My Hitchhiker

I had forgotten how persistent the flies are in this part of the world. Big buzzy ones aren’t too bad. You can see them and hear them and ultimately swat them. The Bush Flies are the worst. They swarm all over you, squeeze in through a crack in the screen and fill the car the minute you open a door. However, with windows down and the air conditioner on full blast, they will blow away as you drive off.

Sometimes, though, you get one who defies the norm. Let me tell you about my hitchhiker. This little fellow started in my life as just a nuisance, as I pulled out of my parking spot. I thought he was on the inside of the screen until I flicked him with a towel. (Notice I say ‘he’ – as I am sure that no female of a species would hang around for so long knowing that she is unwelcome.) Not only did he not fly away, he waved one little leg at me. With his suckers in full sucking mode, his other little feet hung on grimly to the outside of the windscreen. I tapped the screen where he clung, I directed cold air onto him, and I swerved back and forth across the quiet country road. I swear he fixed his beady little eyes on me and grinned with utmost evil. For a few kilometres I was totally distracted from the road and focused on the hitchhiker.

I don’t back down from a contest easily. I thrive on competition. I could have outlasted him. I could have outwitted him. I just couldn’t let him make me a traffic hazard if anyone else came up this road. That is why I did what I did, the only reason! I flicked on the windscreen wipers and sent him flying into oblivion. This may sound like self-justification or a petty power struggle. It wasn’t. I was thinking only of other innocent road users. Besides, isn’t hitchhiking illegal?