Memories of
Mattoon
10
Mosquitoes, Heat
& Humidity
One thing I am trying
to avoid in my memories is being nostalgic. I merely hope to
bring the past into the present to share what it was like
growing up in Mattoon with those who didn’t and spark memories
of your own for those who did.
The last thing you
will find me doing is referring to the past as “the good, old
days.” Unless you think growing up in Illinois during the summer
without air conditioning was “good.” Besides the stifling
weather flies and mosquitoes were a constant nuisance because
you left the windows open and both had an uncanny ability to
find any holes in any screen.
It was especially not
“good” during a night when the heat and humidity still hung
heavy in the air while you were trying to get some sleep. To
this day I can remember a night when I couldn’t have been more
than five years old.
Why this night stands
out I don’t know. Perhaps because kids all have vivid
imaginations and I had it in my mind that mosquitoes were like
vampires and sucked your blood out while you slept.
I think Ron Kerans
gave me that notion since he was the oldest boy in the
neighborhood. I’m sure he also convinced me mosquitoes could
smell your blood in the dark and tell when you were asleep.
I tried to convince
Mom to let me sleep with a light on but she said no because it
would cost too much money. I’m sure I probably thought
electricity was free but the best I could coax out of her was a
fly swatter.
On this particular night I wasn’t quite asleep when I heard a
mosquito buzzing me. I was convinced they did that sometimes to
torture you by letting you know as soon as you fell asleep they
were going to suck your blood out.
After failing to wave
him away I turned on the light and he disappeared. I could never
figure out how they knew when it wasn’t dark. Ron apparently
hadn’t explained that to me. But as soon as I turned out the
light there was that buzzing in my ears again.
After he’d tormented
me more times than I could remember I defied Mom and left the
light on. I got on my hands and knees, fly swatter in my hand
and searched for this determined pest.
My patience paid off
when I spotted him on the wall near the ceiling behind the
headboard of my bed. By standing on the bed I could reach him
and did I ever nail him with the fly swatter. Victory was mine
that night!
My victory was
short-lived since I soon heard Mom calling me down to breakfast.
It had taken almost all night to get that mosquito and all I
wanted to do was sleep so I pretended I didn’t hear her.
Of course that didn’t
do me any good as I heard her call up the stairs, “Freddie, your
Cream of Wheat is getting cold!”
“I like it cold!” I
yelled back, “I like it cold!” I was telling the truth. To this
day I actually prefer my Cream of Wheat or oat meal cold.
Of course Mom wasn’t
buying that so I got out of bed and got dressed. I was still
grumbling to myself as I walked down the stairs. I couldn’t
understand why I had to get up so early. I was too young for
school or have a job.
So, if you hear anyone
say, “Those were the good old days” don’t listen to them. They
have short memories.
