Welcome to Gnat City, where the main attraction is … gnats
This was our campsite outside of Lessburg, Florida, in the early 1970s The campground was overrun with gnats. Photo by Del Stone Sr.
My camping adventure comes to a merciful close at a campground we christened “Gnat City.”
Gnat City lies somewhere in the vicinity of Leesburg, which lies somewhere in the vicinity of the Twilight Zone. Gnat City is memorable for (A) hordes of gnats that can exist only in your eyes and nostrils, (B) a lake that possibly hosts tiny, amoeba-like creatures that crawl into your eyes and lethally infect your brain, (C) a gigantic watermelon patch featuring real watermelons in various stages of decomposition, (D) wild birds that will actually fly up to you as you eat and take a dump in your plate, and (E) Satan, the goat with devil eyes.
It is hot when we arrive; it is hot after the sun goes down; it is hot the next day, when, for some incomprehensible reason, we decide to stay. Other than that, it is a nice place, except for:
The gnats – We are talking biblical plague here. The gnats crawl into your ears, your eyes and your nose. If you aren’t careful, you breathe and swallow them. This just about covers the gamut of all human functions, rendering life essentially impossible outside of little screened-in enclosures. Sitting in these enclosures is a truly memorable way to spend a vacation in Central Florida.
The lake – The lake is populated with various animals that are not friends to mankind: alligators, snakes and amoebas that eat their way into your brain, just like in that episode of “Night Gallery,” causing a slow, agonizing death. Fortunately, we go swimming only when we have to, such as when we are attacked by gnats while darting from screened-in enclosure to screened-in enclosure and have to seek refuge underwater.
The watermelon path – I feel like Tom Sawyer as I skulk into the patch after dark to steal a watermelon. I chose a likely candidate, pick it up, and hand sinks into it to the wrist.
The birds – This is a true story. These wild birds, called scrub jays, are so tame they will perch on your hand and eat Wonder Bread, which may explain why so few of them exist anymore (I’m just kidding, little Wonder Bread elf who will clip this and send it to your corporate dungeon masters).
Satan, the devil goat – I call the goat Satan because it has vertical pupil slits for eyes, which remind me of a rock ’n’ roll album cover. Satan lives in a fenced-in enclosure around what I suspect is an open cesspool, which I believe is how Satan travels back and forth to hell to manufacture rock ’n’ roll albums. I notice the gnats don’t seem to bother Satan. Hmmm. Maybe the goat has something there.
At last, mournfully, it is time for our camping adventure to end. I will return to civilization, with is corrupting influences of color television and Jiffy Marts.
We load up the car, and it is with tears in my eyes that I watch the campground disappear behind us in a cloud of dust and gnats, painfully aware I could have spent the past two weeks in an Econo Lodge.
This column was published in the Thursday, June 16, 1988 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .