Mozzie Blue
I’m still waiting for more gunfire to erupt; Conner has been inside the house for a while now and that person is still sitting on the porch. I know I should get down there and help him, but this is all so creepy that my legs just refuse to cooperate.
“No bullet wounds.”, says Kimberly, and I turn to see her examining the dead guy. I hadn’t even realized she’d let go of me.
“But look at all these bites.”, she says.
“Hey!”, yells Conner and I almost piss myself. He’s waving us to come down. Kimmy gets right up and starts jogging. My legs are finally ashamed of themselves and begin to propel me forward. When we get to the house Kimmy squeaks out a tentative hello to what turns out to be a woman sitting on the porch. The woman is smiling up at her. Kimmy smiles back.
“Has she said anything?” whispers Kimmy.
“Not much.”, answers Conner, “Doesn’t seem to be anyone else around.”
Kimmy sits down beside the woman and tries to talk to her.
“Have you been shot?”, she asks.
“Kimberly.”, says Conner.
“Do you need help?”, she asks.
“Kimberly.”, says Conner, “She’s dead.”
“But she’s…?”
“Yeah, I know.”
Kimmy checks for blood, any sign of a possible gunshot wound, but all she finds on the woman are bites, and more bites.
“I haven’t checked the shed yet,”, says Conner, holding up a gas mask, “but I’ll wager I know what’s in there. Any takers?”
Since the moment we got to the house I’ve just been staring down at the gigantic handgun in the woman’s lap, certain that at any moment she will jump up and kill us all.
“What?”, I ask, not hearing a single thing anyone has said.
Conner tells us he could not find a phone anywhere, but did find a large supply of canned goods, bottled water and other supplies in the house. He points to a garden behind the shed.
“They’re stockpiled for a long stay, can grow their own vegetables back there, well hidden, no road…”
“Please, can’t we just get out of here?”, pleads Kimberly as we follow Conner toward the shed.
“So if they didn’t shoot each other, what happened to them?”, asks ignorant me. Conner explains how most of these homegrown cooks have no idea what they’re doing.
“They use bogus ingredients, get the mix wrong, inhale the fumes, whatever.”
He has us stand back while he puts on the mask and opens the shed door. The acrid fumes hit us immediately. Kimberly walks around to take a look at the garden then comes back very quickly.
“Dead dog.” she says, holding her nose and slapping a mosquito on her neck. A few minutes pass and Conner comes out of the shed.
“Whatever they were cooking,”, he says, coughing and spitting, “we don’t want any.”
“Dead dog.”, says Kimmy again, still holding her nose and pointing to a pit behind the shed. I go to take a look but can’t get very close.
“Dead dog,”, I tell them, “and a shitload of mosquitoes.”
“Really?”, says Conner, and heads back toward the pit.
Kimberly and I stay behind. She goes to slap another one on her arm and stops.
“Am I crazy or is that thing blue?”, she says.
We both look at it closely and, sure enough, it seems to have a light blue tint to it.
“That’s weird.”, I say, “Now squash it.”
Conner comes running back from the pit, right past us, back into the shed and comes out with a large can.
“Franklin,”, he says, “take Kimberly back to the house and close the door. I saw mosquito repellant in the kitchen; grab a can and spray everywhere. The whole house.”
I’m totally lost, so I just kind of stand there.
“Now!”, he yells.
We run to the porch, right past the smiling dead lady and into the house. I grab two cans of ‘Mozzie Go”, one for me and one for Kimmy. She immediately starts spraying the kitchen. I still don’t know why, but I join in and we finish the whole house in about ten minutes. I’m just about to say ‘where the hell is Conner’ when he comes crashing through the door and slams it shut.
“Holy shit!”, he says.
‘What?”, I holler.
“Holy shit, holy shit!”, he says again, “They’re breeding in the pit! This isn’t a meth lab, it’s a goddam mosquito farm! There’s thousands of them out there, and they’re blue! They’re fucking blue!”
I realize that Conner has a lot of bites on his face; he sees the expression on mine and smiles.
“Dude,”, he says, “let them bite you, but not too many. I mean, the rush hits you almost immediately. I may have gotten a few too many.” he says and starts laughing his ass off.
“Son of a…!”, says Kimberly, “You’re right. I can feel it.”
“It‘s a great high.”, says Conner, “A wonderful high! It’s like nitrous with a meth kicker.”
He’s starting to look a bit pale and wild eyed.
“These boneheads dump all their cook waste in that pit, the mosquitoes lay their eggs in it, the larvae feed on it, their chemistry is altered and they emerge as tiny little carriers, spreading joy wherever they go.”
Conner still thinks it’s all hilarious. I must have gotten a couple of bites myself cause I can feel it now, this urge to laugh, like suddenly everything is funny.
“Is that what killed these people?”, I ask him.
Another attack of hysterics hits Conner, and Kimberly joins in for a while. I shake my head, finish off the can on myself, then go over to Conner who is now jabbering and laughing and drooling all over himself.
“Man, they never bite you.”, I say while checking his arms and legs. “You’ve got them everywhere!”
“Hungry little shits.”, laughs Conner, and starts singing Joy to the World. Kimmy starts to sing along with him, then stops suddenly and jumps up.
“Franklin!”, she says and runs toward the bathroom. “Check around, find anything that might induce vomiting. Also anything citrus, anything with vitamin C…Yes!”, she hollers, coming out of the bathroom with an odd looking bag and hose gizmo. I decide not to ask what the fuck that is and start rummaging around in the pantry.
“Yes!”, she hollers again, holding up a large plastic bottle, “Vitamin C!”, she says, still a little bit too happy about all this.
So far I have found nothing on my list, but then I see a jar of mustard on the shelf and remember what my mother did to me once; she would say for me, of course. The jar is about half full so I pour in warm water, add a bunch of salt, shake it up and take it over to Conner. He swallows one gulp, gags and immediately takes another. He may be totally wasted but he’s starting to realize that he may be in trouble.
“What about you?”, I ask Kimberly.
“I’m good.”, she says, “Start crushing up those C tabs, maybe twenty or so, and mix them with water.”
I’m wondering how come I never take charge like that, then proceed to do exactly what I’m told. Conner finishes more than half the jar, gags a couple more times and can’t get any more down.
“Okay,”, I explain, “if I remember right, it will only be a few minutes before it all comes back up.”
Kimmy hands me the hose and bag thingy and tells me to fill it with warm water. She loosens Conner’s belt and tells him to get up on his knees and bend over. He laughs and gags.
“And find two buckets.”, she says to me as I return with a full thingy. Then, with a single yank, Conner’s pants are down to his ankles at which point he stops laughing, and I start. I can’t help it.
“Franklin!”, scolds Kimmy and I immediately run around trying to find buckets. At the same time, I’m trying to figure out where to position the camera in order to best capture this magic moment. There must be something seriously wrong with me.
Meanwhile, Conner has become vaguely aware of what is about to happen and is saying things like ‘wait a minute’ and ‘I’m really much better now’. I bring over a bucket and a large bowl, place them front and rear, and Kimberly begins the procedure.
“How can this help?”, I ask her, “It’s in his bloodstream.”
“I’m not sure, I just know we have to clean him out.”, she says, “If nothing else, it will help to get the vitamin C absorbed quicker.”
“No, no…really.”, says, Conner, still laughing, followed shortly by, “Ughhhh!”, which kicks his gag reflex into high gear and…well, both ends…you get the picture. I’m certain that any second I’ll be barfing too, but somehow Kimmy and I both remain surprisingly under control.
It’s all over fairly quickly. Conner is cleaned out and cleaned up, we’ve dumped and washed and done our best to clear the smell.
Conner smiles up at Kimberly, “That was great but, could we just have regular sex next time?”
Kimmy pats him on the head and gives him the vitamin C chaser which he swallows happily.
I spray our clothes and open the door slowly to let in some air, Mozzie Go at the ready. We can’t see or hear any so we step out onto the porch. It’s just past sunset and somehow, amidst all of this, we are both struck by the magnificent colors. Oranges and purples and yellows, and a beautiful blue cloud drifting overhead with a long tail tapering down behind it. And black smoke coming from the pit.
“What’s happening?”, asks Kimmy.
“I set fire to it.”, says Conner, sneaking up behind us. He tells us the can was full of kerosene, which he poured all over the surface of the pit. He says the flames and smoke should have killed a lot of them, and the leftover kerosene smell will keep them from laying their eggs there in the future.
“And, by the way,” he says, “thanks for saving my life but, you realize that if either of you ever says one word about that to anyone, well, I suggest you get your affairs in order.”
Kimberly and I cross our hearts and we all have a good laugh together, then sit down next to the smiling dead lady who also seems to be enjoying the moment. The colors are nearly gone now, and the stars are beginning to appear.
“But what about those?”, asks Kimmy, pointing up to the fading cloud, “I mean, they kill people.”
We all look up.
“Only in heavy concentration.”, says Conner, “The more they disperse, the less likely anyone will get enough bites to hurt them; just enough to give them a happy glow. Think about it, tomorrow morning, all across The Kimberly, people at their kitchen tables, driving to work, heading off to school, will be having the best morning they’ve had in years.”
“And when the blues,”, she asks, “start mingling with those hundreds of millions of others?”
Conner hesitates and has a ‘funny you should ask’ expression on his face.
“Yeah,”, he says, “I was just wondering about that myself.”
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(note to self - get affairs in order)