The Rainbow Ticks of Ticketyboo

symbiotic relationships in the wild

Gibberish: Flash Fiction Friday - Off and Away

April 4, 2025

Scoot’s Assignment: Write a short story about a good day, including cavernous closeness, a character who is a stowaway, and the sentence, “Don't worry about it.”

Photo by Erik Karits on Unsplash

The Rainbow Ticks of Ticketyboo

I woke up feeling ready to go. It was a good day for a hike: Sunny, but just breezy enough to chase off the worst of the skeeters. And I was right. I had a glorious time in the woods, as I followed a path that snaked through the hemlock and white pine, spotting white tailed deer and foxes as they leaped away.

Later, at home, as I performed the obligatory tick check, I discovered a little stowaway. I would have popped her off, but she was dressed in such gorgeous irridescent rainbow colors, that my artistic and scientific sensibilities would not allow me to harm her. So she stayed, her cavernous closeness digging deep into my flank, as she buried her head into my flesh, suckling to fill  her empty belly with my blood.

Later that week, I went swimming with my friend, Joe. “Dude, did you know  you have a tick hanging off of you?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “I named her Stella. She’s pretty special” I continued, pointing out her prismatic rainbow colored exoskeleton.

“You got yourself a pretty special looking rash developing around the bite, too. You might want to see the doctor,” Joe insisted. Joe was right, the skin around Stella had picked up some rather interesting pretty rainbow colored patterns, but it didn’t itch or hurt or anything, so I wasn’t worried.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. In fact I feel better than I ever have before. Whatever microbugs this lady is carrying in her saliva must be having a salubrious effects on my metabolism. I want to see how far I can push it.”

“Whatever, it’s your funeral, dude,”  Joe snapped, as he dived into the pool. He was used to my weirdness, but he had a low tolerance for creepy crawlies.

A week or so later, I could feel that Stella was beginning to loosen her hold, so I taped a paper bag to my skin around her. I wanted to capture her so I could rear her young under controlled conditions. Once she dropped off into the bag, I released her into a large aquarium, full of damp mosses and tall grasses, a veritable tick paradise. Stella laid a huge mass of eggs under some dead leaves. Unfortunately she died soon afterwards, as ticks do, but a month later the tank was filled with thousands of young, glowing ticks, all hungry for their first blood meal. I trepidiciously decided to let them feed off me. I expected to feel worn out from all the blood loss, but I actually felt invigorated. Apparently this species of tick was a perfect symbiote, exchanging good health in return for life giving blood.

Joe visited me a few times during my experiment and was amazed by my glowing health - he was finally convinced and decided to try my tick therapy on himself, with wonderful results. Joe told all his friends and they told all their friends and at some point social media got involved - soon I had an inexhaustible source of willing test subjects.

I never accepted money. I thought that it would be wrong to charge for something freely provided by nature. I just handed out the never ending tick supply in my lab to anyone who expressed interest. The CDC somehow got word of my new discovery, and published warnings that the ticks might be passing on harmful bacteria along with whatever was promoting the excellent health, but I wasn't worried. I figured whatever bad microbugs might end up in my body would soon be wiped out by the good microguys supplied by Stella's descendants.

A year later, I still feel fine. Whenever I'm asked, I jokingly quip that I'm ticketyboo. My skin has developed a slightly florescent hue, and I have a tendency to glow in the dark, but I feel great. If you ever decide you'd like to give it a try, come on up to the woods! The ticks are biting well this time of year.

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