Diary of a Maggot (2 page)

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Authors: Robert T. Jeschonek

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In answer to her question, I sing the first verse of our secret song. The one I can't tell you about. It reminds her of who we are and what we believe. It convinces her to see the sense in hiding instead of fighting the great
Beast
.

We all join together for the second verse, our voices rising in perfect harmony. Our spirits soar.

Then, suddenly, we hear the boots approaching overhead--BOOM BOOM BOOM--and we stop singing. Something crashes
at the top of the staggered hills
ide, slamming open
...and the
Beast
descends.

We need to move instantly, but the sound of the murderous monster freezes us in place for precious seconds.
We gape at the hillside, waiting for the horror, the one who massacred our
beloved brothers and sisters, as if we're waiting for a storm or the end of the world.

T
hen, he appears.
He lumbers down the hillside, weighed down by what he's carrying out in front of him: a huge pot, billowing with steam. He carries it with both hands
hidden away inside bulky brown mitts.

Whatever he's got there, it won't be good news for us maggots. That much, I know.

Leaping into action, I bark
orders to the crowd, snapping them out of their
trancelike state.
I tell them to
run
as fast as they can for the farthest, deepest holes they can find.
Run
and
hide
and don't come
out
until I give the word
.

I thump my tail on the
cold,
gray plain, and the others
scatter
at the signal.
The ring of maggots around me bolts off in all directions, seeking shelter from the not-dead
Beast
.

Only the tiniest maggot remains at my side. She says she'll never let me out of her sight again.

BOOM BOOM BOOM. Just then, the
Beast
stomps down the final levels of the hillside and onto the gray plain.
He is here.

Death has come for us again.

"Time to
die,
maggots!" The
Beast
laughs, his monstrous voice cutting to the core of me. "Time to
drown
in
boiling water!
"

I don't understand the sounds he makes, but the menace in his voice is clear. I start backing away
, and the tiniest maggot moves with me.

The
Beast
places one mitt-covered hand under the pot, grips the rim with the other, and slowly tips it. Steaming water pours out in a sparkling stream, spattering on the gray plain at his feet. Running across the rough surface toward my fleeing brothers and sisters.

They can't move fast enough.
They sense the hot liquid rolling toward them, and they redouble their pace, but they can't get away.

I almost shoot in their direction, as if I could help. Because
they're my family, and I can't bear to see and hear what comes next.

The tide of death rushes over them, cooking them alive. Plumes of steam spiral upward as their
innards boil within their bubbling skin. A chorus of screams pierces the air, rising to heights of agony, then descending into choked gurgles and last gasps.

But the smell is the worst part of it. The smell of boiled meat, strong and sharp, rippling over the gray plain. It makes me sick.

Because it makes me hungry.

"Take that!" The
Beast
roars louder than ever, dumping out more super-heated water. "That'll teach ya' to mess with
my
kill!"

The water cascades over more of my brothers and sisters. More screams rip through the air. More maggots die at the hands of the giant horror.

I've seen enough. Spinning, I flash across the plain with the tiniest maggot by my side, zooming toward a massive white
cliff--one of four that surround the gray plain
. Trying to block out
the anguished wailing of my beloved family as the water sears their bodies, melting their organs.

Now t
hey will never soar.
The thought of it makes me want to weep. Makes me want to charge after the
Beast
and throw my life away in a futile
stab at revenge.

But I keep running instead. Gliding across the grayness, shooting toward a tiny hole in the base of the cliff.

I'm racing for my life.
Hoping against hope
that
there's no steaming current flowing up from behind me, about to
scorch my white body into a shriveled knuckle of dead gray snot.

The
Beast
howls with delight. "
Die,
you little pricks!
Die!
" And then he stops. "Damn!"

The next sound I hear is the metal pot
clanging down on the plain.
Empty.

"At least I
killed
all you sons a'
bitches
before I ran outta
water!
" I hear him kick the pot, sending it flying.

The pot
hurtles over
us
, then crashes aga
inst the white cliff up ahead
.
It bounces off the craggy stone and flashes toward us, spinning in midair.

It's coming straight for us.
Without warning the tiniest maggot beside me, I veer off hard to one side, steering her with me.
I wriggle as fast as I can, speeding across the plain, and she keeps up without hesitation.

I think the pot might still hit us. I feel the wind pushing ou
t ahead of it, sense the
metal rolling
after us. How could I imagine we might escape
in the midst of all this killing
?

But we do.
The pot slams down behind us, then bounces off in another direction. We're unscathed.

We keep racing along our new path. I see a towering wood
en
post up ahead with a crack at the bottom, and I set my sights on this new refuge.

"
Damn damn damn!
" roars the
Beast
. "I
missed
a few!"

His earth-shaking bootfalls boom toward us. We race toward the post, pressing toward our only hope for survival.

BOOM BOOM BOOM.
"Freakin'
maggots!
" He's almost upon us. "Stinkin'
worms!
"
BOOM BOOM BOOM.

Just a little further now. Our rippling muscles whisk us toward the precious shelter.

And then he's right behind us! One boot blasts down from above, catching us in its shadow...

But when it drops, we're in the crack in the post.
Safe.

"
Damnit!
" The
Beast
explodes with rage, kicking the post with terrible force. "
That's
it!
" He kicks it again. "You
won't
get away from
me!
"

One more shuddering kick, and then he storms off across the plain.
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM.
Then up the staggered hillside.
BOOM BOOM BOOM.
And thunders away overhead, into the distance.

Boom Booom Boom Boom Boom.

I turn to the tiniest maggot. We're both out of breath, bodies heaving from the
harrowing escape.

Are we the last survivors? That's what she asks me. Is everyone else dead?

I
think so, but I don't say it.

He's coming back, isn't he?
Her chirping whistle quavers on the verge of hysteria
. He's coming back to
kill
us.
What do we do now?

I think harder than I've ever thought in my life. Dig deeper than I've ever had need to dig. I reach for any idea that might keep us alive.

I close my eyes and think of soaring. Wonder if I'll ever fulfill that glorious dream and take to the air. If only I could do that now, I would fly away from here and never come back.

Imagine the Beast's surprise to see me swoop past
and disappear into the night sky. Imagine the shock of
realizing that
one he thought dead had sprung back to life.

That's it.

With newfound purpose, I dart from the crack in the post and scoot over the plain. The tiniest maggot protests as she trails after me, squeaking in my wake. She doesn't want to abandon our shelter.

I don't stop to explain. She'll understand soon enough.

Singing out as loud as I can, I call for any surviving brothers and sisters. I cry out across the field of devastation, trying to ignore the hundreds of maggot corpses scattered around me.

At first, I think there are no survivors. I sing, I
wail, I whistle...and still, there is nothing.

Then, finally, an
answer.
The chirp of a single blessed maggot, trilling over the wasteland. Then another, then another.

I count ten. Ten left out of hundreds.

But ten's better than none. Enough, maybe, to do what must be done.

I call the survivors together and tell them to meet me.
We head for the rendezvous from all directions, trailing through the now-tepid water that pools on the plain.

When we reach the rendezvous point, I tell the others to follow me. Then, I slither up from the plain onto the pile of flesh
on which we once fed...t
he
mound of rotting meat that hit the ground
when the bag fell apart.

I lead the others over the rugged fleshscape, pitted by the gnawing
s
of our once-
great family. We squirm between knobs of bone and cartilage, climbing ever further toward the goal I have in mind.

We surge up over a final
slope
, and there it is.
One eye,
closed forever in final repose.

Or not.

I sing out orders to my troops, and we
bend to our task. Six of us crawl up to the eyelid of that one eye. The other six hurry over a sharp ridge to the other eye.

I whistle a signal, and we get to work. Six of us squirm up under the lid of each eye.

Just as we get in position, the thunderous
booming approaches overhead. Gets closer and closer, until it's almost as loud as the pounding of my heart.

Then, the Beast clomps down the staggered hillside again. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. Across the great gray plain. Coming closer, ever

BOOM BOOM BOOM.

c
loser.

And then he stops. I hear his boots scuff the plain beside the pile of meat where we're waiting.

He shakes something, and it clatters like rattling bones. "Come out, come out, maggots! Time for a
bug spray
party!" There's a hissing sound, and more clattering. "
Time for
you
to
die!
Then
I
can get back to
getting this
body
out of my
basement.
"

The tiniest maggot twitches beside me
under the eyelid
. I press against her, holding her still. Waiting for just the right moment.

"I
know
there
're
more
of you down here." The Beast clomps away from us. I hear more clattering
and
hissing.
"I'm gonna
kill
every last
one
of you."

There's more clattering, far away this time. More hissing, too.

My
five
brothers and sisters and I huddle close together under the eyelid.
Our survival is uncertain. Sooner or later, he'll come back around...and the future's murky after that. It's hard to imagine
that
such tiny creatures as we could somehow vanquish someone so enormous. So
relentless.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, the Beast works his way back
to us. The clattering and hissing that come with him
grow louder
.

Almost time now, I think.
I nudge the rigid form of the tiniest maggot beside me, priming her for action.
She grunts, then
chirp-whistles
a little tune of eager readiness.

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