Tarantula Toes

by Beverly Lewis

  But Jason was worried.

  What if the spider shipment didn’t come? What would he tell his friends? Another made-up story?

  He carried his plate to the sink.

  “Sorry about your spider,” his mother said.

  His father spoke up. “It’s supposed to arrive on Monday.”

  Jason shrugged.

  Supposed to, he thought.

  He felt even worse.

  FIVE

  On Monday, math class took forever.

  Yuck times two, thought Jason.

  Science lasted too long. So did morning and afternoon recess.

  Double phooey.

  Jason didn’t say much to Dunkum or Eric. And they didn’t ask about Pinktoes.

  I hope they’re keeping my secret, Jason thought.

  But he knew better. They didn’t believe him.

  Not one bit.

  After school, Jason waited for his father.

  Time to go to the pet store. Again!

  This time, Jason didn’t go near the glassed-in tank.

  He was a jittery worry-bug. He crossed his fingers behind his back.

  The clerk came right over. “Jason Birchall, right? We have a pink-toed tarantula with your name on it.”

  Jason couldn’t help it. He smiled. “Cool stuff,” he said.

  The spider shipment had come!

  Now Dunkum and Eric could freak out. They could be ’fraidy cats. But best of all, they’d believe him.

  Jason peeked at the glass tank. He whispered, “How’s it going, Pinktoes?”

  The spider was still as the moon.

  Was he breathing?

  Nothing moved. Not even his fangs.

  “Today you’re gonna be a Cul-de-sac Kid’s pet. My pet,” Jason explained.

  The black spider started to move. His long legs crawled toward the glass. He came up to Jason’s face, on the other side of the glass.

  “Excuse me, young man,” the clerk said.

  Jason stepped back.

  The man removed the top on the tank.

  Jason pointed to the black tarantula. “I want that one.” The spider’s long legs had pinkish spots on the tips.

  “He’s beautiful,” said the clerk. “A very good choice. I hope you’ve read up on these furry fellows.”

  “Oh yes,” Jason replied. “I know all about them.”

  “Then you know how to pick them up?” the man asked.

  Jason nodded. “With my fingers away from its fangs.”

  “Very good.” Then the man showed how to handle the spider.

  “That’s how my spider book said to do it,” said Jason, watching.

  “OK,” said the clerk. “You’re all set.”

  Ya-hoo!

  Jason felt like a billion bucks. But he only had twenty-five. Plenty to buy his new pet.

  His father spoke up. “Jason knows a lot about frogs, too.”

  “Oh?” the man said. “Do you own a frog?”

  “Yes, but Croaker and Pinktoes won’t be tank mates,” Jason was quick to say. “Besides, Pinktoes doesn’t eat frogs.”

  The clerk’s eyelids blinked. “You’re one hundred percent correct.”

  “I have to be,” Jason said. “It’s Zoo Month. And I’m starting my very own zoo.”

  “A zoo?”

  “A zoo in my room.” Jason grinned.

  “An excellent place for your Pinktoes,” said the clerk. “Now, that’ll be nineteen dollars.”

  Flash! Out came Jason’s wallet. He’d saved up for a long time.

  “Just one spider today?” asked the man.

  “One for now,” Jason said. “Maybe more later.”

  “We’ll see about that,” his father said. “We’ll see what kind of zoo keeper you are.”

  Jason smiled a big smile. The best part of the day had finally come.

  Pinktoes was going home.

  Hoo-ray!

  SIX

  After supper, Jason went to Dunkum’s house.

  “There’s a super-spider in the cul-de-sac,” he said.

  “Yeah, right,” Dunkum’s eyes narrowed.

  “I’m not kidding,” Jason said. “Come over and see for yourself.”

  Dunkum rolled his eyes. “He didn’t really crawl all the way from the pet store. Did he?”

  Jason shook his head. “I should’ve told you the truth before. I’m sorry.”

  “Why’d you lie?”

  Jason shrugged his shoulders. “I thought you’d laugh at me. I thought—”

  “Forget it,” Dunkum said. “Just don’t do it again. Deal?”

  “Double deal.” Jason started to feel better inside. “When do you wanna see Pinktoes?” he asked.

  “Maybe after school,” Dunkum said, but he looked like he didn’t believe Jason.

  “OK, see you then.” Jason ran next door to Abby Hunter’s house.

  He invited her and Carly, her little sister, over. And their adopted Korean brothers, Shawn and Jimmy.

  “Yikes, I don’t know,” Abby said. “Sounds creepy. Do you really have a tarantula?”

  Jason grinned. “Sure do! And Pinktoes will stay in his tank. Don’t worry.”

  Carly and Jimmy came to the door.

  “Wanna go see Jason’s tarantula?” Abby asked them. “He says it’s from South America.”

  “Right,” Jimmy said. “Spider no get here from there.” He was still learning to speak English.

  Carly took two steps back. “A tarantula? Nobody has pets like that!” Her eyes were wide and round.

  Jason stood tall. “He looks very scary. I thought I should warn you.”

  “Well, Carly and I probably won’t come then,” Abby said.

  “Jimmy not think there is big spider!” shouted Jimmy. “No way.”

  Jason scratched his head. “Well, there is. Better come tomorrow and see for yourself.”

  Next, he went to Stacy Henry’s house.

  “No, thanks,” she said. “I HATE spiders!”

  “Too bad for you,” he said.

  Jason crossed the street.

  Eric Hagel would be dying to see Pinktoes. Jason was sure of it. Eric would be scared silly, but he’d come anyway.

  Jason was right about his friend.

  “Promise to leave your spider in the tank?” Eric said. “If you really own a Pinktoes.”

  “I really do,” Jason said. “And I’ll keep him in the tank.”

  Next he headed for Dee Dee Winter’s house.

  She was playing outside with her crabby cat, Mister Whiskers.

  “Wanna come see my tarantula?” Jason asked.

  “EEEEE-EEW!” Dee Dee screamed. “Get away from me, Jason Birchall! Don’t make up lies!”

  “Sorry I stopped by,” Jason muttered.

  He pulled himself together and marched home.

  SEVEN

  It was Tuesday.

  Miss Hershey was writing on the board. Her back was to the class.

  Perfect!

  Jason glanced at Abby Hunter.

  When she looked at him, he made his fingers wiggle and crawl. Just like a spider. A big one.

  Abby shook her head and frowned at him.

  Erase boards, Miss Hershey wrote. Stacy Henry.

  Stacy grinned, probably because erasing boards was her favorite job.

  “Lucky Stacy,” someone whispered.

  Jason stared at Stacy. Then he made his spider-y hand.

  Stacy’s eyebrows floated up. She looked the other way.

  Miss Hershey wrote on the board: Hamster helper—Jason Birchall.

  Jason sat tall. Ya-hoo!

  Feeding the hamster was the best job. The coolest for a zoo keeper. A zoo-in-his-room keeper!

  The class said the pledge.

  “I pledge allegiance to the flag,” Jason began. But he was thinking about his tarantula.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about Pinktoes. He thought so hard, he missed six spelling words. He thought so long, he forgot to feed the hamster.


  “What is wrong today?” Shawn Hunter asked at recess.

  “Nothing,” Jason said. “Are you coming to my house after school?”

  “To see fake spider?”

  “Didn’t Abby tell you?” Jason asked.

  “Abby not tell me. Jimmy, little brother, tell about pretend spider.” Shawn’s eyes nearly closed shut.

  “So . . . are you coming?” asked Jason.

  “I not believe you,” Shawn said.

  Jason shrugged. Nobody did.

  He was the coolest, bravest tarantula owner around. And no one believed him!

  Then they ran to the soccer field.

  After school, Jason stood on his front porch.

  He wondered if maybe, just maybe, someone would show up. The sun was in his eyes. So he sat on the step.

  What’s wrong with me? he thought. Why don’t my friends believe me?

  Across the street, Carly and Dee Dee were cutting out paper dolls.

  Abby and Stacy were walking their dogs.

  The boys were nowhere to be seen.

  Jason waited and waited. He went inside to check the clock.

  Next, he went to his room.

  Everything was set.

  Croaker seemed well-behaved. He sat quietly in his glass home on the dresser. He blinked his eyes at Jason.

  Pinktoes was in his tank on the bookcase. He flicked his fangs.

  The zoo-room was absolutely perfect.

  Jason tiptoed to Pinktoe’s tank. “I think everyone’s a ’fraidy cat,” he said. “Everyone on Blossom Hill Lane!”

  Pinktoes looked like he was snoozing. He didn’t budge a single black hair. He was probably dreaming about his next cricket.

  Jason went to the living room. He sat on the sofa.

  He stayed there till supper.

  But no one showed up. Not a single brave kid.

  “It’s very quiet around here,” his mother said.

  Jason got up and helped set the table.

  “I was sorta expecting company,” he said. “But no one came.”

  “That’s strange,” she said. “Don’t the Cul-de-sac Kids stick together?”

  “What?” Jason said.

  His mother repeated the familiar words.

  That’s it, Jason thought. They’re sticking together! They think I’m lying . . . again.

  He felt foolish. And very upset.

  Just then an idea hit him.

  “I’ll show them I’m not lying,” he whispered to himself. “I’ll take Pinktoes’ picture!”

  He was going to prove himself.

  The Cul-de-sac Kids would have to believe him now.

  Then he had another idea.

  It was a better-than-good idea.

  He would have a spider show. He’d invite all the kids. They could see the picture, then come to his amazing show.

  Ya-hoo!

  EIGHT

  After supper, Jason took a bunch of pictures. He used his dad’s instant camera. Then he made invitations. Eight in all. One for every Cul-de-sac Kid. Not counting himself.

  He drew a big, black spider on the front, then he wrote the message.

  Jason licked each envelope shut.

  He thought of all the money he would make.

  What a super-cool idea.

  Eight kids times seventy-five cents. Six whole bucks!

  Six dollars would buy a lot of crickets.

  If only he could get the kids to come.

  He could hear Dunkum bouncing his basketball. That was the first house. He stuck the invitation and the instant picture of Pinktoes on the front door.

  Dunkum glanced his way. “Whatcha got?”

  “Something for you.” Jason forced a smile.

  “Oh . . . thanks,” Dunkum said. But he was frowning again.

  “You didn’t show up today,” Jason said.

  Dunkum shot a basket. “I know.”

  “Well, I thought we had a deal. You know, about not lying?” Jason said.

  “I never promised to come.”

  “Did too,” Jason said.

  Dunkum shook his head. “I said ‘maybe.’ ”

  Jason shook his head. He wasn’t going to push for answers. He’d let the invitation and the picture do their jobs.

  “Well . . . see ya,” Jason said. And he left.

  At Abby’s house, he stuffed four invitations in the screen door. One for each Hunter kid.

  Then he went around the block and delivered the rest.

  He almost stopped to visit Mr. Tressler. He was the old man at the end of the cul-de-sac.

  But Jason was too busy. He had some practicing to do. Lots of it.

  The Brave Tarantula Tamer had a cool super-spider. But no amazing act to go with it.

  So he hurried home.

  First things first. He needed a pair of thin rubber gloves. Something to protect his hands.

  He borrowed his mother’s kitchen gloves. They were too big. Better than nothing.

  Jason dashed to his bedroom. “OK, Pinktoes, it’s you and me,” he said.

  Gently, he took off the lid and reached inside.

  Very slowly, the tarantula crawled onto his gloved hand.

  “Nice and easy,” he whispered.

  He had a jumpy stomach. But he had to be brave.

  Pinktoes mustn’t sense his fear. Not now. Not for their first time together.

  “Here you go,” he said softly.

  Jason put his left hand next to his right. He held them close together. That way Pinktoes wouldn’t fall.

  He must NOT fall, because his body was very delicate. Falling could be a deadly thing.

  Pinktoes went from one hand to the other.

  It tickled. Jason got goose pimples on his goose bumps.

  “Cool stuff,” he said, but not too loudly. He didn’t want to scare his new zoo friend.

  “Can you do it again?” he said.

  Jason moved his hand back. He held his breath.

  The tarantula kept going.

  “Good for you,” Jason said.

  He didn’t want to tire Pinktoes out. So he put him back in the glass tank.

  “We’ll practice again tomorrow. OK?”

  Pinktoes did not reply. Anyone knows tarantulas don’t talk.

  Still, Jason waited. He watched his spider climb the cork bark. “We’re having a show in two days,” whispered Jason.

  Could he pull it off?

  Jason tried not to worry. He looked out his bedroom window.

  The Hunter kids—Abby, Carly, Shawn, and Jimmy—sat on their front steps. They were looking at his invitations. And the pictures.

  Will they come? he wondered.

  Silently, he closed the curtains.

  He crossed his fingers and hoped so.

  NINE

  The next morning, Jason got up before the sun.

  He pulled on his mother’s kitchen gloves. Time to practice his spider act.

  Today he was more sure of himself. Much more.

  And things went very well.

  Jason decided he was braver now. He would practice without the gloves after breakfast.

  His mother wasn’t told about it. Nope.

  This was top secret.

  Jason made his hands flat and firm. Pinktoes crawled over them.

  It tickled just a little. But Jason felt comfortable with his pet.

  No gloves. And no bites.

  Perfect.

  “We’ll practice again right after school,” he said.

  And off he went to school, feeling braver than ever.

  During recess, he had an idea. It was kinda crazy.

  He watched Jimmy Hunter playing in the sand pit. Jimmy was barefoot.

  That’s when the idea hit.

  Could Pinktoes walk over my bare toes? Jason thought.

  He laughed out loud and couldn’t wait to find out.

  “What’s so funny?” a small voice said.

  Jason spun around.

  It was Dee Dee Winters.

 
; “Oh, hi,” he said.

  “Why are you laughing?” she asked. “I don’t see anything funny.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” Jason said.

  Dee Dee made her face twist up. “Well, I don’t know about that, Jason Birchall. Laughing over nothing is pretty weird.”

  He stood as tall as he could. “Oh, you’ll see.”

  “See what?”

  “You’ll see what’s so funny if you come to my show. If you’re brave enough.”

  “Come to a silly spider show? Why would I wanna do that?” Dee Dee giggled.

  Jason hated it when she giggled. But he kept smiling. “Because it’s gonna be amazing. I’m gonna handle my tarantula with bare hands!” he replied. “That’s why you should come.”

  “Really?” Her eyes were bright now.

  “Oh, it’s gonna be so thrilling. Creepy, crawly stuff. Fangs and venom—you know, spider stuff. Better come and see.” Jason grinned.

  Surely this would get her attention.

  The other Cul-de-sac Kids would probably hear about it, too.

  Dee Dee was a little girl with a big mouth. She would spread the word.

  Jason was counting on it.

  TEN

  Thursday afternoon came quickly.

  All the Cul-de-sac Kids were gathered in Jason’s front yard.

  He couldn’t believe his eyes.

  Good work, Dee Dee, he thought. Her blabby mouth had worked wonders.

  “This is super great,” he told Pinktoes. “They’ve come for the show.”

  He carried the glass tank out to the front porch. Carefully, he set it down.

  Then he turned to greet his friends. “Welcome to the most amazing spider show on earth!”

  He wished he had a trio of trumpets. He could hear them in his head. Tah-dah-dah-DAH!

  “Everyone sit on the grass,” he said. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

  He was having a double dabble good time. That’s what Abby always liked to say.

  Dee Dee and Carly seemed nervous, though. Abby would call them jitterboxes for sure. Which was the truth.

  Abby and her best friend, Stacy Henry, were standing nearby. Eyes wide.

  Dunkum and Eric sat crosslegged in the grass. Shawn and Jimmy Hunter seemed excited. A little bit.

  First things first.

  Jason passed his baseball cap around.

  Chinkle . . . chink. The kids dropped their money inside.