So ever since I moved into my new apartment here in Myanmar there’s been this fairly loud screeching-like noise that I could occasionally hear outside during the day, but consistently heard IN MY BEDROOM at night. I assumed that what I was hearing was a bat. Given how many little animal friends I’ve seen in and around my apartment already it seemed reasonable that bats were getting in the vents or something. I hadn’t actually seen them, all my food is sealed, and I have a protective net around my bed, so I wasn’t super worried, but it was a tiny bit unsettling none the less.
Then, this morning, I hear it coming from one of the walls close to me and look over to see what I’m dealing with. It’s not a bat. It’s not one of the many giant cockroaches that roam the land. It’s not an angsty teenager bird-kin. It’s a damned cute gecko bro, who I assume is a friendly distant cousin of my boy Alejandro back home. All this time I thought I was dealing with shrieks of intimidation aimed at me, the huge ape that was invading a critter’s home, but it was the war cry of my reptilian bannerman warning the roaches, spiders, and other crawlies that scuttle in the night that as long as he’s around they will stay in the shadows and out of the light.
I now feel safe when I hear that noble bellow. Because he’s the hero my bedroom needs, even if he’s not the one I deserve right now. I won’t hunt him, because he doesn’t deserve it. Because he’s a hero. He’s a screeching guardian. A watchful protector. A Dark Knight.