When I was about 5 years old, we lived on the 3rd floor of an apartment complex in Chicago. On this particular day, we had company over who were going to spend the night — my cousins and their parents. With night approaching, the three or so cots were pulled out and arranged side by side in the living room.
Two to three of us children crawled into the cots. The adults were in the kitchen and us kids were squirmy. It was a hot and dark night so the windows were wide open.
Suddenly, we heard flapping. What could it be? More flapping sounds were heard. Squealing kids could be heard and parents rushed toward the living room. A light came on. Immediately my mother yelled “Put the sheets over your heads.” Fear was in our hearts but obedience rose to the occasion.
Something landed on my head. I lay still, very still and too afraid to move.
A broom, a plastic bag and alcohol — those were the items used to kill and catch the bat that was flying through the air of our living room.
My mother believed the bat was “sent” to us so by someone who intended evil for our family — it was considered a bad omen. She kept it in the plastic pouch until about 15 years ago.
A long time to keep a bad omen.
Image from: www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=1521″>Image: maple / FreeDigitalPhotos.net</a></p>
