Blood Suckers

LEECHES
A few years back some of my best friends and I were vacationing at our friend Lisa's family's cottage on The French River in northern Ontario. The cottage was big, beautiful and welcoming, tucked neatly away in the bush just outside of Noelville, Ontario.
It was, and probably will always be one of the greatest cottage adventures I have ever known, except for one small thing.
The fucking leeches.
It was a beautiful day in August, the sun was shining, the wind was warm and gentle, and the motor boat taunted us with the possibility of exploration. The five of us (known as the SCA group) jumped into the small motorized boat and headed out into the water. Lisa propped herself onto the seat behind the wheel and navigated the machine to a favourite swimming spot from her childhood. When we got there it was a bit awkward to park the boat, but in the end the trials of docking were far outweighed by the magnificent little island that she took us to. Our own private resort, minus all things resortish, but it really felt like 'getting away'.
Lisa showed us a rock we could jump off of into water deep enough to make the dive safely, and then rocks which led back up to land. I wanted to run and jump off of the rocks, but instead I investigated my available exits from the water. I noticed ( as I slid uncontrolled almost all the way into the river) that the rocks were
covered in a thin film of algae which made it very difficult to get out of the water. I slid part way into the black abyss before frantically clawing my way back out of the cold aqua. I noticed when I regained composure that my shorts and 'Ocean Pacific' T-Shirt were covered in a thin film of brownish green algae (sludge). My first thought was 'Oh no, that's where leeches live'. I did not want a physical reenactment of the scene in Stand By Me where Gordie Lachance pulls a blood covered leech out of his tightie whiteies.
"Lisa, are there leeches in this water?", I asked.
"Ian, my family has been swimming here all of my life and no one has ever had a leech on them."
I felt pretty good about that....I mean, what are the odds?
I psyched myself up and jumped into the cold black water. Karmen joined me, and then Faustine, the other two stayed on dry land.
It was a bit difficult to maneuver the rocks to get out, which basically means you used your hands to find grooves in the flat slippery rocks and then pulled yourself out of the water like a paraplegic.
We splashed gaily in the water, reinacted baywatch moments and floated lazily in the refreshing cool, we even achieved 'mediocre' status at getting back out.
THEN.......
Karmen got out just ahead of me. She was standing on the dry rock and towel drying her legs as she pointed and laughed and made fun of me trying to get out of the water. I seemed to gain some ground and then I'd slide back down the vaseline slicked rock. My last and successful attempt at getting out yielded the most rewards and I pulled myself to my feet on safe, non slick ground.
Karmen's face turned from the jovial expression of jest to a look of sheer terror when she pointed at my southern extremities and said
"Ian, what's that on your LEG?"
Now, I cannot fully explain how these words left her mouth aside to say that by the time she got to the word leg she was hysterical.
I knew it wasn't a joke.
Nothing at that moment was funny.
I still had to look down.
I gathered up enough balls to look, praying that my nutsack was free of any black slimy carry-ons into this new airplane of heel I had boarded, and I looked down.
There, about mid calf was a small black leech attaching itself to my leg.
"Ian, my family has been swimming here all of my life and no one has ever had a leech on them."
Lisa's words rang in my head. If I were ever that lucky at the fucking Casino I'd be writing a much different blog, unfortunately, my luck is reserved to incidents where I can write blogs about why animals cannot be trusted.
This was one of those cases, and if Lisa was telling me the truth about no one ever having a fucking leech on them, well, this was just another example of piss-poor timing.
I'm not sure a second lapsed between me seeing that I was the host to a blood sucker and wilding flicking at it to get it off of my leg.
Thank God, Allah, Jah, whomever, the little bastard flew through the air and smacked against the rocks a few feet from my feet.
Karmen was still screaming and asking people to look all over her body to make sure that she hadn't been infested.....'No, no Karm, I'm fine thanks'.
When she was assured that no leeches had attached themselves to her she joined the rest of us who stared in amazement at this little black, rubbery looking mo-fo who was shimmying across the granite for the murky shield of the French River.
To this day I am not sure if Lisa lied about the leech problem just so her friends wouldn't be afraid to swim, or if I just proved my shit luck, regardless, anything that eats my blood cannot be trusted.
leeches, go back to the medical lab and be tested, but stay the fuck off of my leg, and lord willing, my balls.