Euche

Euche (yoo’-kay): A vow to keep a promise.

“I swear to God I didn’t do it—I might’ve made a promise, but I never intended to follow through on that one. I never promised a family trip to Italy. I was crazy! But now, I’m going to make a promise I intend to keep. I promise to take us on a hike in the Great Swamp National Wildlife Refuge in Green Village—one of the cutest little towns in New Jersey. When I was a kid it was just a swamp. My anscestors hunted raccoons there—at night with hound dogs. When Uncle Howard finally invited me to go along, it was some of the best fun I aver had in my life. Howard sold the carcasses and fur, which at that time was worth $35. That was a lot of money back then.”

We got up early and headed to the swamp. The dirt road was still there, but it ended abruptly at a foot bridge. There was a little trail at the end of the bridge that ended at a shore. The swamp had been flooded! There was a big sign that said “Do Not Enter.” We were going swimming later on in the afternoon at Lake Hoptacong so we had our bathing suits. I was determined to have our hike. The mosquitoes were starting to get wind of us, so we sprayed up knowing that it would wash off in the water. We suited up and crossed the footbridge and stepped into the water. We walked about five feet and the bottom dropped off about four feet deep. Our daughter was up to her neck and screaming. I put her on my shoulders and we forged ahead. We came to a hillock. It rose above the water and had trees growing on it. I got out the insect repellent and spayed us all up again. The mosquitoes formed a thick cloud around us. Their whining sounded like little race cars racing around a track. It was starting to drive me crazy.

I saw a black ball in the crotch of a tree. I was curious. I got really close and touched it before I realized it was a tick nest! The second I touched the nest, all the ticks disappeared. Then, I felt a crawly sensation inside my shirt. I tore open my shirt and my chest was covered with ticks. They had latched onto me and were sucking my blood. There was so many of them, I could hear a slurping sound. I thought if I stood up to my chest in the swamp water that they would drown. They didn’t. The only option was Morristown Memorial Hospital emergency room.

As we rode to the hospital, the slurping got louder and I started to feel weak. When we got to the hospital, the ER nurse told me to open my shirt. She yelled “Holy shit” and people crowded into the examination room taking pictures with their cellphones and asking politely if they could pose with me. Ten Candy Stripers were assigned to work on me with Tick Tordaes, pulling out the ticks without leaving the heads behind.

I wrote a book about the incident titled “Tick Tick: Deadly Encounter.” I take some poetic license in the book, like the tick nest is overseen by an evil spirit—a Tick God. Another example of poetic license is the hospital duty nurse falling in love we me, drugging me, and trying to abduct me.

If you’re thinking of taking a family outing to the Great Swamp, bring a lot of bug spray and don’t touch anything that you’re clueless about.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)

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