both stared at the bedroom door knowing the fur flying monster was waiting for
us. I imagined it squatting on the dresser or hanging off the ceiling fan. Waiting
patiently for another chance to sink it's filthy teeth into tasty white flesh.

'There’s only one thing to do. You have to catch it and throw it out of the house,' I
stated with conviction.

'Me? You want me to catch a ten foot bat? With what, a butterfly net? Are you insane?'
he cried.

'It’s that or allow the thing to stay in the master bedroom. Maybe we should bring it a
cup of hot milk and some cookies before it turns in for the night.'

Tiny beads of sweat were quickly forming on Jack’s forehead.

'It’s too hot for milk. Besides I think bats are nocturnal. Oh man, I’m not making any
sense. Ok, ok, bring me a sheet.'

‘A sheet? What are you going to do with a sheet? I hope you’re not thinking of using
one of my good two hundred count Egyptian cotton sheets to catch that thing in’

Jack looked at me as if I were crazy.

‘Seriously? You're going to argue with me about using the good bedding at a time like
this?’

‘What kind’ I asked.

'Extra large,' he ordered, with new found authority in his voice.

I handed the bed sheet to my husband feeling a sense of pride. He was a warrior going
into battle. A man among men. Willing to step into the black abyss to protect his wife
and narcoleptic cat. He smiled bravely and opened the door.

'Jack, you can do this. Just think of the story you’ll have to tell if you make it through
the night. This is how heroes are made.”

'Right. I’ve got this. Don’t worry honey it’s as good as done. I’m ready to wrestle this
thing. No more Mr. Nice guy. I’m ... '

'Just do it already and try not to stain  the sheet,' I said.

In that moment he looked as if he wanted to strangle me with it.

Jack cautiously entered the room. Keeping his head low and eyes on the nasty prize he
reluctantly shut the door.

The sounds coming out of the bedroom were horrifying. There were loud bangs and
thuds. Curse words stabbed the night air. I held Mr. Max and whispered a fervent
prayer.

Finally my winded and slightly disheveled husband emerged. He had a triumphant look
on his face and the sheet held tight in his fist.

'I caught it. It’s in there. The thing flew right at me. I can't believe it. The bat's inside the
sheet. Game over man, game over. That varmint didn’t have a chance. Not a ... '

'Just take it outside before it chews a hole in the material,' I said, as I accompanied him
to the front door.

I gave him a big kiss as he carried our uninvited guest outside.

'Should we keep the sheet?' he asked.

'Yes,' I answered proudly, 'We’ll place it above the mantel.'



© Wendy L Schmidt

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