Night Hunting

There's nothing like stalking a cricket at 3 am. This one was carrying on at such a level of intensity, he woke me up. I'd almost managed to catch him before going to bed, but he avoided me then by cleverly employing the lip on the bookcase. At that point, he got scared enough to stay quiet for about four hours. But then he launched in again, slowly dragging me out of my dreams. I got up and moved things around in his general vicinity a few times, which was enough to quiet him down briefly. Apparently, however, the little critter had acquired some extra levels of boldness during the hours I slept, because he would stay inactive only until I turned the light back out.

So, it came down to hunting by sound. I waited for him to get his racket going at full tilt. Then, using small movements, I crossed the room. Still, he quieted as I approached. At first, I had concentrated my efforts on the bookcase, but after sitting still long enough to allow him to take up his serenade again, I realized the clever little bastard had moved.

Near the bookcase was the heap of items I have not yet unpacked. Some scattered clothes, a few boxes and two baskets temporarily containing my spare toiletries. I picked up a few clothing items. He kept chirping. I moved more clothes. Didn't phase him. Finally, I picked up one of the baskets. His chirping diminished to a cautious warble, and the sound moved with my hand. I had him!

Not getting overly sure of myself, I took the basket out into the front room. You see, we've established this cricket is clever. I didn't want him jumping away from me only to find a new hiding place equally effective at destroying my rest. The thing is, I actually rather like the sound of crickets chirping. Just not right in my bedroom.

Once in the other room, I turned the lights on and he fell silent. I took out two items from the basket, and there he was, clinging to the woven side. He took one look at my sleep deprived countenance and scampered deeper into the basket. He found an opened box of razor blades, and entered. He was really trapped now.

I picked up the box, removed the two unused blades from the inside, carried it (covering the opening with my hand to prevent last minute escape) to the nearest door, and ejected him into his native environment. I heard his shell click the cardboard edge of the box as he sailed clear, and the satisfying thunk as he landed on the ground a few seconds later.

Then I went back to bed and slept until morning.