The house was quiet. My mom had just turned off the living room light and shuffled off to bed. My sister was hunched over her computer, hard at work on an essay. From the kitchen, I could hear the steady tick-tick-tick of the clock. Life was as it should be.
The day had faded into night only a few hours ago. Where once the sky had been splotches of orange and violet now hung tiny specks of stars.
I stepped out to backyard and sipped the cool air. Without another moment wasted, I set to work, filling the water bucket for watering the garden. That was when I spotted the first slug.
This was the first time I’d found a slug in my backyard in the 5-6 years that I’ve lived in this house, so I was immediately intrigued. Things were changing. The monotony of everyday life was finally grinding to a stop. A new era had dawned.
But I didn’t want the slug to devour my Dad’s newly planted flowers. Just imagining its booger-colored body creeping across their leaves, leaving a trail of slime and freshly chewed holes sent a shiver down my back. What to do? What to do?
It didn’t take long for me to decide on the slug’s fate. We humans were here first, so it’s got to go.
Bent on throwing it over the back wall into the park lot behind our house, I pushed it onto a leaf, bid it farewell, and in 3…2…1!!! launched it clean into the air. But to my utter surprise, the leaf didn’t make it over the wall and neither did the slug. The poor, confused thing went up and then plopped straight down. I could literally imagine it shrieking as it plummeted at 20, 30, or 60 miles/hour into the hard earth.
Try as I might, I couldn’t find it. The slug population had lost a good soldier that night. In my defeat, I went back to the backyard sink to finish filling up the water bucket.
Lo and behold! There was another slug situated on the wall, chilling like its bro.
So I pushed it onto a leaf and tried to toss it over the wall again, only this time standing on a planter. I reckoned now, with my height advantage and familiarity with the physics of snails, surely my mission would succeed.
Alas, I miscalculated the trajectory again. Slug 2 went flying but in the wrong direction. It went straight down, and this time into my dad’s flowers.
After that I decided to leave all slugs and snails and whatever creepy-crawlies I find the backyard in peace. I suppose all victories, whether they belong to humans or slugs come at a cost.
I never figured out if those two slug bros died or survived. I’d like to imagine they surived, to assuage my guilt. But above all, I’m glad they did not land on my face. Holy moly. If they did, I would have screamed a scream like none Mother Earth has ever witnessed.
May Slug 1 and Slug 2 rest in peace (if, indeed, they are dead).
(Slug 1 enjoying what would be the last few minutes of his peaceful life.)
Hey there, it’s Macy! If you’re new to macythoughts, I encourage you to check out my About page to learn more about who I am and what macythoughts is all about. Also feel free to connect with me via social media. I love meeting new people and would always cherish a new friend.