A Bigger Bat

I spend my days hanging around with my mates in the church belfry. When evening comes we pop out for a bite to eat and spend most of the dark hours flitting about catching moths. Sometimes we come across people heading back from the pub, or young couples getting friendly behind the church, and give them a bit of a shock by swooping up to them really close – you should see the expressions on their faces. I love it when the young girls scream and the men try to swat us away – they always miss of course.

This way of living suits me right up to the rafters. Lots of food, plenty of conversation and frequent opportunities for ensuring the next generation is produced – what’s not to like?

A couple of evenings ago my mate Rodney went out a bit early – it wasn’t dark, just twilight really. I think he wanted to show off to the people walking across the churchyard and along the path that leads to the high prison wall about half a mile away. His favourite trick is when somebody has bought a take-away cappuccino at the local Costa and they sit on a bench next to the path to enjoy it. Rodney can either swoop down low and make them spill the drink when he flies an inch from their face, or he can even let go with squirt of pee or poo right into the cup – that’s dead clever, that is. You should see how cross they get, but they can never lay a finger on Rodney who just laughs his stupid little face off as he flies away.

However, Rodney was hardly laughing when he came back to the belfry on the evening in question. He was quivering with fear and his face had gone a very odd colour.

“What’s up with you, Rodders?” I asked. “Did somebody manage to throw their espresso at you?”

“No”, he said, “I’ve seen something terrible out there. I think it must be a giant bat, but it’s not like any of us, or even like the horseshoes from the church across town. I can’t make it out at all.”

“Will you show me?” I asked. “Can we go and find it now?”

But Rodney had no intention of going out again that night. Instead, I went out by myself for a feed a bit later and saw nothing amiss. It was therefore only last night that I was able to persuade Rodney to take me to where he had seen this monster bat. He seemed to be comforted by the fact that there would be two of us to confront whatever it was.

We flitted around for a while and took a few moths, but at first nothing occurred that was out of the ordinary. However, we had just made our way across to the trees next to the prison path when we heard a most extraordinary sound. It was a buzzing noise like a swarm of very angry wasps. We looked towards where the sound seemed to be coming from but there was nothing to be seen at first. Then we saw it, and I could appreciate straight away why Rodney had been so alarmed. If I had been on my own when this thing had appeared I think I would have high-tailed it in panic just as Rodney had done.

All I can say is that it was a very strange-looking bat. It had one eye that seemed to be looking straight at us and it had four rigid legs or arms, each with a wing on top of it. At least, I suppose they were wings, although they simply spun round very fast and were what appeared to be the source of the buzzing sound.

“What the hell is that?” I shouted out to Rodney.

“I was hoping you might know”, Rodney shouted back. “What bothers me is that a bat that size must be eating so many moths that there won’t be any left for us.”

I could see what he was getting at. That thing must have been ten times the size of Rodney or me, and presumably it had an appetite to match. I could just see underneath where the huge eye was, and there was what appeared to be a pouch of some kind. Presumably this was the creature’s stomach, which looked as though it was pretty full already.

I don’t want to give the impression that we had oodles of time in which to study the new bat’s anatomy, because we didn’t. It was moving at just about the speed we could manage, and it was clear that we did not have much time in which to take action. However, the idea that this thing was stealing all our moths was enough to urge us forward. This monster had to be stopped, although it did not appear to be actually eating any moths as it sped on its way. Its destination seemed to be the prison – perhaps that was where it roosted.

Bats don’t have many weapons, so we had the use the ones that we had. I have to admit that Rodney was better at firing pee and poo than I was, thanks to all his practice with the coffee cups, but I can do my bit when the need arises, and this was just such an occasion.

We flew as fast as we could to get into position above the giant bat and let fly. Rodney was perfect – both barrels on to one of the spinning wings, which immediately stopped spinning. My first poo shot missed – I think I got some teenager on the ground who was looking up to watch the monster as it buzzed across. However, my pee shot hit the wing diagonally opposite the one that Rodney had hit. It too stopped working as the buzz turned to a screech and the bat stopped moving forward.

Instead, it lurched off course and headed for the ground which it hit with a crunch. It was a sad end for the giant bat, but – as we thought at the time - no more than it deserved. Bits flew off in several directions and the pouch burst open to release a number of small white packages. Presumably these were what it had been taking back to the prison – for what purpose was anyone’s guess.

I have to say that I was a bit sad afterwards. This new bat had not been eating moths after all, and we had killed it quite unnecessarily. Now that I have told the story, I really hope that the family of that enormous bat can find in their hearts to forgive us.

© John Welford