“A small scorpion problem...”

I kneeled into the back seat of the car to set down the camera bag when what appeared to be a dead bug fell from the bag onto the seat. I reached down to grab it with my thumb and forefinger to remove it from the car when it suddenly moved. With my fingers not more than a centimetre or two away, I thought that this little bug must actually be alive. Worried that it may be a bee, I pulled my fingers back and leaned my head forward for a closer inspection. Then it became clear that this little arthropod was no bee at all, but instead, a tiny little scorpion, about the size of a dime. If I’ve learned anything from Indiana Jones, it’s that the little ones are the most poisonous.

“Denielle! Can you get me a piece of paper or a pen or something?” I enquired.
“What for?” She replied.
“It seems we have a small scorpion problem in the car.” Actually, the problem seemed somewhat large in comparison to the diminutive beast. We were just in the process of packing up the car to leave Santa Teresa with Skya and Nicole, so I had been trying different forms of luggage stacking and packing to ensure that we would all make it up to Tamarindo for the night, so we could have a quick trip to drop Skya off at the airport in the morning. Before fully exercising my tetris skills of moving luggage around, I had come across this little poisonous guy, trying to hitch a free ride out of evil country. And now it would be my duty to safely remove our uninvited guest from the car, lest he emerge mid-trip and sting one of the rear passengers. That’s probably not something either Nicole or Skya signed up for during the trip.

Denielle brought out a newspaper, and I folded it in half to provide a gentle ramp for Mr. Scorpion to climb up off the seat onto, with a little encouragement from a pen prodding from behind. My first pokes resulted in a full defensive posture, with the scorpion arching his scorpion back and raising his scorpion tail while opening his tiny little claws. Scorpion ready position. I donned my own ready position and tried valiantly to encourage the little guy onto the newspaper, but he quickly turned and ran to the space between the seat back and seat cushion. Fiddlesticks. I would need a better approach. I asked Denielle to fetch some tweezers as I folded the seat back down to get a better vantage of my prey.

This time Denielle returned with tweezers and a look of weariness as thoughts of scorpion residue residing on her tweezers ran through her head. I carefully positioned the tines of the tweezers and moved in towards the enemy. This was now full-fledged scorpion warfare. With barely enough space to insert the partially-opened tweezers between the seat’s edge, I plunged forward and made my strike. The little beast executed evasive manoeuvres, probably learned at some point in scorpion combat school or scorpion basic training, and disappeared under the seat. Well. Crap. Do inform our travelling partners about the renegade scorpion loose somewhere in the car, now agitated from battle, or just hope that the little fella doesn’t reappear until much later on his own accord when he can simply get out at his desired destination?

Too late, the news of the scorpion had broken, and soon Skya emerged to help with the scorpion hunt. We were able to pull the bottom seat cushion up and off to expose the plastic and metal below. After finding a bottle of Ibuprofen and a pair of socks escaped from a bike-bag many months ago, the search began. This was no small feat, as our tiny nemesis could hide in any number of nooks and crannies. Perhaps after Toyota addresses the recall issues, it could then work on scorpion-proofing the underside of back seats in all of its models. And then, right before giving up the search, I spotted the little guy behind the seatbelt anchor point. I reached in with the steady hands of a surgeon and clamped the tines of the tweezers down upon its body. The tiny tail swung violently from side to side, hither and fro, trying desperately to strike whatever had grasped its body. I removed it from the car, walked towards the hill at the edge of the property and flung my adversary into the grass. Victory.

I went back into the house to grab my backpack, and upon lifting it off the ground, I had now uncovered scorpion number two. We were now on scorpion awareness level 3, one step before full-scorpion lockdown. This scorpion was quite a bit larger than the first one encountered, and looked to be a little more aggressive. I grabbed the broom from the closet and swept this adversary towards the open door where he then stopped, turned around and adorned full battle posture. I went and grabbed my camera and got a quick picture of my second foe, approximately an inch long, or 2.54 centimetres for the metrically-inclined. After putting my camera away however, the scorpion had managed to scurry under and behind the door. I went back to grab the broom for defence, and upon opening the door, found that my latest adversary was nowhere to be found. Not my problem anymore. A quick check of the shoes and Denielle’s purse lying on the floor failed to turn up any scorpion evidence, so we turned a blind eye to the possibility of carrying another passenger and finished packing the car.

Tyler.