Metamorphosis II

His antennae jerking back and forth, Twitchy approached me.

He said, “New bunch of humans moving in, Franz. Lay low.”

I scoffed. “You know who you’re talking to? ‘Lay low’ is my middle name.” No one sees me. I stay out of sight. Haven’t seen the light of day in years.

Twitchy stopped short. “You have a middle name? How many names do you have?”

“Only two. I was joking about the middle.”

“Everyone I know has the same one. Call out, ‘Hey Roach!’ and everyone looks up. Two names is excessive.”

“Right. Well, my great-great-grandfather, or somebody passed the name down… Franz Kaka. Don’t know the exact story,”

Twitchy moved on. “Gotta tell the others…”

It was funny. Old Twitch looked a lot like me. So much that we could be brothers. Could be… Same reddish-brown complexion. You know how it goes…

Most humans are lumbering, grotesque fools. Towering over us, I never knew how they stayed upright. Of course, if they started drinking, forget it. Some of my cousins have a story. A bunch of them swarmed over a mess of beer bottles strewn around after a human party. When the humans awoke, the roaches couldn’t escape. They kept staggering and falling over. It was a massacre.

I wouldn’t miss the old tenants. They were the worst, even for humans. The constant shouting, banging and general commotion was bad enough. But the constant spraying of poison, sweeping up, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning…

It was too much.

They even cleaned their toaster. Who cleans the toaster? Barely a few crumbs left for us lowly creatures… It’s insane. Even puppies get scraps from the table…

We’d huddle under the floorboards. They’d thunder around the house; our own personal earthquake.

But Clara? No. She walked like a whisper. That’s how she found me…

You may not know this, but cockroaches don’t have wings. We don’t fly.

However, once, when cornered, I had to innovate. I leapt from the counter and flattening my body like an airfoil, I eluded that lowly human’s attempt to squash me. Taking turns, I retracted my legs on one side and stretched out the others. That created enough drag for me to zig zag down and away.

I became a celebrity here in Roachville for about five minutes. You know how it goes. Survival being primary, they forgot what I did. I tried training them, but they couldn’t see the big picture.

“Thanks, but gotta hide. Humans, you know…” Really? No vision, right? Bunch of roaches.

Before the new couple moved in, the landlord cleaned up, more or less. Don’t think he knew about us. Either way, he left us alone.

The new humans arrived with a bed and not much else. The guy, Brad, carried the woman, Clara, over the threshold. There was nothing wrong. She wasn’t injured. One more weird human tradition, is all.

But you should have heard them laugh. They were definitely a fun couple. They sang to each other. They hugged and cuddled so much that some roaches thought there was only one of them.

Of course, they were huge. All humans are gigantic. They don’t all look alike, but I couldn’t tell you what makes one pretty and the other not. These two looked like humans. That’s all I know. No doubt they liked each other.

When they weren’t singing and dancing, they spent most of their home time rolling around on the bed. Left us alone. Fine with me.

Clara was personally clean but not big on cleaning. She spent more time in the bathroom than in the kitchen. It paid off. Everything about her smelled good. Flowers filled her dresser.

Cooking wasn’t her strong suit either. She had no system. Sometimes, the dinner got burned. The smoke alarm would shriek. They’d go out. Other times, she left food out. More for us.

I thought she had a warm spot in her heart for us. Or so it seemed.

Roaches are peaceable. We never fight. Everyone gets along. We stick to business.

Always at war, humans lay waste to our population. It has ever been thus. To what end? They are loud, noxious giants who dominate every corner of our existence. And not in a good way.

Despite being a plague on us poor cockroaches, they also provide so much. We thrive when they leave their waste lying around. And we clean up after them. Imagine what would happen if we weren’t around. The vermin it would attract? Who wants rats? Nasty things.

Humans should praise us. But they dedicate every moment to eradicating us when we could be allies. We could co-exist in symbiosis.

Clara was different than any typical human. She loved nature and was kind. She bought a bird. She walked around the house singing and the bird echoed her song.

Then she and Brad had a fight. Never heard anything like it. It started small and then got huge. I didn’t understand much of the words they said. His tone said it all. Something about their budget and not eating out all the time. The dispute meandered from one topic to another and back around. It lasted a long time. Brad did most of the talking.

At least no one threw anything.

Clara made a whimpering sound I’d never heard before. She pleaded with Brad, “I want to be loved for who I am…”

That stopped me. What is love? Never heard of it.

I wanted to help her. But, you know, I couldn’t.

What could I do? What could I give her? I had nothing but food, that she’d left out.

Was that love? Did I love her?

Clara was unlike any human I’d ever crawled across. She was sweet.

She kept these perfect, white, silk handkerchiefs in a drawer. A sachet, scented like flowers lay nestled beside them. I’d climb up and in there after they’d gone to sleep. I’d eaten, so I could lie there in my little paradise. I’d doze thinking of Clara. My Clara.

One night, a blinding light hit me. With no warning, Clara pulled the drawer open and stared in terror. I’d never seen her eyes so wide. The flashlight shook in her hand.

Silent at first, a strange groan came from her. It welled up and filled the room. She couldn’t stop screaming and pointing. At me.

I’d never heard such consuming rage and fear all at once. The house shook. I froze.

I saw the light. Clara didn’t love me. Not for who I was. Not at all. I had to go.

I knew what she thought of me. Shamed for being nothing but a roach, I had no recourse. I ran. I didn’t look back. Never saw her again.