COLLECTED PHOBIAS 2

COLLECTED PHOBIAS
A manuscript of short stories by Granny Annie
(Written as bedtime stories for my children in the 80's)

JUNE BUGS

How dare they appear now?  It was May.  If they were June bugs they should have waited until June to make their annual debut.  They reminded Clarence of huge bumble bees.  He hated bees.  He hated all insects.  He drove to town from his secluded country home and listened to the damned bugs bombard his car like machine gun fire. 

Clarence could not remember another year as bad for the nuisance bugs.  His rain barrel was full of them.  They clogged the guttering on his house.  They struck his window screens and were embedded in every tiny hole.  Clarence spent his evenings tracking down the few bold bugs that dared enter his home.  It was thrilling entertainment for Clarence to sit and slowly pull off their wings and legs and then smash them and watch their bodies burst like overstuffed balloons.

Clarence parked in one of the many available spaces in front of Pilgrim's Bar.  He waited for the bugs to clear like a person would wait for the rain to ease.  They buzzed and swirled in the lighted parking lot.  Clarence took a deep breath, covered his head  with one arm and kept the other arm free to wave away the bugs as he rushed through the door.  The obnoxious bugs crawled on the floor inside the bar. 

Jake Stafford called a welcome to Clarence. Clarence only grunted, "Can't ya do somethin' bout the bugs in here?" Instead of bothering to respond, Jake simply placed the first of many beers in front of Clarence.

As Clarence drank he watched the dance floor.  The sound of June Bugs crunching beneath the dancer's feet seemed to grow louder than the music.

When it was time to close up Jake and one of his buddies poured a wasted Clarence into his car.  They knew the drunk would sleep it off in the parking lot tonight.  They put the keys in the sleeping man's pocket so Clarence would be able to find them easily in the morning.

The night was calm and quiet except for the intermittent thumping of June Bugs hitting the old white Buick.  One by one they began to attach themselves like glue to the battered vehicle.  A passerby would have mistaken this car for brown.  June bugs covered and crowded every inch.

Jake told the police that Clarence' car was gone when he opened the place at 11:00 the next morning.  He naturally assumed Clarence had awakened and driven home.  Jake never imagined Clarence and his car would disappear, never to be seen again. 

Patrons of Pilgrim's Bar still speculate about the disappearance.


EAGHL © 2017

Next Saturday OLD AUNT BEULAH