So I was down at our Bible Institute cleaning out a closet. I found some boxes of old curriculum, which contained some tell-tail signs of mice. I could see that some pages were scratched and shredded with a few droppings nearby. However, I could not see the bottom of the box, so I didn’t know if there we any mice ready to pop out at me. Admittedly, my nerves were a little keyed up and I had a little bit of adrenaline pumping. I kicked the boxes out of the closet and into the classroom – after that I was pretty satisfied that nothing would jump out at me. I was wrong. So very wrong.
Next thing on my to-do list was to shuffle some books around. I needed to move some books from the closet to the bookshelves in the classroom next door. But the books were very tall, so I took just one of them across the hall to see if it would fit on those bookshelves. The tall books only fit on top shelf of the bookcase, but that would be sufficient. So, without a care in the world, I casually made by way back across the hall towards the closet.
Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a shadow that seemed out of place. In the hallway, there is a shelf just above eye-level and the shadow was just below it. Nonchalantly, I turned my head to see what might cast such a shadow. There hung a bat, mere inches from my eye-ball.
It’s a good thing the Bible Institute has high ceilings because I jumped. After the initial shock wore off and I came to the realization that the devil beast of the night was not, in fact, clawing at my face or sucking my blood, I found I still needed to sit down for a few seconds to collect my thoughts. I took a few deep breaths and called fellow-missionary Joan to ask, “I found a bat and it’s not trying to kill me, but how do I get rid of it?” Her advice was to call for Bertin.
I asked the guard and the Bertin at the blind center to come over and give me a hand with the “chauve-souris” (that how you say “evil flying rodent” in French). Showing no fear, he snuck up behind the bat and clubbed it to death. That works. Thanks Bertin, you’re the man.