The Unfortunate Heartbreak of Faritook the Earwig

Faritook stood on a rotten old log in the woods, cleaning one of his antennae. Shanamook was about to come along at any moment, and he knew he had to look his absolute best if she were to stop and talk with him. When she finally emerged from the decaying bark, Faritook released his antenna and edged closer to where she would pass.

But Shanamook shuddered when she saw him. She was creeped out by Faritook, uncomfortable with how he always stared at her, his mandibles moving as if eating something invisible. And though they had seen each other a few times in passing, nothing more had ever transpired between them. They were just two earwigs that passed on the log.

Faritook became increasingly nervous as she got closer, his prepared compliment ready to be spoken. But Shanamook was desperate to make him understand that she just wasn’t interested. An idea suddenly came to her, one that was certain to scare him off completely: she plopped her abdomen against the bark and excreted explosively (causing a nearby centipede to bolt away screaming). After wiggling out the last of it she proceeded on her way, convinced Faritook would no longer have any interest in her.

But Faritook did not seem to notice. In fact, he appeared more smitten than ever. “Hello Shanamook!” he said as she passed, his antennae twirling with excitement. “You’re looking quite lovely this afternoon.”

Shanamook’s compound eyes double bugged out. Say what? Did he actually like that? Shanamook was in total disbelief. And since she was unable to come up with an appropriate response, she simply sped away. What else could she do? After reaching the orange fungi at the center of the log she glanced back: Faritook just stood there, mandibles extended, staring at her cerci. “What a roach!” she clicked to herself.

After Shanamook disappeared behind the fungi, Faritook dropped into a nearby fissure. There he paced the length of it, dragging his antennae as he tried to figure out what he’d done wrong (the image of her untimely excretion now a suppressed memory). Had he not spoken the words correctly, genuinely? Why had she ignored him?

Faritook got an idea and ran back to his bachelor chamber.

“Where is it? Where is it?” he muttered to himself, using his pincers to toss aside all kinds of crap he’d collected from a nearby house. “I know you’re in here somewhere!”

It was only after he’d made a complete mess of the place that he found what he was looking for: a piece of red frill taken from a discarded toothpick. He brought it over to a shard of mirror and wrapped it around his neck like a scarf. I look good, he thought to himself. Sophisticated. Debonair!

“Now she’ll just have to stop and talk with me!” he said with confidence.

At about the time Shanamook was due to return, Faritook stood on the earwig trail with his slick new scarf blowing in the wind. “Any minute now,” he said with eagerness. But after half an hour, Shanamook had still not returned. Faritook began to worry. Was she lost? Hurt? Drained by a spider? In the belly of a woodpecker?

Faritook cried out: “Shanamook, where are you? Why have you not returned?”

A passing banana slug stopped in front of Faritook and said, “Hey… Fari… took. Saw… Shana… mook… not… long… ago. She… is… okay. Do… not… worry. She… is… —”

“She’s what!” Faritook interrupted.

“She… is… at… —”

“She’s at what! Where is she? You fool!”

“Minta… mook’s… place,” the slug finished.

“Mintamook’s place? But what would she be doing at Mintamook’s place?”

“I… don’t… —”

“Never mind!”

“Right. No… time… for… chit… chat,” the banana slug went on. “Got… to… be… at… end… of… log… by… twi… light. Sons… of… bitches… rac… coons.”

But Faritook was already on his way to Mintamook’s. And when he arrived a few minutes later he noticed a very peculiar thing: the hole leading to Mintamook’s chamber was stuffed with moss. That’s odd, Faritook thought, it doesn’t look like it’s going to rain.

A long moan sounded from deep within the log. “Shanamook!” Faritook gasped. “What is Mintamook doing to you!”

But Faritook knew. Knew because he had seen it all before: the cruelty of his species, the pain they often inflicted upon one other. Yes, Faritook knew—knew that his beloved Shanamook was being tortured in the dark wet depths of the underbark!

“I’ll save you!” Faritook yelled as he pried out the moss with his pincers. As soon as the hole was open he leapt into the corridor, fully determined to be Shanamook’s hero. Light at the far end fluctuated with movement, and Faritook sped toward it through the glow of dead fireflies, several of which were scattered along the tunnel at intervals. When he finally reached the chamber he enlarged himself and burst in.

“Take your filthy legs off her, you damn dirty bug!”

Both Shanamook and Mintamook turned their heads with a screech, their antennae shooting straight up into the air. But Faritook screeched the loudest, for Shanamook sat limberly on a patch of moss, her six legs spread eagle—Mintamook positioned in front of her ovipositor.

“Get the hell out of here, Faritook!” Shanamook yelled.

“Or I’ll tear your puny thorax out!” Mintamook added, opening her pincers.

Unable to regain his composure, Faritook turned and ran down the corridor as fast as he could—completely confused, totally heartbroken, his reproductive organ stiff as a rose thorn.

(From the book The Hunchback's Captive and Others)