Aliens among us
Aliens among us
Did you
know that fleas can lurk, unseen, for up to nine months?
‘I’ll spray
round the whole house,’ says the pest control man as he assesses how bad my
situation is. ‘Should be sorted in six weeks.’
Six weeks?
Small black
dots jump with glee onto his white leg protectors. They jump off, disappointed.
Then they find my bare ankles. Their squeaks of joy send messages to the
others, who hatch, ready for dinner.
The older
ones are too busy to feed; they’re squatting in the corners of the room, in the
cracks in the kitchen floor, in my wool basket, squeezing out hundreds of eggs.
‘I’ll set a
bomb off too, that’ll cover every surface,’ says the man.
A bomb?
He walks
into the kitchen, brushing his legs clear of the hopeful juveniles. ‘I’ve seen
worse, but it’s pretty bad.’
Trying not
to sound too tremulous, I ask, ‘How does it all work? How can I be sure they’ll
be gone?’
For someone
who voluntarily marooned herself on an uninhabited desert island for a month,
I’m surprised at how squeamish I am about my new house guests. Out in
Micronesia, I coped with centipedes as long and thick as garden hoses, spiders
the size of small dogs and mosquito clouds so dense they formed thunderheads.
So why are
these little buggers getting me hopping?
It’s the
lurking.
The adults
lay eggs, hundreds of eggs. They hatch in a couple of days and little maggoty
larvae then crawl away from the light into crevices. After three larval stages
they pupate. This is where they begin to resemble the creatures in Ridley
Scott’s Aliens. They hatch when they
detect warmth, vibration or carbon dioxide!
At the pupa
stage they are almost impossible to kill. To make them hatch and die, you need
to be in the same room, breathing, walking, willing to risk the case opening
and a flappy spider thing jumping on your face and wrapping its…no, sorry… got
carried away.
The idea is
that the impervious pupae hatch when they detect you nearby and then the
chemical in your house kills them.
That’s the
hope anyway. I’ve just had the second spraying and bombing, and have to wait
for the next cycle to hatch and die before I can be pronounced clear.
Till then,
I’m tempted to stay upstairs and write my memoir about sleeping among poisonous
insects and trying to catch enough fish for my supper – almost pleasant
memories in contrast.
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