by John Hansen
I cleared my throat. “Um…Madame Josephina? We’re looking for Madame Josephina, the spider whisperer. Are you her?”
“I am she.” She curled her long bony finger at us, a silver spider ring twinkling at me like a bad dream. “Follow me.” Not waiting for our reply or knowing if we would follow, she ascended up the wooden stairs, her boots making the slightest of whispers.
We were near the top when she continued, “They don’t like me to do business down there.” Her voice was smooth and velvety, her motions precise and graceful.
She pushed aside a door of glistening copper beads and gestured for Melanie and me to enter. The mostly tan room that she led us to was a living room which yielded little light, not that there wasn’t windows because two lined the far wall and another was on my left, but all were covered by long camel-colored drapes. A variety of greenery broke up the tan monochromatic color scheme, making it look alive and earthy.
While the center of the room featured a cozy couch and love seat, nestled on opposite sides of a simple wooden coffee table, the focal point seemed to be the wall on my right behind the sofa. Rows of terrariums in all shapes and sizes were situated in an elaborated shelving unit that spanned from the floor to the ceiling.
My eyes darted away immediately. A spider whisperer could only have one type of creature—the eight-legged variety—in those terrariums, and if I caught sight of any of them, I didn’t think I could calmly and rationally talk to Madame Josephina.
Madame Josephina glided over to the sofa and seated herself at the edge of the middle cushion with her ankles crossed and her hands clasped around her knee. Melanie and I sat across from her on the love seat. As if Madame Josephina had expected us, three tall dew covered glasses were in the middle of the coffee table.
Melanie gave me a sideways glance then spoke to Madame Josephina. “My name is Melanie Walker and this is my sister, Mia Cooper. We had hoped you could help us. You see, we were cleaning out our father’s shed…”
Madame Josephina held up a hand interrupting my sister. “Sadly, I’ve heard what happened at you father’s house.” Melancholy tinged her soft words, but her eyes contradicted them, zeroing in on me condemningly. My hands fisted at my sides. I didn’t know what I had done to have to deserve her callousness, but after a moment, I mentally shrugged it off, believing I was still jumpy from my encounter with the spiders.
“Then you’ve heard about the attack?” Melanie asked.
“Indeed.” Her eyes met mine again.
That’s twice. I shoved my fisted hands under my thighs trying to not to show my irritation. Putting on my sweetest fake smile, I asked, “We just left our father’s home. It happened only a short while ago. How did you hear about it so quickly?”
She gestured to the dewy glasses of water as an offering. Wanting nothing more than answers and to rid the critters from the shed, I shook my head, but my sister picked up her glass and took a sip. Madame Josephina turned slightly to face the terrariums. Her finger extended and a large brown spider the size of a baseball crawled across the back of the sofa and onto her hand. Carefully, as though holding a precise gem, she cupped the spider and faced us again. “They, the spiders, told me of the mutilation—the assassination.”
My shoulders tensed, and I slid further back in my chair to create more distance between the spider and me. “What mutilation? What assassination?”
“The killing of their brethren by you.” Her jaw jutted toward me while she gently stroked the spider as though she petted a dog. “They hear your words. They know the abomination you hold against them. They see when you kill one of their own. Their whispers spread like a breeze in the wind. I know what you have done and their retaliation and why you have come.”
“Mia didn’t know what she was doing,” Melanie said. I didn’t need my sister defending me and glared at her, but she continued as though she needed to soothe the obvious tension in the room. “Her fears compelled her to do awful, unimaginable things to these animals. I am sorry for that, but you need to understand, they need to understand, the shed is—was—our father’s. He’s dead now. But it has the last parts of him in it. We need to finish what we started. We need the shed back. Will you speak with the spiders that are in there, make them understand? “
I kept my mouth shut, digging my fingernails into my palms under my thighs. Madam Josephina continued to stroke the spider, her eyes closed as though considering. An entire minute passed before any of us spoke.
Madame Josephina set the spider back on the outside edge of a terrarium. “Thank you, Jasper,” she said to the spider. It scurried up the side and crawled inside. Madame Josephina turned back to us. “I have asked Jasper his opinion in the matter. That is, if I should help you or not. He doesn’t believe Mia feels remorse for her wrongdoings.”
“My wrongdoings!” I snapped, standing. “So what, I killed a spider or two that was crawling on me, invading my personal body.” I grabbed Melanie’s arm and yanked her to her feet and said to Madame Josephina, “Look lady, we came to you for help to rid those spiders, so we can go through what belongs to us. If you aren’t going to help then I’m sure the friendly exterminator down the road will.” Feeling too overwhelmed to wait for a reply, I headed to the steps with my sister in tow behind me.
“Wait,” Madame Josephina hollered. “I don’t want you to call the exterminator. I’ll talk with them.”
“You’ll make them understand. I want them out. All of them and for that matter any that are residing on the entire property—the house and the land too.”
“You can’t mean that?” Melanie shot me an appalled expression.
I squinted, casting daggers that told her I wasn’t backing down.
Madame Josephina’s smooth face blanched. “Do you know what you’re asking?”
“I do.”
“But you’re going to upset the balance of nature. I’m sure with my help; you and the spiders can coexist together in harmony.”
Only a split second of indecision crossed my mind. I had left this town to get away from the overwhelming amount of bugs and highly doubted ridding one property of spiders would really mess Mother Nature. I shook my head. “I want them out. If not, I’m calling the exterminator.”
Before she had a chance to try and change my mind, I added, “So what time can we expect you?”
Madame Josephina sighed, her shoulders slouching in defeat. “Two o’clock. Does that work for you?”
I nodded approvingly and gave her the address. She walked us down the steps, but before she closed the door behind us, she said, “Melanie, you seem to be the voice of reason. It’s not too late. I still think you and the spiders can coexist. Don’t take them away in their entirety. Talk to Mia.”
Melanie smiled weakly. “I’ll try.”
***
Melanie and I ate lunch at Hoagie World where she kept her word to Madame Josephina. On a number of instances, she reiterated the good qualities of spiders while justifying their need in nature. She also explained that her intentions were to never rid them of the property, only of the shed and that was just while we go through Dad’s things.
Each time she tried, I countered by shaking my head and saying, “No, I want them out. Every one of them and especially that big one.” The image of the dog-sized spider with legs the length of tent poles crawling toward my sister sent shivers up my spine.
By the time we pulled in the driveway of Dad’s house, I was more adamant than ever that all of the spiders had to go. Madame Josephina’s car—a black hearse with her name and job title painted the side—was parked in the driveway but when I looked in the windows, she wasn’t in it.
Melanie shrugged. “She must be around back already.”
I nodded and followed Melanie to the back of the house when she stopped abruptly in front of me. The muscles in her back tensed. Slowly, I peered around her and gasped.
The shed was fifty yards away tucked under the canopy of trees surrounded by the tall grass and bramble, but
I could still see Madame Josephina as though we were much closer. She sat on a plastic chair near the doorway of the shed with her back toward us. Her ankles were crossed and her hands were rested softy on her knees. She seemed to be relaxed, yet spiders in different hues of black and brown in all kinds of size surrounded her from every angle. The largest, the dog sized spider, was centered in front of her, nodding its head as though it understood.
Melanie and I exchanged nervous glances but did not advance on Madame Josephina and the army of spiders. Time ticked by excruciatingly slow. Finally, the spiders directly in front of Madame Josephina moved backwards allowing her to stand and turn toward us. “Have you come to a decision?” she asked us.
My sister intertwined her hand with mine. She said, “We may not be completely in agreement, but I must accede with Mia. We want all the spiders to evacuate.”
Madame Josephina nodded. “Very well. I suggest you step back and caution you not to move. They have agreed to your conditions, but request that you do not interfere while I relocate them.”
“We won’t.” Melanie squeezed my hand.
I simply nodded unsure my voice would work properly.
Like the parting of the Red Sea for Moses, Madame Josephina opened her arms wide and hesitantly stepped forward. She nodded to her left and then to her right as the spiders made way for her to move through the overgrown path. As she gracefully ambled forward, the spiders marched behind her, holding their heads high. I felt like we were the spectators for a Memorial Day parade, honoring the brave soldiers from our country, except these weren’t men and women dressed in uniforms. Heck, they weren’t even human.
When Madame Josephina passed us, taking slow precise steps, she glanced at us disapprovingly and warned, “Don’t move. I will be back as quickly as I can once they are loaded in my car.”
Following her orders, my body stayed rigid, as did Melanie’s.
Spiders crept down the walls of the house and came from both sides of the yard. They converged in the on-going processional, the smaller legged ones moving twice as fast to keep up with the strides of the larger spiders.
“My God,” Melanie breathed softly. “There must be hundreds, possibly thousands, of them.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, clutching Melanie’s hand as though it was my lifeline. “I’m going to need lots and lots of therapy after this.”
She giggled hauntingly.
Thirty long minutes later, Madame Josephina strolled toward us. Her arms held the large dog-sized spider I had seen from the shed. She stroked its head. “They are loaded in the car,” she announced. “You may move freely now.”
“But not all of them,” I pointed out, not moving from my spot.
Madame Josephina looked down at her pet then back up at me. “Yes, I guess that is true. But I assure you, all are loaded except Maximo. He insisted on coming back to greet you. He wants to give you a message.”
Melanie’s face paled, but she mustered up a weak smile. “What is it? What do you need to say Maximo?”
Tucking in a long black leg that slipped out from her arm, Madame Josephina said, “Maximo thinks his size frightens you both, but really he is a big softy.” She nuzzled her cheek near his furry face.
“The message,” I glowered impatiently.
She lowered the spider and protectively cradled him again. “He says the answers you seek are in the shed—the bottom box furthest back in the shed.”
My eyes narrowed. “What answers? I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
Madame Josephina glanced back down at the spider, her eyes searching him as though holding a private conversation. When she looked back up, she said, “Look for the box with a big red ‘X.’ It holds your answers.”
“What answers?” Melanie tried this time.
“The answers Mia seeks. Now I must go. They grow restless crowded together like they are in the car.”
She turned and disappeared around the corner of the house. Although she told us we could move neither Melanie nor I had until we heard the roar of the hearse’s engine and the crunching of its tires on the gravel driveway.
We let out audible breaths. Then Melanie started for the shed. I quickly followed after her. “What do you think Maximo is talking about?” I asked, pushing bramble out of my way.
“I don’t know. You really aren’t seeking answers to a question?”
“Not that I’m aware of. If you remember, I didn’t even want to come to this shed.”
“Hmm… I guess we know which box we need to start with.”
We pushed the boxes that we had left abruptly to the side and began lifting and shifting the top boxes off until we reached the box with the red “X”. We centered the box between us and exchanged an anxious look.
“Ready?” Melanie asked.
I inhaled a sharp breath. The last box I had opened caused a spiral of terrifying events in the past few hours. I didn’t know what could possibly be in the box and how it would answer questions, but the curiosity won over my lingering fears. I nodded to my sister. “Open the box.”
She yanked the tape off and pulled down the flaps. “It’s only a bunch of camping gear,” Melanie announced.
I leaned down further and searched through the contents with her. There were two Barbie sleeping bags, a green tent, metal campfire forks, a couple of lanterns, and one doll that was smudge in a layer of grim.
She continued, “I didn’t even know Dad kept this stuff. What do you think it means?”
I shrugged. “The doll was mine, but most of it really means nothing.” I examined the doll holding it by the very edge of it tattered dress, trying not to touch too much of the filth. I laid it aside. “Let’s see what’s in the other boxes.”
***
By the time we sorted through most of the boxes, the sun had moved across the sky and was directly above the tree line. We had come across some peculiar things, but none like the lost treasures of the box that Maximo pointed us to. I couldn’t keep its contents and the memories that it brought out of my mind. As a young girl, Mom would often set up the tent in the backyard during the summer months. One particular memory had been pushed far back in my mind, but now I could see Mom’s excited face clearly. It was lit up in a way that told me she had something fun planned. I was playing with my doll in the playroom at the front of the house, when Melanie and Mom bounded in.
“Mom said we could set up the tent. We’re going to campout in the back yard,” Melanie shrieked.
“Can Stacey come to?” I asked.
Mom scooped me up in her arms and spun me in a circle. “Sure you and your doll can both come.”
That evening, Mom went on a scavenger hunt finding grasshoppers, beetles, earwigs, and spiders to show Melanie and me. They crawled on our hands and up our arms. Their light touch tickled my skin and I giggled. We put them in canning jars with holes in the lids. At dusk, we caught more bugs—fireflies. It had been a joyous occasion except for the few times that Mom clutched her stomach as though it hurt. In my nearly five-year-old, high pitched voice, I asked, “Mama, are you sick? Do you need to lie down?”
“I’ll be fine, honey.” She tousled my hair. “This is yours and your sister’s night. I don’t want to ruin it.”
When the sun finally settled behind the horizon, we let all the bugs go and cooked s’mores over a campfire. I sat in my lawn chair, eating my snack, and stared up to the stars. They shone brightly since no clouds covered them. Mom pulled up a seat next to me. I asked, “Do you think I will ever be able to look down on earth from up there?”
“You want to be an astronaut?”
I nodded. “That or a doctor for bugs.”
Mom laughed, but her amusement quickly faded as she pointed to the stars, “I don’t know if you will ever be able to go up there your lifetime, but I hope all your dreams come true.” She paused as though considering her words. “And if they don’t, you can always look down on earth from heaven. I know my grandpapa is looking down on us now, just as his f
ather before him is too. Do you understand?”
“Yes mama. People who die go to heaven.”
She looked down at me and smiled.
Mom died that following autumn. Cancer.
A teardrop trailed down my cheek. I didn’t want Melanie to see my anguish and stepped outside of the shed. The stars were slowly emerging, but the sky still shone in pinks and oranges. My eyes scanned the backyard. Although overgrown grass and bramble covered the area where the tent and fire pit had been, its image was burning in my mind.
Melanie came up beside me and when she saw my expression, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
I told her my last camping memory and what Mom had said about looking down from heaven.
“So you think she is watching us now?” Melanie asked. Her tone was agreeable as though it was what she believed.
“I do.” I paused, coming to a new conclusion that I never thought I would have. “And Melanie, I think … I think I want something else.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to come home—to this home.”
“What about New York?”
“It’s not home. It never was.” I paused letting her consider my revelation before continuing, “I know you and Brandt can’t afford to keep your house and this one, but this is my house too. I don’t want you to sell it. I’ll do whatever you ask. Pay you for your half of the inheritance. Just don’t sell it.”
Tears welled in her eyes. She stretched out her hand and embraced me in a hug. “It’s about time. Welcome home little sis.”
We held each other for a long moment. When we broke apart, she slapped a hand on her neck and groaned, “Mosquito.”
I chuckled, “I guess we need to bring the spiders back.”
She moaned then laughed too.
***
Three months past before I finalized my affairs in New York and found a closer job, and two days after I moved back home, I got up the nerve to visit Madame Josephina again. I greatly misjudged her and the spiders and felt as though I needed to thank her. I stood in front of her door, alone and trying to decide how to phrase my words when she came down the steps and opened the door.