a story for kids
I opened my eyes and on the pillow next to me was a mosquito.
“Was that you that talked?” I asked.
“Yep! What is your name?”
I sat up in my bed. I couldn’t believe what was happening. A talking mosquito! Did you ever wonder what mosquitos think of themselves? I was about to find out, and trust me, it’s weird.
“I’m Gordon,” I said, pretending not to be freaked out.
“We only have a few moments before your parents get home, so I’m afraid I must get straight to the point,” said the mosquito. “My name is Clyraina. I am an emissary of mosquito-kind. I have been watching you for most of my life–eight days. I believe you may be the best hope my species has of communicating with Gigantuans.”
“What are Gigantuans?”
“You. That’s what we call you bizarrely large creatures.”
I had never been called large before. I’m the shortest and skinniest kid in the whole Fifth Grade.
Clyraina continued:
“We’ve tried to communicate with Gigantuans before, but we’ve not been successful. Many brave emissaries have been sent on missions of peace. Most never return.”
“Why not?”
“We think you keep smashing them.”
“Oh,” I said. In fact, I’ve smashed a mosquito or two in my time.
“But we never give up hope!” Clyraina’s thorax puffed up with pride. “Some mosquitoes say you Gigantuans are too warlike and unintelligent to make peace. I say in reply to these mosquitoes, ‘They may be thickheaded brutes, but we must not give in to hatred!’ And so we forgive. We know that if we choose to hate, then we’re no better than you big dumb Gigantuans.”
“Wait,” I said. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but we humans–er, I mean Gigantuans–think you’re just pests.”
“Pests! But mosquitoes are the sweetest creatures on the planet. Don’t you know we pollinate plants? We are the bringers of life.”
“But you suck blood!”
“Only our females do. Males don’t even have a proboscis, or didn’t you notice?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“And okay, yes, we might suck a trivial amount of your blood. But we have good reason. We use your blood for nutrients our eggs need to develop properly. Surely you can’t blame a mother for caring for her young?”
“I guess not.” She was beginning to convince me.
“We’ve learned that you Gigantuans kill for food even when you have other options. That’s barbaric! When we take blood, we’re so gentle that many times you never even notice. And we never kill.”
Clyraina made a strong case.
(I didn’t realize at the time that what she said about mosquitoes never killing was a lie.)
“Follow me,” said Clyraina. “I want to show you something.”
She flew in loops in front of my face until I got out of bed and followed her. She led me out of my room and into the kitchen.
It was full of mosquitoes. They covered every surface–the counters, the sink, the cupboards, the refrigerator.
“This is my tribe,” she said. “Although we mosquitoes are such advanced creatures, much better in every way than you Gigantuans, we still want to be friends with you. That’s how noble we are. You could never be our equals, of course. But we think you are intelligent enough to follow basic commands.”
“You want us to be your slaves?”
“No. More like our circus animals. Gordon, you could be the first one. What do you say?”
My parents have instilled in me the importance of self-respect. I did what any self-respecting human being would do in this situation. I yelled, “Sure thing! Sounds fun!”
This is why I haven’t turned in my math homework. The mosquitoes have been keeping me up late every night this week, teaching me to balance a ball on my nose.
Now, here’s a fun fact I read just today in the school library:
When some types of mosquito draw blood, they spread diseases like malaria, dengue, Zika, and West Nile virus, killing two to three million people each year. That makes mosquitoes the deadliest wild animals on the planet, deadlier than bears, vipers, tigers, rogue circus elephants, sharks, scorpions, wolves, rabid bats, rattlesnakes, black widow spiders, and poisonous frogs combined.
So, my dear Mrs. Matsunaga, maybe you should just write down in your grade book that I got straight A’s.
I’m just saying that we don’t want the mosquitoes to get angry.
Sincerely,
Gordon Hill