The Full Worm Moon

The full worm moon came out in a brilliant show of light, like a Broadway opening night. The streets were illuminated in excess of streetlights alone. The brilliant disk combined with the smell of dew on the grass and foliage were very restorative and calming to the soul.

 “Hey watch where you’re walking you big klutz!” Someone said.

“Who said that?” I exclaimed not seeing anyone around.

“Down here you dumb ass, you’re stepping on my tail!”

Looking down at my feet I noticed something squirming there .Sure enough unbeknownst to me it was a big fat earthworm trying to free himself from under my heavy brown shoe.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize that you were there. It wasn’t my fault,” I exclaimed carefully moving my foot away from the worm.

“Well then whose fault was it, mine for jumping under your foot?”

“Yes sure,” said the worm. ”You probably did it on purpose. You humans think you’re the only thing that matters,” said Benny as the worm called himself.

“That is not true!” I answered, getting mad flailing my arms around in frustration. As my arm came back it smacked straight into a crow who was dive bombing hellbent and hell bound aiming straight for Benny. The bird connected hard with my ascending fist, leaving a bleeding gash in my knuckle.Down he fell cold dead on the spot, his beak having been pushed into his brain, black feathers flew off the now lifeless body of the assassin.

“Wow!” said Benny “You saved my life. That was a close one. Thanks a lot!”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Are we even now?”

“Yes I guess so. That was very memorable even though it happened by accident,” said Benny.

Unfortunately, for worms the other Indian name for this astronomical occurrence was The Full Crow Moon, an opportunistic chance for the huge black birds to more easily see their prey. Just then, the cry of other crows could be heard seeking their comrade to share the spoils of his evil deed. Revenge for their fallen brother would certainly become utmost in their minds. Quickly I took out my handkerchief and scooping up Benny folded him gently into the cloth, hiding him like a recovered Spanish Doubloon and rapidly exiting the area. I could see swarms of crows flying around here and there in constant communication with each other as I transversed the narrow streets of the town, hampering these feathered nightmares from exercising their retribution on me, vengeance burning in their eyes and black hearts.

CAW!CAW!CAW! I heard sometimes close at hand and sometimes far away.

Once or twice a large black shadow would overtake me approaching close by, eclipsing the bright Worm Moon momentarily, that illuminated my way like the evil Nazgul of Mordor. I clutched a broken baseball bat that was sticking out of a garbage can and retained it for protection.

Finally arriving at my house, I ducked in to the sanctuary from the aerial malcontents. Upon entering my apartment, I gently removed the handkerchief from my pocket and unfolded it carefully to see how Benny had faired in the nights exploits. Benny had to adjust to the light in the apartment but overall seemed to be in pretty good shape considering his brush with death, almost entering the eternal worm hole, a survivor of the feathered marauding nemesis. I closed over the curtains in case any of my pursuers had followed me and were perched nearby. At this point, I realized how hard my heart was pounding and slumped into a chair and slept.

The next morning I awoke early and created a terrarium, having set Benny up with an old goldfish bowl and some dirt from the backyard. Searching through the dewy grass and leaves, I found a large dead earthworm who had not survived the previous night’s atrocities having been left to rot presumably proving unpalatable to his executioner.

I folded him up in my handkerchief as my plan percolated. Returning to the scene of the previous nights calamity I found two crows perched above their expired friend lamenting his untimely passing in some Avian funerary ceremony surrounding the body with stolen black crepe paper.

“You have the audacity to come here?” They cawed. “We should peck your eyes out!”

Additional crows flew into the trees above me ready to attack.

“I mean no disrespect, and came here to bury the worm you frightened to death last night,” I said. Bending down and scooping out the earth with the handle of my bat, I placed the corpse of the worm and covered it up.

“I apologize for striking the crow but it was truly an accident and I am sorry for your loss.” I whispered reverently.

The old crow was not sure what to make of me. If he showed weakness, it might be deemed that his time for leadership was over. He stepped back and forth from one claw to the other eyeing my bat and deciding what to do.He was old and worn out with frayed grey feathers, and massive like a black eagle. Losing more members of the flock to my bat worried him and he let me complete the burial ceremony.

“We will let you pass, but do not return here again or we will see it as an insult,” squawked the old crow.

I left as calmly and solemnly as possible not wishing to push destiny. Benny lived a long and happy life, surviving a full eight years after our chance meeting, a testament to my innovative witness protection program and his staged death. We went on many adventures together, always careful to avoid the watchful eye of predatory birds. Going on a fishing trip one time, Benny lathered up in sunscreen and a tiny hat. Benny made me pay the ransom to repatriate the other fishermen’s worms if I could afford the ransom. We used clams as bait. Nobody likes them anyway, and it was a much more politically correct choice, at least in worm circles.

Jim

March 2020