Gecko

You declare war on your cockroach adversaries at 3:00 a.m. on a bewitching Zancudo night, unaware that your outlook is about to change. Soon you'll work with Nature instead of fighting against the planet.

But for the moment, hunger has blown away the cobwebs of sleep, impelling you to the refrigerator. You switch on the light ... your stomach freezes as adrenalin surges. Abort munchies! The words "night life" take on a new meaning. Big Jim, Little Joan and their nocturnal progeny sneer at you brownly, sentinels guarding the gateway to wee-hour gastronomic indulgence.

"Damn!" You reach for the can of bug killer under the sink. Quick, before they hide! You press the button. Nothing. Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain. "This is it!" you hiss.

Onto the SPF15-besmudged list clipped to your 90-day cash allowance, just after "peanut butter," you scrawl "bug killer." It's chemical warfare. They asked for it. They'll get it. To the death.

* * *

Fact: Chemicals don't get rid of cockroaches.

Proof: Purchase bug killer. Spray cabina. Have headache and nausea. Awaken in darkness. Need instant relief. Switch on bathroom light to locate aspirin. Pull cabinet door. Bottle falls clackety-click into sink, empty.

Foul taste in mouth. Need to brush teeth. But wait. On toothbrush, Old Joe hangs, not only alive, but high on residual toothpaste. Throw brush and Joe in wastebasket. Slam cabinet door. Flop onto bed. Ask Maker, "Why me?"

You lie awake. You know why you have a headache. You know why you're wheezing. You know why your tongue thinks you've been sucking on copper wire.

Scientists are starting to see that chemical pesticides, in the long term and on a large scale, don't work. Over time, they can do the opposite of what we want. Have bug sprays rid civilization of insect pests? No. They're as bad as ever. You've saturated your bathroom with poison, and yet ... See Joe snort toothpaste!

The fittest survive and multiply. We spray to kill bugs. Resistant mutants evolve; we invent stronger pesticides, giving rise to still hardier insects. Eventually, our chemicals get so noxious that they sicken us.

But we still have bugs.

Fact: Chemical pesticides can harm you.

Proof: Head-throb. Copper-mouth. Lung-rasp. You didn't suppose these were manifestations of good health, did you?

Claim: Chemical pesticides are potentially dangerous to the environment.

Some pundits say that chemical bug killers have no long-range environmental risks. They'll cite studies concluding that your bug spray breaks down into harmless elements within hours or days. Their words resonate in minds that see truth as a variable in an economic equation.

Meet the cockroach: order Orthoptera, suborder Blattaria. Also known as Cucaracha Disgustica. They were here before anything remotely like humans roamed this planet. And they'll be crawling around long after our descendants have gone looking for another Earth, orbiting another Sun, perhaps in another Galaxy in a parallel Universe.

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit ... yeah, yeah.

The trouble with chemical pesticides is that we have to make them increasingly potent to keep pace with Nature's determination to preserve insects. Bugs, as species, are hardier than we. They can survive almost anything. A chemical showdown between humans and cockroaches is no contest. Cockroaches win. By the looks of it, they party too.

Who knows how many tons of chlorpyrifos, propetamphos, diazinon, pyrethrins, propoxur, or whatever are used against insect pests every year in this bug-infested world? It doesn't take a genius to surmise that anti-insect chemicals might be bad for this planet, especially in light of the way you feel after imbibing some of the stuff. Some farmers are already using natural, nonchemical, environmentally safe ways to control insect pests. Why can't the rest of us do the same?

As you doze into nauseous, migrainy slumber, Big Jim, Little Joan, and Old Joe huddle under your fridge, antennae quivering with delight as they fill their stomachs on a stray flake of wheat germ.  And they wait.  They wait for you.  They wait for your next hunger attack.  They will crawl out just for the diabolical pleasure of making you sick.  Damn them!  Damn them all you want.   It's no use.

* * *

You awaken to a new morning.

"Bug killer" is still written on your grocery list. You used a whole can of it and need more. Grocery list! Too bad you don't like sauteed cockroaches.

During your morning ocean swim, inspiration strikes. Suppose you had a pet that ate bugs? It wouldn't pollute; it wouldn't poison you. It wouldn't be an antagonist of the Earth, because it would itself be part of Nature.

You can get one. Cheap. It's known as a gecko.

* * *

Brrrrrr. Brrrrrr. Brrr--click:

Geckological Supply C.R., Not Inc.

Good morning.  My name is Francisco. May I ask you some questions about geckos?

Ask and I shall answer you, my son.

I've heard geckos are good for pest control.  Is this true?

Yes.

What is a gecko?

A gecko is a lizard. There are several kinds. There's the gekko gecko (clarifies spelling), also called the tokay gecko because of the sound of its call. Then there's the smaller house gecko. There are others ... the tokay is more or less gray with red dots, and gets about 12 inches long.

About the size of a small cat.

A large kitten, perhaps, my son.

Whatever. Will it eat mice?

Small mice, all kinds of insects.

And cockroaches.

Yeah, the big cucarachas, a tokay will eat. The smaller house gecko is about five to six inches long when it's full grown. It'll eat the little baby roaches but not the bigger ones.

Some of us have big ones.

A tokay will consume them with relish, my son.

Some people are going to nix this whole idea ... a big lizard in the house.

They hide during the day. You'll hardly ever see them. They take up residence behind the refrigerator, or anyplace where you can't see them. They come out at night for food.

And crawl over you and wake you up?

I doubt any gecko would do that. Even at night, if you get up, you'll hardly ever see them.

Do they bite?

Well, they won't come after you. You have to provoke a gecko to get it to bite you, and they're not easy to catch. A tokay has quite a bite, my son. Not poisonous, but nasty.

Not too good if there are kids around.

Small goats get along very well with geckos, my son.

I meant children.

I doubt any child could catch a tokay.

Do you have kids?

No. No small goats, no small people.

Then you don't know, do you?

I suppose not.

I know a kid who could catch anything.

If a gecko bites you, it might hold on.   In that case, put the gecko under running water to make it let go.

Thanks.

If you want to handle a big gecko, pick it up by grasping firmly behind the head.

Just like with a snake. How long do they live?

Good question. I'll have to look it up. Just a minute. (pause) Okay. About six or seven years. Let's see ... If handle, grasp behind head ... Live best in 70 to 85 degrees ... Provide water. Soak a piece of bark or have a watered plant ... Every morning the geckos would start calling at about 3:00 and go till about 4:30 ... an early alarm clock.

Do they have snooze buttons?

What?

Never mind.  Three in the morning?   That's pushing it.  I am lazy.  I sleep in till 5:00.

The author of this article I have here, he had several of the big tokays.

Somebody told me that if a gecko eats all your bugs, it'll run away.

It might. If it can get out. And if you actually run out of bugs.

We will never run out of bugs here, father.

This is true, my son.

What can I feed it besides bugs?

Aren't bugs enough?

Yeah, but ...

Dog food, cat food ...

S'pose I wouldn't want to have a cat around if I had a gecko.

Well, a little gecko would be done for. A tokay might be able to fend for itself.

Guess I wouldn't get off on setting up cat/gecko war scenarios anyway.

You don't want to have small animals around if you have a gecko. Little animals, the tokay will eat them.

Like mice. How much does a gecko cost?

About 15 to 25 U.S. dollars, my son.

And if I get one, a big tokay, then my cockroach problem ought to go away.

Geckos eat most all kinds of insects.

I have a friend who has a gecko. He said that after a couple of months, his cockroaches were gone.

This is the way it happens, my son.

But he lives in Miami Beach, U.S.A.

I see.  Way up North there.

Around here I doubt we would run out of cockroaches that fast.

You speak wisely, my son.

One month's worth of bug chemicals costs about 25 dollars. So if a gecko lives seven years ... multiply ... later.

I can get you many geckos through a wholesaler.

Hey, thanks.  I think I will only need one.

* * *

Your Gecko Connection: Geckological Supply C.R., Not Inc.   Check yellow pages, call, and ask.  If you can't find them, don't worry.   It's only a movie.

Nature is a power greater than humanity. We need to rein in our collective ego and get a lock on the facts. Haven't we been fighting and plundering our planet long enough? This Earth is the only one we've got.

It's an attitude adjustment to start thinking of Nature as an ally, something to be worked with rather than pitted against. But we can't lose a war we don't fight. Surrender can lead to victory.  You know what I mean?

You call a truce. No more fighting. No more headaches, nausea, wheezing. No more bugs.

It's an acquired taste, perhaps ... but geckos are kind of cute, actually. Certainly an improvement over Jim and Joan and their brown, flying, nauseating, utterly despicable friends and relatives.

Copyright 1998, 1999, 2000 by Francisco Carrera.