As if it came from the deep caverns of my worst nightmares, there was no escaping the fact this disgusting creature was on me. There was no way I could ignore its cold underbelly touching my skin as it continued up my leg at a methodical and menacing pace. With each step, its spiky feet left an indelible imprint on my brain, if not my skin. My worst fears intersected with the inescapable truth that our bodies had conjoined. Terror overrode all other emotions and reason. 

Hindsight allows me to accuse this frightening life form of being up to no good with its shenanigans and hide-and-seek antics.

It also permits me to edge nearer the rational, allowing room for myself and other living forms to share this planet. As life lays out and plays out its own set of natural rules, ultimately, I acknowledge that the terror with antennas had no more interest in me than I did in it. At the time, however, my sense of composure was lost. Believing Hummer was a loathsome beast out to get me left only the most primal part of my brain able to function. And function - it did.

When I say, "It was all a blur," believe me. The blur of which I speak has nothing to do with whether or not I have little to no memory or comprehension of the event. For that, I am sure. The following events happened so fast that my brain's visual and mental capacity had no choice but to see everything as a blur. My physical actions were too fast to delineate distinct individual movements. Case in point: If the resulting seconds were to have been caught on film, slowing down the speed would be the only way to show my body's literal physical motion. Then and only then would the possibility exist where you could decipher a leg here, an arm there, and perhaps the slightest hint of what would appear to be human hair frantically swirling. Even under those conditions if you could watch the film at a slower pace trying to decipher a human body rarely if ever seen in a mode of such extreme hypermobility and frenetic gyrations, it would present as tricky. To this day, my right arm and left leg seem slightly longer than their counterparts. I am sure this is due to the explosive velocity of movement each extremity endured that day. I attribute my ability to make sudden, on-a-dime turns when walking straight to this modest deformity. 

As if on rewind, ol' Hub had just gotten the shampoo lathered up in his hair when he heard my scream. This scream, which Hubs commented on later, was not as loud as it was deep, sounding like it came from a wild animal in dire distress. Today I am not able to repeat this sound. At the time, it felt like something was exponentially growing from within my gut, making its way up through my abdomen and reading itself to burst from within me through my trembling lips. The sound that forced its way from within me that day was as unrecognizable to me as it was to him. It was then, and in unison, the sound and the dance between the ghastly repellent insect and the unhinged neurotic began.

My next recollection is that I found myself in the bedroom by the bathroom, repeating, "It was on - it was on me!" My hands rapidly brushed down both my arms and legs as if doing so would wipe away the memory and sensation of feeling Hummer's feet and its belly dragging on my bare skin as it crawled up my leg. 

My recall at that moment, fighting for clarity, led me to deduce I had grabbed Hummer with my bare hand and flung it as far away from me as the condo walls would allow. This disturbing recollection caused me to shake my hands profusely in a feeble attempt to eliminate the mental reenactment of touching it. What was not clear to my horror-stricken mind was where Hummer had landed. Once again, it had the advantage of knowing my whereabouts, whereas I was left pathetically absent of the slightest inkling of its location. Without a perceived plan of escape, I was frantically shaking both hands between running them up and down my leg. I began alternating, lifting my feet off the ground simultaneously. Together, all of these erratic movements led to the appearance I was an unhinged idiotic majorette, minus the baton. 

In those same moments, Hubs, with superhuman speed, was out of the shower, rocking from one hopping foot to the other as he lifted each leg to get his boxers on without falling face down onto the unforgiving tile floor. His soapy and disheveled hair went every which way, and he had an abnormally wild look in his eyes. Interestingly it was a look I had become familiar with over the preceding couple of days.

We did not indulge in verbal communication because his body language spoke volumes, a language my eyes read and my mind understood. I knew he remembered the size, diabolical wizardry, and agility this bug possessed. 

Without a word to each other, we cautiously entered the living room, and at the same time, we spotted it on the floor by the edge of the entertainment center. Stealthily I moved toward the bug bowl I had placed on the counter earlier, grabbed it, and thrust the bowl toward Hubs. With stern determination written on his face, he took it from me and positioned his body so he could slam the bowl over the bug. Hummer, however, with its pin-sized brain, had its own plan and showed us all what it was capable of once again as it hurried along the side of the entertainment center and back behind it.

"No!" I shrieked. "Not again!" 

After what felt like hours, with a dry and scratchy voice, Hubs finally broke the silence, "We will have to wait until it comes out." I heard in his tone determination, albeit we both discerned a hint of wavering in his voice. Later we discussed how at that moment, both of us being completely aware of Hummer's size and witnessing its tactical survival skills, had a rude awakening. Neither of us knew whether or not Hummer could sting, bite, or both. 

In our lifetime, we both have seen our share of sci-fi thrillers. The Alien series alone was enough to plant the seeds of terror that would, at this juncture, feed our imaginations. This foreign and skilled adversary could have been a science experiment gone awry, only awaiting the opportunity to shoot acid across the room and into our eyes! Our attentive necessary, and terrifying, wait was on.

We were determined to get Hummer so it could not come out while we slept. Both of us searched every inch up and down and around the entertainment center, seeking any sign of it and, without a doubt, would do so as long as it took now that we knew what it was hiding behind. The fear was palpable when considering it could find its way onto, or worse yet into, a crevice or an orifice of either of us. 

After a few long minutes, Hubs saw it climbing up the wall, only to hide again behind a vase on one of the entertainment center shelves. This demonic entity was tempting us to get closer for some sinister reason. It awaited our next move. 

With the bug bowl in one hand, Hubs slowly moved the vase with the other. He asked me to hurry and get something thin and flat to slide underneath the bowl so that once he had it trapped against the wall, he could slip it between the bug and the wall and secure it in the bowl. Amazingly, I spotted an 8 x 11 laminated map on a coffee table nearby, promptly procured it, and handed it to him. 

Quite reassuring to me, Hubs said next, "This will work fine." The confidence had returned in his voice. 

Several frantic moments later, as Hubs arms flailed to and fro trying to keep up with Hummer who continued to fly off the wall and down to the floor and back up onto the wall, the bug flew off the wall and landed on the floor a final time, and Hubs was able to trap it. As immediately as both of us felt relief, a chilling shock replaced it and went to our cores as we watched Hummer race around the inside of the bowl as if in a mixing bowl set on high. We could hear his body slamming into the bowl as it ran at a maddening pace around and around, sending out a frightful hiss. Hubs made for quite a sight with his boxers on, but askew as he held the bowl down with both hands, his hair still dripping shampoo down his face. 

Now this giant bug was mad. Trapped in the condo for as long as we had been there, maybe several days longer, it had to be frightfully hungry. What now, I thought? How do we get it out of here? It cannot escape the bowl and be lost in the condo again. If that were to happen, I believed, we would be doomed. As my mind raced from one gut-wrenching scenario to another, Hubs was still bent over and had begun to push the bowl towards the door, never letting up on the pressure he applied to the top of the bowl.

"I've got it. Open the door! I'll push across the floor to get it outta here." 

His words rang out like a song from a savior as I ran to the door. Like most places we have stayed in on the island, the wooden front doors are solid, making them heavy. This one was no exception. Once I opened it, I felt the force of the wind rushing up the stairwell. For a moment, I feared that if Hubs threw it out the door, the wind would surely blow it right back in. However, there was no time to discuss my concern; hubby bent over, hands keeping the bowl firmly against the floor and sliding it along in front of him, had already passed the kitchen and was heading down the hall to the open door. Hubs bravely met the near hurricane-force wind channeling up the four stories of stairs to our condo. It blew his dampened hair flat against his head and made the legs of his boxers flap madly against his thighs. 

Being the brave soldier I am, I ran around to the back of Hubs and retreated around the corner, fearing that the Hummer bug would come at me with a demon's revenge once released. Even with the howl of the wind, I could hear the scraping of the bowl on the floor's surface, along with the knocking and buzzing of Hummer's body, as his speed and anger increased with every step Hubs took.

Time felt like it was standing still as I waited in my safe retreat on top of the bed in the second bedroom. Then suddenly, the front door slammed shut. Cocking my head hoping to hear Hub's voice, it was with great relief that his voice, though winded and raspy, said, "Wow!" 

Breathing heavily, still disheveled and wide-eyed, Hubs entered the second bedroom, where I still danced back and forth from one foot to the other on top of the bed. Subsequently, my list of questions about what he did with Hummer and whether or not he was sure it was gone ensued. My mind could not get past the stairwell being the only way in and out of the condo, and that if Hummer had not made it all the way down, it could be waiting - somewhere between our condo and the main floor four stories below - for me. My imagination and mind's eye joined forces creating the following unnerving scene.

Hummer began traversing the stairs. Antennas twitching, it stood up on its lower legs. It crossed its lower feet over each other, one foot methodically tapping. Then, with its eyebrow arched, an evil grin revealed sharp jagged teeth that steaming acid saliva dripped from. A trail of smoke from a cigarette held by Hummer's right upper spiny foot filled the stairwell. I sensed a distinct threat in Hummer's voice, so much so it gave me chills when it said, "I've been waiting for you." 

Hubs cleared his throat a third time, attempting to get my attention and bring me out of my cloud of imagination, at which point he did his best to assure me the bug was gone and probably wouldn't stop until he was at a great distance from the likes of us. All of that sounded rational. But life, I have discovered, is not always rational.

Exaggerations are standard practice when reminiscing about experiences one has had, but there is no need to exaggerate here. Hubs and I know what we experienced in that condo on that trip. When we met with the property manager a few days later and relayed our experience, she added to my heightened apprehension when she told us that only a few days before our arrival, the previous guests complained about the shower drain not draining correctly. The property manager and her maintenance man arrived to assess the issue. After removing the grate, the maintenance man reached down and, along with a clump of human hair, pulled out a six-inch-long dead scorpion. I could not ingest anything for several hours.

The property manager also mentioned that scorpions do not like lavender and that putting it under the bed helps to keep them away. I love the scent of lavender; if need be, I could douse myself with it if it promised to keep the creatures off me, too. If only I had known.

After everything we had experienced in those first few days, the Geckos that would come into the condo and run up the walls and onto the ceiling had little effect on me. Even the three to four-foot-long Iguanas that live all over the island, particularly along the beach we snorkeled from, didn't bother me. They never left me feeling threatened. However, after the property manager's story, there was not a day where I did not shake out my towel before and had Hubs check the shower stall thoroughly before I gingerly and with tremulous trepidation entered it. 

As for the other parts of our tropical paradise experience, they were by far much better than that we had with either the scorpion or Hummer bug. The snorkeling was a treat to the senses and something we did every day except on the few occasions the island was hit with a tropical storm. Although it is not uncommon to hear the crack of lightning and the roar of thunder during the night, listening to a downpour during a tropical rainstorm gives a whole new meaning to the word “rain,” and fortunately for us, the days were free of such interruptions for the most part. When we would experience such an afternoon, we would find a table at one of the restaurants and, with our feet in the sand, wait it out, which meant we had time to relax with a good meal before the sun came out again.

Hubs discovered that keeping up with a manta ray was more challenging than one would think. He would attest that it was undoubtedly as exciting (on an entirely different level as chasing a four to five-inch devil insect) and definitely more rewarding. 

There is no doubt that there are ramifications and accountability when I do anything deliberately to take an insect's life. Thus, bug karma. The Hummer bug resulted from the elimination of the scorpion. Considering that rationale, imagine what would have happened to us if the Hummer bug had also met its demise at either of our hands. Most likely, I would have become a convert afterward if I had not been a true believer before our harrowing experience. 

Putting it all behind us was easier said than done, but a lesson was learned and embedded in my mind. The outcome would have played out with an entirely different ending had we been better prepared that first morning with the scorpion. The scorpion would have survived because we would have had the bug bowl ready instead of going to battle with it, and it would not have lost its life at the cruel end of a hard plastic serving spoon, thus resulting in unleashing whatever ghastly bug karma the Hummer bug was. 

Some say Hummer was most likely a cockroach and that cockroaches in the tropics grow to a mighty size. I don't know for sure, as I had never seen anything like it at that point and still have not seen anything quite like it since. Some may think the two, bug karma and the Hummer Beast, are unrelated. I respectfully beg to differ. My reasoning (or lack thereof, depending on who you ask) has stayed the same. I know that whatever kind of bug it was, it was big and was going to even the score with me, even if it meant it would have to serve time!

The tropics may not appeal to some partially because of, or all due to, the heat, humidity, or large population of buzzing, biting, and on all accounts, grotesque appearing insects. I would agree if that were all the tropics offered. Fortunately, we found so much more about the little tropical island that appealed to us than that which did not, and the rest of our trip was terrific as we continued exploring the island and meeting with the friendly locals. To this day, they recognize us after all these years and welcome us with broad smiles when we enter their establishments. 

We went to explore a tropical place we had never been to before. We have returned every year since and bring home a little more with us each time than we came with.  

So if I have a slight twist to my gait and can be set off by a whisp of loose hair fluttering in my peripheral, causing me to release a scream that could shatter glass, it is a small trade-off for the bigger picture. With all it offers, we found our home away from home in the cradle of the tropics. And yes, on occasion, that may include a boa constrictor in the shrubs by the beach's edge, squeezing the life out of a poor Iguana, and often the unidentifiable sounds in the jungle that warn us to keep our distance which we do with great respect. But this tropical paradise has offered us so much more, like the year a flock of pelicans fished in the same water we were floating in. Diving directly next to us, they would pull up foot-long fish and gulp them down as they floated right next to us without fear of our presence. It made for some of the most incredible days ever. 

We look forward to another adventure every year and hope to continue visiting this tropical paradise as long as possible. The fact that there are occasional mishaps is one of life's guarantees, just like bug karma's guarantee.

I try not to dwell on the "ifs." BUT! If we had been responsible for something negative happening to Hummer, I shudder to think...