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How To Get Rid of A Pesky Fly

By Robert Craig III, Bakotopia.com contributor

A fly can be a problem in any circumstance. 

Neither man, woman, child, or beast are able to tolerate a fly’s persistence on a hot summer day.  Moreover, I recall the time in a small country schools, I discovered
procedures for dealing with these pests are unofficially established.  School children and teachers know these rules by heart, which can be broken down into simple steps.

Step-one: identify the type of pest.  It isn’t a good idea for anyone to attempt to smash some pests that has a fighting chance, or might respond with a death defying sting you
would remember eternally. And no one will ever forgive you if you smash a defenseless and harmless humming bird after mistaking it for a brutally large fly.

Step two: action.  To take the proper action you need to know what kind of pest you are dealing with, decide your approach, and the type of weapon to select.

I remember the day I realized there were rules on how to deal with a pest.  I was in my sixth grade classroom in North Florida. Class was held in an unattached wood frame,
duplex, building.  It was poorly insulated, which meant it was brutally cold in the winter and incredibly hot in the summer. Early in the year the large pedestal fan that once circulated air through the room had burnt out.  The door was at the front of the room opened toward the school campus.  Blinding white sand reflected the sun into the room
through the open door. This offered little relief from the sweltering heat and humidity but did allow some entertainment when a small bird would wonder into the room.  The
students would watch as the teacher waved his arms around in an attempt to guide the bird out of the room.  I thought it was somewhat comical, watching the tall lanky man
flail his arms about in almost imitation of the bird, and often thought he might be the spirit of a crane like the ones that waded in the swamps near my home.  The teacher’s
desk sat near the windows, away from the door, and a green chalkboard hung behind his desk in sections across the room.  The screened windows spanned three-feet from
the floor to just below the ten-foot ceiling, and remained open most of the time. The pencil sharpener was located on my side of the room, on one of the frames between the
windows.  Outside the windows were maple trees and a small vegetable garden overgrown with weeds.

On this particular sunny day, I watched the pretty girl with blond hair in front of me get up to sharpen her pencil, as I often found her more interesting than the teacher.  No sooner had she placed her pencil, in the sharpener then, she let out a scream that probably shook the entire school grounds.  The sound was piercing, and I couldn’t possibly
imagine what had happened to her as she ran back to her desk, leaving her pencil in the sharpener.  My curiosity was trigger, and I jumped up immediately.  No sooner, than I
arrived at the sharpener, the teacher a tall serious looking man shouted at me to get back in my seat.  As I turned around, I spotted the culprit that sparked the excitement of
the little girl with blonde hair and went back to my seat without protest almost as rapidly as I drew the attention of the teacher.

      Now an unwanted guest had entered the classroom, “Step-one” of the original procedure took on a new meaning for me: some decisions to be made.

      “Step-one”: Was it a bug or a bird?

      “Step-two A”: Action, let the teacher kill it or...

      "Step-two B”: let the teacher show it out of the room? And...

      “Step-three”: Add procedures to “step-two”:

I thought “Step-one” was complete when all of a sudden the school bully jumped up from the other side of the classroom.  Apparently his eyesight was poor because I heard him say something about a hummingbird as he crossed the room, jumping over chairs and stumbling over the other students’ legs.  All the shouting in the world from the teacher wasn’t going to discourage him for seeing his hummingbird face to face.  With the classrooms’ entire attention now focused on the window, he stopped and stared in disbelief at was the biggest horsefly any 12 year-old ever saw.

The teacher, obviously concerned with losing control of his class, rushed to the scene, apparently, the teacher hadn’t taken time to notice, or maybe his view was obscured from the angle of his approach, but as he reached out to grab the boy by the arm, he also froze.  Without fully clutching the boy’s arm, he released his grip and opted for “step two A”; and returned to get the flyswatter that hung between two chalkboards at the front of the room.

Nothing could have pleased me more than to witness the school bully getting punished by someone bigger and meaner than he was.  However, I was squeamish at the thought of watching the life get sucked out of him by a six-inch horsefly.  This creature was obviously on a mission and was fully armed for business with his two-inch proboscis fully extended in combat mode.  The huge fly, looking more like a fighter jet ready for takeoff, sat on the window screen with his radar shaped eyes and wings twitching independently of each other.  The bully, apparently opting for “step three”, tested the area around the fly with the pencil he pulled from the sharpener. 

With each probe the fly became more excited, took to short flights, and quickly returned to the screen.  Watching this, I was convinced he thought he was still dealing with a hummingbird.

No one was concerned about why the teacher was taking so long to return with the fly swatter.  After all, we weren’t about to take our eyes off a fly this large.  Besides, no one
wanted to miss it when the bully got the insect to perch on the end of the pencil or fitness what would transpire when he realized he wasn’t dealing with a hummingbird.  In
addition, a sensation of camaraderie was developing.  Everyone in the class was getting involved.  Children were pressing close behind the bully and someone handed him a ruler as step three took on more form.

In what appeared to be a modification of step two B; the school bully attempted to slide the ruler cautiously under the insects’ legs.  However, as soon as the ruler disturbed its rear legs the insect took to flight.  This time the insect introduced us to a step we hadn’t considered.  Step two C.  Engage in combat.  With lighting quick reflexes the bully jumped back, and looking more like a scene from an old Errol Flynn movie or a Saturday morning cartoon, he began to do battle with the insect.

PARRY! DODGE! THRUST!  The bully was doing quite well when the teacher intervened to complete step two A, and swatted at the insect.

SWOO-O-SH!  No insect could have possibly survived the blow.  However, the entire classroom of students watched in disbelief as the tip of the swatter went one way, while the fly dodges the killing blow.  Emotions in the classroom shifted to horror as we realized the tip of the swatter had separated from the handle during the first attempt to kill the creature.  The bully armed with a twelve-inch ruler and the teacher armed with the handle of the swatter engaged in combat with the prehistoric looking insect.  Both jumped back giving themselves more room between their fighting instruments and the insect.

DODGE! DODGE! PARRY! PARRY! THRUST! THRUST!

The fly would advance, then back up, touch his tail to the window screen and charge forward again.  I could think of nothing better for us than to introduce “Step-Two D”; let
this creature from hell escape out through the window he was cornered in.  So, ducking below the swings of the teacher and the bully, I reached up to the window and attempted to unfasten the latch of the screen. 

My third grade lessons about a fly’s ability to see everything around him turned out to be surprisingly accurate.  In horror and disbelief I watched the fly advancing toward me while apparently ignoring the teacher and the bully, I was introduced to Step 2C; and immediately created Step 2B1; Take cover and “Step 2C1” RETREAT! Chills went up my spine! The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I sucked in a deep breath as I anticipated the worse. 

Bare handed I swatted at the fly, knocking him back.  Again he advanced to attack me, and I saw a book come between the fly and me.

THUMP!

Smacking the fly with one of her textbooks was the pretty girl with blonde-hair.  Even a small housefly needs more than thin air to smash his body into if you expect to do any damage to it, and considering this fly was about six-hundred times larger.  I knew it was a matter of time before he came at me again, But, much to my relief, sometime during my retreat the teacher combined “Step 2B’ and “Step 2D”, and managed to open the screen and prop it open with the ruler the bully used to defend himself against the
fly.  The entire class watched as the fly escaped out the window, and when the teacher quickly closed the screen, we shuttered with fear as the fly returned to land on the outside as it was closing.  Courageously, the school bully smacked the screen with the back of his hand, where the fly had lighted, and was instantly slapped buy the teacher who scolded, “What are you trying to do?” Knock out the screen!?”

With all the steps decidedly complete, someone had the better judgement to add closure to the matter and shut the front door.  No one protested having to endure the early summer heat of North Florida after that day. 

And we all took to heart some very good lessons on how to get rid of the pesky fly, and better yet, how to avoid having to deal with the problem by keeping an unscreened door closed no matter how hot it gets. 

I guess one of those life long lessons we all received that day was how to forget things
because the teacher returned to the mathematics lessons as if nothing had happened.

Robert Craig III

USN Retired

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