Venatus and the Indoor Prison III

 

When Venatus awoke the next day, he saw Buster standing next to the leg of the couch, looking out into the distance.

“I was wondering when you’d wake up,” Buster said, without turning to him. He didn’t really need to. Flies had compound eyes, so they could nearly see everywhere at once. Looking in the direction of a fly while talking was more or less a formality.

Venatus noticed that some of the dead flies were missing. “Buster, the bodies...”

“Yeah?”

“Weren’t there more of them?”

“Oh, yeah. There were lots more before you came here, actually. About twelve.”

“But there’s only four now. I thought you said humans didn’t come here.”

“They don’t.”

“Then what—?”

“Look. I’m not going out scavenging to get killed by a fly swatter, okay?”

Venatus nodded and tried not to think about what Buster would have done if he hadn’t woken up in time. “What’s Window Madness?”

“It’s when you try to escape through the window when you can’t. It’s a frenzy! You bang against the window again and again, even when you know you can’t get out. You feel fear and anger all at once, and it drives you insane.” He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. “That’s the horrible thing about window madness. You know you can’t get out that way, but you try anyway because you feel like there’s no other way. Then by the time you snap out of it…”

Venatus remembered the anger and fear he felt as he banged against the window over and over. “How come I couldn’t get out through the window past the invisible force field?”

“Because that invisible force field was not a force field. It was glass. Windows have glass doors, and the humans can open and close them whenever they want. The windows were closed. But don’t think you can escape through the window while it’s open. There’s a screen behind it.”

“A screen?”

“It’s like a net. The humans use it to keep large bugs out. You’d have to be the size of a gnat to get past it”

Venatus sighed. He’d only been in the house for a day, but it already felt like years. Now it sounded like he’d be there for an eternity. He didn’t want to stay underneath the sofa and eat fly carcasses to survive. He wanted to go back outside where it was warm, and there was roadkill, rotten fruit, and dead squirrels and mice the cats dragged in.

“That’s one reason you’ve gotta stay away from the windows no matter what,” Buster said. “Otherwise, you’ll get window madness, just like you did earlier.”

“But there’s got to be some way out, surely.” Then an idea came to him. “I’ll go out the same way I came in.”

Buster turned to face him. “You’re going to try to fly through the door?”

“It’s the only way. When the humans come and open the door, I’ll fly out.”

“What if the humans close the door before you have a chance to get out?”

“Then we’ll just try again. That’s all we can do.”

Buster looked surprised. “We?”

Venatus was surprised too. But after seeing the dead flies lying in dust and remembering how his attempt at eating a sandwich had cost the lives of his fellow bugs yesterday, he was determined to not escape alone. “If you want to come, you can. We may have a chance.”

“The door has a big window in the center. If we don’t get out, then we could get Window Madness.”

“But if we stay underneath this sofa, we’ll eventually die.”

Buster thought for a moment, his wings twitching. “We can hide behind the trashcan. It’s the best place to wait for an opening.”

“Good.” Venatus didn’t know why, but he felt relieved Buster had said yes.

When the coast was clear, they flew behind the trashcan. Venatus crawled further behind the trash can to see if he could find any scraps, but instead he saw the swatter leaning in a corner. He jumped back. For a second, he thought he’d be killed.

“Relax,” Buster said, still facing the door. “It can’t kill flies on its own. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here.”

Venatus sighed with relief. After finding nothing, he stood next to Buster, and they waited.

Humans laughed upstairs.

“They’re watching a movie,” Buster said. “This may take a while.”

“Okay…what’s a movie?”

Buster sighed.

They waited for a few minutes, then minutes became an hour. Buster’s wings twitched the whole time. He had been stuck underneath the sofa for who knows how long, so Venatus didn’t blame him for the brief buzzing noises he made every once and a while.

“So…what’s with the name Venatus?” Buster asked.

“It’s Greek. Or Latin. I’m not entirely sure. All I know is that it means venison.”

Buster gave him a look.

“I have a fondness for road killed deer.”

“Ah.” He was silent a moment. “Why’d you choose a Greek name?” Flies usually named themselves, since their mothers never stuck around.

“I just liked the way it sounded.”

“You know, Roadkill might have been a cooler name. And it would raise less antennae.”

“Probably.”

The floor rumbled. Big brown boots walked down the stairs.

“The man,” Buster said.

The man headed to the balcony door.

“Get ready,” Venatus said. “It’s now or never.”

When the man turned the doorknob, they flew as if the fly swatter was right on their tail. As the human opened the door and slipped outside, a fresh warm breeze rushed over Venatus like a river.

He gasped for air. It was as if he had been suffocating for days. He was in, and suddenly he was out, out into the fresh air, out into the outdoor world, with its flowers and birds and crickets. Instead of the finite beige roof, the infinite blue sky rose above him. He never realized how blue the sky was, or how beautiful the birds’ singing was. He’d never cared for bird songs till now. And the sun! How wonderful was it to have the sun warm his wings!

He landed on a potted elephant ear plant. “It’s beautiful!” Venatus said. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it Buster?”

Buster didn’t respond.

“Buster?” Venatus turned around. Buster wasn’t with him. Where was he? He was right behind him. He made it out. Right? The wonder he felt ran cold. No. He was with him. He’d made it out. He had to be out here. But his head turned back to the glass door as if being pulled by a magnetic force.

There, on the other side of the glass door, was a fly staring out into the place he couldn’t reach.

As the man went down the balcony steps, Venatus flew back to the door and landed on the glass. “Buster!” How did this happen? How did he get stuck? They must’ve waited too long to go. Now he was outside while Buster was still imprisoned.

Then, the footsteps of the man broke into his thoughts. The man was coming back!

“You have another shot!” Venatus said. “Once he comes, you can fly out! Just hold on!”

Buster didn’t respond. He wasn’t even looking at him. He was looking at the sky and the trees and the flowers and the other flies that buzzed around behind Venatus.

“Buster, did you hear me? You’ve got another chance!”

Buster banged against the glass.

What was he doing? “Buster, no!”

But he wasn’t listening. It was like he wasn’t even there. He just kept trying to fly out. And the whole time he did that, he was buzzing loudly. Loud enough for the girl, who Venatus spotted, to see him. She went over to the corner nearest to the trash bin and picked up the fly swatter.

“Buster, hide! She has the fly swatter! Fly!”

Buster banged against the glass again and again, buzzing and buzzing. The girl was behind him, raising the swatter high.

“Buster!”

Buster stopped and rested on the glass. He looked right at Venatus. He seemed dazed, like he was just waking from a dream.

That’s the horrible thing about window madness, Buster had said. You know you can’t get out that way, but you try anyway because you feel like there’s no other way. Then by the time you snap out of it…

BANG!

Guts splattered and Buster’s face smashed into the glass. Venatus had seen the dead bodies of the flies behind the couch. But this was worse.

Much worse.

Even after the fly swatter was off him, Buster’s dismembered body was still plastered to the glass.

“Ha! Got it!” the girl said.

Venatus flew towards the woods, the noise, and the image of Buster being squashed, scaring him.