Alice brushes her teeth

Once upon a time, in a dormitory someplace, something very strange and very unbelievable happened to a little girl by the name of Alice.

Everyone had already fallen asleep when Alice realized that she’d forgotten to brush her teeth. She was awfully fond of her teeth, and dreaded the prospect of cavities and the possibility of ending up looking like a yellow-toothed pirate. She had, however, already tucked herself in and her comforter was pulled up to her chin and well over her ears. She was snug as a bug and didn’t want to budge. Surely, there wouldn’t be much harm done if she missed out on brushing for one night?

Having decided not to get out of bed, Alice drew the comforter closer to herself, rolled over and began to doze, when all of a sudden, an image flashed before her eyes of herself smiling a toffee coloured smile, complete with an eye-patch and all. This was enough to make her change her mind.

She flicked the light switch on, illuminating the washroom, and stood in front of one of the two wash basins while she applied a bit of red sparkly toothpaste to her blue toothbrush. She was just about to turn on the water tap when a shrill voice interrupted her-

‘Excuse me, but do you mind using the other sink? This one’s sort of occupied.’

A standard reaction to such a peculiar happening would have been for the listener to drop whatever they were doing and run for the hills like their life depended upon it, putting as much distance between themselves and the voice as possible.

 Alice, on the other hand, read the kind of books in which children get transported through a wardrobe to a magical land with talking beasts, about greedy treasure hoarding dragons and about a boy wizard who could speak to snakes. Much like her namesake in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland she was likely to have “ believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast”.

She was startled at first, but then recollecting herself, replied politely, ‘Uh, sure,’ as though it were part of her daily routine to hold conversations with mysterious voices coming from sink drains.

 Alice, with a mouth full of foam and a mind full of curious thoughts said- ‘Mite I ashk ‘oo arr yoo?’

‘We’re what you lot call Periplaneta Americana,’ replied the shrill voice.

‘Wha-? Perry-planets-american? What’s that when it's at home?’ asked Alice who had just finished brushing while she carefully screwed the cap of the toothpaste back on to the tube.

‘Cockroaches, Crumb. Just say cockroaches.’ said a wheezy voice.

‘Fine, we’re cockroaches,’ said Crumb in a slightly grumpy tone. ‘Happy Grubbywing?’

‘Very.’ replied Grubbywing.

‘Oh,’ said Alice, ‘so, so, perry-planets-american...does that mean you’ve come here from America?’

‘Nope. We’re local, we are,’ said Grubbywing matter-of-factly, ‘Periplaneta Americana is a name by which many of your kind call us. They call it a scientific name. Some chap by the name of Carl Linnaeus came up with it. In fact, we’re not even native to the Americas. We originally come from Africa and the Middle East. Our kind went to America via the gigantic trade ships that crossed the Atlantic ocean in the 17th century.’

‘I see,’ said Alice.

‘Nymph-human, might we ask what are you doing here at lamplight time when the rest of your kind are snoozing?,’ inquired Crumb.

‘I came to brush my teeth. Don’t you have teeth?’

‘We don’t have teeth. Not what you lot call teeth anyway. And we don’t have to brush ‘em.’ piped Crumb in a high voice.

‘Neat!’ groaned Alice enviously, ‘sometimes I wish I didn’t have to brush so often. But we must do it twice a day! Everyday!’

‘It can’t be as bad as all that, at least you don't have to go around stealing food when no one’s looking. I haven’t had a good piece of paper in aaages,’ sighed Grubbywing dismally, ‘starchy book bindings are a favourite of mine, Crumb is partial toward bakery stuff and sugary thing-a-ma-jigs. We’re not that picky otherwise.’ 

‘If it’s spare paper that you’re looking for, you might want to try the big wooden cupboard in the corner on the ground floor. It's full of stacks of paper and old notebooks that nobody actually cares about. But I don’t know how you’d manage to get in, the crevice is pretty narrow.’

‘Don’t you fret, we’ll find a way. We’re determined like that. Grubbywing here broke a part of his foot once, trying to break into a rather secure kitchen cabinet.’

‘Oh! I’m sorry!’ exclaimed Alice.

‘Don’t be. Don’t be. It grew back and it’s fine now.’ said Grubbywing airily.

‘Fancy that! Can you fly too?’ asked Alice eagerly.

‘I can. Crumb here, who’s just a nymph can't. Maybe in a few months' time.’

Alice felt that she was pushing her luck here, but she asked anyway in a small voice, ‘Can I- can I see you fly?’

‘I’m sorry nymph-human. First of all, we can’t stand bright light, what with our mosaic vision and all. And second of all, we’re not very trusting of your kind. As soon as one of them spots us, why! they whack the living daylights out of us.’

‘I understand,’ said Alice slightly sadly, ‘well, goodnight then.’ she said as she was turning to leave.

‘Nymph-human?’

‘Yes?”

‘Thanks for the tip about the cupboard. We do appreciate it.’

‘Anytime.’

 In the several years that had passed, Alice often thought about the odd little conversation that she had had on that night. She never told anyone about it because she figured that no one would believe her if she did. At times, even she had wondered whether it was real. She went on to become a famous Entomologist and she published several books on bugs, especially on cockroaches. And oftentimes, when no one was looking, she could be caught calling into sink drains- “Grubbywing, has Crumb learned to fly yet?”

-Fenelina Geraldine D’souza