The Story of the Stowaway Scorpion

First I mutilate a cow with an automobile. Then I fail to pay my Botswana speeding ticket. But my record as an international outlaw continues to grow. I am now a smuggler of agricultural products across international boundaries. The customs officials didn't look hard enough! The story goes something like this:

One day, a usually cheery yellow scorpion was tired. He was tired of being in the heat of the Namibian desert. He does not remember where exactly he was--it could have been the Trans-Kalahari border post; perhaps by a hostel in Windhoek or Swakopmund; or maybe near the Intercape bus. Where he was is not important; what you need to know is that he was hot. And he wanted relief in the form of shade. As he scuttled around at a rather slow pace, he wondered if he was feeling the effects of heat stroke. He didn't know how much longer he could go on if he didn't get out of the sun.

Then he found it! A medium-sized, olive green backpack, with just the smallest of openings of the zipper on one pocket. It looked like a very cool and inviting backpack, and the yellow scorpion began to cheer up again as he climbed down inside the pocket, and burrowed into the shade of toiletry bottles and a toothpaste tube. Yes, this was a good place to relax.

The scorpion stayed in his pocket a very long time--at least a week, if not more. Then, one Thursday evening, his little pocket started to jostle and shake more than he was used to. "This is not comfortable at all," he thought, as the bottles bumped him around. "I am leaving!" And he scuttled out into the light.

When he emerged from his pocket, he could not figure out what had been causing the bumping (my guess is that the cause had gone to fetch her clean laundry from the line while packing her bag to leave in the morning). The scorpion was a little hungry, but could see nothing in this strange environment that could offer any help for his empty stomach. There was fuzzy carpeting, a giant desk, and what looked like an oasis of solitude under the bed in the spare room in Oliver's apartment. He scuttled under the bed, and tried to hatch a plan for how to get back to the Namib Desert He did not know this world was far far away--in fact, over a 20 hour bus ride away!

After a day and a half, with no sign of any food coming his way under the bed, he decided to wander a little in search of sustenance. Climbing his way up some sheets and onto the softness of a pillow, in the early morning light he saw great potential just a pillow's length away: a human! The scorpion began his approach. But the human, Sean, must have a sixth sense for scorpions when crashing at friends' houses the night after travelers unknowingly leave predatory animals from Namibia in the spare room. Sean woke up eye to eye with our yellow friend and, with lightning-like reflexes, jumped out of bed, grabbed a glass, and captured the unwitting arachnid.

The yellow scorpion would never see the Namibian Desert again. After becoming the apartment's focus of attention for the day (Etienne researched where the little guy was from, and learned how much scorpions like cool dark places like backpacks), the scorpion moved to the Cape Town Waterfront offices of Maersk Shipping to keep Etienne company. But the scorpion was not happy being a pet, and the diet on the Cape did not suit his stomach. The yellow scorpion decided to depart for the desert in the sky, and Etienne honored him with a Naval funeral.

Author's Note: I am relieved that the scorpion did not pop out of my bag sooner (like when I was digging clothes out during the week in CT), and am glad he chose the night after I left to make his presence known. I did not learn of this rather amusing tale until after arriving in Germany. Oddly enough, I would soon be on my way to Hannover, home of the famous 80s band, Scorpions. Coincidence? Perhaps...for as Klaus Meine will tell you, scorpions are "Always Somewhere".