The Maggot Story
One morning, when I was little, about 7 or so, I woke up. You know, open the eyes, wiggle the toes in the warm, soft sheets, close the eyes, open them again. That whole thing. Well, what made this waking up different was that I was pretty itchy. Lots of little, red bites, all over my body. Actually, no, I take that back. I usually woke up with lots of little, itchy red bites because of all the mosquitoes that buzzed around during the night. People would tell me the mosquitoes liked me because I was so sweet. Yeah, whatever.
The thing about these bites is that they didn't go away. Most of them did, but some of them stayed, and got bigger, and itchier. Especially the one on my chest. I complained to mom, and she took a look. "It's just a bite. Scratch it with a hairbrush," she said. That didn't work.
A few days went by, and all the bites disappeared except for the one on my chest. Only, now, it felt really funny. Like kinda tingly itchy. And the top of it was white. Gross! A big zit.
Then I saw it.
I started yelling my head off.
"MOM! MOMMMMMM! Something's moving!" My feet danced up and down, hoping to shake it out. I screamed again.
Mom came running in. She peered closely at my chest and said, "Oh my! You've got a maggot in there." She left the room for a few seconds and came back with a pair of tweezers. Handing them to me, she said, "Here. Keep these with you. When it pokes its head out for air again, pull it out."
I couldn't do it. I was afraid. For all I knew, that hideous little creature next to my heart could have been as long as an earthworm. Or more! What if I pulled on it, and it kept coming, and coming, and coming? What if part of me came out with it? What if it started writhing in convulsions and disappeared farther below my skin? What does a 7-year-old DO in situations like that?
An entire agonizing day passed. I tried to play, but knowing I had to remove this thing weighed heavily on my mind, especially since it kept popping its head out every few minutes. Finally, I sat down and told myself, "This is it. Grab its head and pull it out. If it's really long, or if it hangs on tight, deal with it." I held my breath, thinking the lack of oxygen would force the creature up for air. The strategy worked. The white, moist head surfaced. I took the tweezers, and exhaled. I couldn't do it.
That evening, Mom asked me, "Did you get the maggot out?" I started crying and shook my head "no." "Here," she said. "Let me look at it." I bared my chest for her. Quick as a wink, she jabbed at me with two long fingernails and dropped something in the palm of her hand. It was big! It was wiggling! And there were LEGS on it! Two of them had fallen off and were laying next to the writhing, white thing the size of a very large grain of rice.
In utter horror, I stared. "Mom! What IS it?"
"It's the maggot, darlin'," Mom said. "We got it out just in time, before it turned into a fly." Then she told me if it had turned into a fly inside me, it could have laid eggs.
Well, I was glad to finally have that whole experience over with. I guess those other "bites" were maggots too, but I scratched off their heads, so they died.
We found out that the maggots came from the bed sheets. Mom hung them outside to dry in the fresh air. Flies came along and laid their eggs in the fabric. When the sheets were put on the bed, the body heat from sleeping on them made the eggs hatch, and the little maggots crawled into my skin.
After that, Mom learned to iron everything that hung outside to dry, even underwear. No sense going through that again!
I don't know if this story helps explain why I'm so obsessed with maggots, but it was an experience I'll never forget.
p.s. This really did happen to me when I was living in Africa. I haven't heard of anything like that here. No, wait. That reminds me of the maggot dog story, which took place right here in California. Maybe some other time.