The Frederick Saga

So, I guess this all started a little over a month ago. The electricity was out in my village and I was on my little broken duct taped phone telling my friend how scary it can be, being in a completely dark house at night in a village by yourself. (some things don’t get better with time, I guess) About 20 minutes after the lights went out, I shushed my friend on the phone and laid perfectly still so I could pay attention to a scratching noise that seemed to be coming from inside my room. “Oh shit, someone is in my house” I said into the phone. I turned on a headlamp that, thankfully I had just put fresh batteries in and stood up to investigate. There was no one in my room, but the loud scratching persisted. I became a bit frantic, thinking that it could be a snake or a large roach. I moved my bed. Nothing. I moved the bookcase and my dresser. Nothing. I finally moved my little desk to find a tiny adorable little mouse looking up at me with a bright orange whistle just below it’s nose (hence the scratching noise, he was pushing it around the floor) I got back into bed and decided out of sheer relief not to take action that night.

The next night was the start of the battle. I found him running around the perimeter of my room, completely unscathed by the fact that a human being was inches away from him at any given moment. Needless to say, it didn’t take me a long time to realize that I was dealing with more than just a mouse. I was dealing with a creature of great intelligence, wit, humor and charm.

Ladies and gentlemen, I was dealing with Frederick.

The next night was even worse. The little bastard taunted me for hours on end. He ran back and forth from various rooms in the house to my bedroom all night long. Making little tiny scratching noises, and thus, keeping me awake throughout the night. I know these weren’t noises of necessity… he wanted to tell me that he was here to stay. He was jabbing at me with his freedom, destroying my spirit with every passing moment. I swear I heard him giggle to himself at 3 am, but it could have been my delirium.

By the third night, I had had it. I got a bucket, a cracker with peanut butter on it and put my game face on. There was absolutely no way he was getting away with another night in my house. I was gunna get him! I strategically moved every piece of furniture away from my wall, so he was forced to move around my room and to the back of my dresser. Once there, I closed him in and discovered his little nest: a half-eaten cracker, some toilet paper, dust and a receipt all in a little pile… I’ll allow time for a collective “aww”… OKAY.

I had to act fast, as Frederick was as quick on his little paws as one would imagine a tiny little mouse to be. I put the cracker in the back of the bucket and set it down behind the dresser and waited. I stood there like a shmuck for a good 20 minutes just waiting to hear his little teeth munching and little paws scratching in the bucket. Finally, victory ensued. I lifted the bucket and caught him. I took pictures with my dust covered digital camera and mentally shook hands with him as he really did put up a good fight. I released him behind my compound and went on to clean my little village house, ridding it of all his little ‘gifts’. I climbed under my mosquito net and got back into bed with a sigh, unaware of what was to come.

I had a night of peace. I slept like a baby and was quite proud of myself to have caught a mouse single-handedly without hurting him. I didn’t take into account that he might be back. Let alone within a 24-hour period. Did you know that mice find their way back to any place they have been in the past simply by smell? Fuckers. 

So, I caught him again, only to find that he had gotten smart to my ways and jumped out of the bucket onto my arm and then onto the floor where he hid expertly. Allow me to take this time to point out that no matter HOW adorable a mouse is, it is freaking gross when they crawl on your arm. I chased him around my house and actually had a moment where I moved my couch away and found him. He looked up at me with eyes that said ‘you have nothing in your hands to catch me with, Rachel. What are you gunna do? Really? You have a college education, are standing right in front of me, are 100x my size and still have nothing on me. AND WHAT?’ yep, that’s what his eyes said.

A few nights passed. Frederick and I had a stand off in my kitchen. I found out that he knew how to maneuver in and out of my oven. Yeah, that was a fun discovery. I had nothing on the little guy though. He continued to outsmart me as the days passed. And let me tell you something, you may be sitting there in your comfy little house in wonderful America with safe, eco-friendly mouse traps at your disposal. You may be telling yourself how silly it is that a woman of my age and experience can’t seem to get a handle on literal vermin but I assure you, Frederick was more than just vermin. Don’t you dare judge me. You have no idea what I’ve been through. The horrors I’ve seen.

I caught him again in my bedroom about a week later. I was in bed dozing off to sleep. Then I heard it. Scratch scratch scratch. It sounded like it was coming from under my bed this time. I laid there, too tired to really care. At this point, he had become somewhat of a companion of mine. A roommate if you will. Scratch scratch scratch. It persisted and got louder until I finally decided to open my eyes. I looked up and saw a silhouette. He was on my shoulder on top of the blankets, in bed, under my mosquito net, with me. IN MY BED. I sprang up all the while yelling at him by his name. “Frederick, you little prick! You’re not allowed to be in bed with me” I turned on the lights and it. was. on. I ran into the kitchen and gathered my gear for battle.

I had been through it so many times at this point that I already knew what to get and where to get it. There was no way I was giving up. Tonight, I shall capture the enemy! I shut the bedroom door behind me and continued to lure him into the bucket with the back end of a broom. It took about an hour of going back and forth to finally accomplish my goal. I put the lid of a pot on top of the bucket and transferred him to a comfy little plastic box. I put a washcloth, a cracker and some peanut butter in there for his comfort. I was fully intent on taking him to the center of town the next morning to safely release him. I put the box in my room and got into bed simply exhausted and quite sure that the epic battle had come to an end. Frederick: 3 Rachel: 1. NOPE, scratch that.

I woke up in a daze at around 4 am, after having been kept up all night by his incessant scratching and munching on what I thought was the cracker. I had to get at least 2 hours of sleep, so I moved the box into the kitchen and got back into bed. I woke up a couple of hours later only to find that the little bastard had bested me yet again. He jumped up to the inside of the lid and hung upside down for what had to be hours and chewed his way through the thick plastic that he was contained in. I. Was. Livid.

I was on no sleep and felt quite defeated. I was the female version of emasculated. I was effeminated. I stormed out of my house to my local school as always but couldn’t concentrate. Frederick was on the brain and I was plain old fed up. He had taken over my house, my REM cycle, my happiness and my life. NO MORE. After my last class, I went to the little corner store just outside of town, straight to the “you’ve been taken over by a mouse you idiot, it’s time to kill it” aisle. I ripped the mouse-killing pellets off the shelf and started making my way to the check out counter. As I was walking, I flipped the box over with a grin and started to read how Frederick would meet his untimely demise. I stopped dead in my tracks and my smile faded… that little angel popped up on my shoulder and commenced her evil plot to convince me that killing him wasn’t the best way to go. I mean looking back, how could I kill a creature so smart, so sly, stubborn, and ruthless… so much like well, so much like me? He got what he wanted at all costs, risking everything without fear or pause. I hung my head, walked back to the shelf, placed the pellets back where they belonged and made my way out of the store. I would get him but on my own. The right way.

I didn’t see Frederick for a couple of nights after that. I thought that maybe he had realized that I was no longer playing nice with him, and retreated. I took it as a draw on his part and had gained a little more respect for him as a result. Unbeknownst to me, he had been there all along. He realized that the quieter he was, the less likely I was to act on his presence. Hence the term, ‘quiet as a mouse’, I’m sure. From now on, I will be using the phrase ‘Quiet as Frederick’. Please make a note of that.

A couple of peaceful nights passed me by and I was none the wiser. I was in bed, listening to the sounds of my village… mostly livestock, when I saw him. He came in through my bedroom door and hung out by my laundry for a minute. I took a deep breath and paused before commencing with the inevitable next step. It was a routine at this point. Moving the furniture away from the wall, getting the bucket, a cracker with peanut butter, my broom, shutting my door and putting a towel in the crack that he’s escaped through so many times. I waited with bated breath for him to grace me with his presence behind the dresser. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into an hour and finally, as it was meant to happen, I caught him. Again.

I put the lid over the bucket and sat with it for a minute. I thought about the endless amounts of ways he could get out as the night progressed. I held the bucket and listened to him jumping repeatedly inside of it, making the lid shake. It broke my heart a little to think of him hurting his head. I couldn’t bare the thought of waking up the next morning, only to find him dead inside of my trap because he didn’t have enough air. It was about 9 pm at this point and I couldn’t very well leave my house to take him away because as you know, it’s unsafe after dark. 

I transferred Frederick to an all-metal pot and duct taped the lid on. There was no way he would escape this time. I tried to get comfortable in bed, but couldn’t. I was sure that my predicament was unique to all of humanity. There was simply no way another person had experienced anything like this. Soon after, I came to terms with the fact that unless I did something about Frederick’s presence, there would be no sleep for me. I got up, changed my pants, put on shoes and walked to the Raborokwe’s house. I knocked on the door and summoned 2 of my younger brothers. They were less than pleased that I was dragging them out of the house into the night to release a mouse. They were however, compliant as they realized that my stubbornness is matched by none. We walked for a little while, with Bobby (our massive guard dog) trailing not too far behind us. The boys laughed and giggled at me in Setswana, which left me completely unscathed. I had come to terms with the fact that my white ass is misunderstood by even my own family. 

Frederick is living his best life now. Undoubtedly in the African bush enjoying the sunsets and smells of the village.