Bite Me Spider: An Eight-Legged Nightmare

by Nora Penn

  It was the face of the spider which unnerved Hannah the most. For this spider wasn’t at all ordinary. It had thick black eyebrows that looked like caterpillars crawling across its forehead. What’s more it had a prickly black mustache and a smiling mouth full of fangs. On top of all that it had a big red nose, like the kind you see on alcoholic old men. But this big red nose hung down from its black head like a crow’s beak. It was so big it almost seemed to poke out of the book. And lastly, there were its eyes. The spider had the eyes of a lascivious old man. They were both swiveled in Miss Muffet’s direction and were obviously focused on her shapely legs, which could be seen underneath the billows of her skirt as she jumped into the air.

  Hannah closed the book with a loud snap. Little Ben started crying.

  “What an awful illustration to put in a children’s book!” she exclaimed out loud.

  She looked down at her baby, whose face was suddenly red and twisted in fear. Tiny tears had appeared on Ben’s cheeks.

  “Now, now, dearie,” Hannah said as soothingly as she was able while in her agitated state. She used the hem of the frilly blouse that served as the baby’s pouch to dry the little tears on Ben’s face.

  Ben stopped crying and looked up at her with a smile. Hannah couldn’t help but smile back, despite all her fears and frustrations. Seeing her baby’s smile she somehow knew that everything was going to turn out fine. They just needed to survive in the meantime.

  Hannah looked across the room at the heavy chest that she had dragged across the trapdoor. It seemed to be doing a good job of keeping the spiders out. She looked to the tightly screwed porthole lid on the window and decided that was safe also. As for the trapdoor in the ceiling, there didn’t seem to be any commotion from above, so that was safe for now as well. The important thing was to remain calm. If they could wait out the spiders, they would survive the ordeal.

  Hannah chided herself for being so easily spooked. Imagine, she said to herself, being frightened by an illustration in a children’s book. She couldn’t believe she was being so silly. She opened the book of nursery rhymes back up and started to read another one at random. This one was much nicer than the last. She read another one after that and yet another one. Eventually little Ben drifted off to sleep.

  Hannah continued to read aloud, suspecting that her voice was acting as a sedative on her little baby. What she didn’t realize was that her voice was acting as a sedative on herself as well. In the middle of a nursery rhyme about kittens, she let her eyes close and let her head slump forward. With the book laying open in her lap, and her baby snoring gently on her chest, Hannah fell sound asleep.

  Chapter 33

  Not only was the Spider ride smooth, but it was incredibly fast. As James and Carol climbed up the side of the Citibank building they passed each floor in a matter of seconds. Each time they traversed a new floor, James looked inside the tinted glass. It was hard to see the passing interiors clearly, but the sun was able to penetrate the glass just enough to give him an idea of what was inside. They were passing level after level of office space, filled with desks and cubicles and file cabinets and water coolers and all the other trappings of office work existence. This was a world that James didn’t know much about. His “office,” for lack of a better word, had always been his fishing boat. And now that he viewed the sterile environment of each passing floor, each one virtually indistinguishable from each other, James was glad that he had avoided the all too common pitfall of white collar life.

  As they headed up the side of the sunlit building, James looked up to see how much farther they had to go. Just as he did, the darkened shape of a head poked out from the top of the building.

  “Holy Moly!” came the astonished shout. James instantly recognized the voice as belonging to Bigsby.

  “Hey there Buddy!” James shouted up to the man. “We decided to come up the fast way. Hope you don’t mind!” James gave a hearty laugh and then added the word “Over!” as a little joke.

  “My goodness!” Bigsby said gasping as they approached. “I’ve never seen anything like this!”

  Bigsby backed away from the railing as James and Carol and their giant spider steed made it to the top of the building and crawled over the tiny railing. The top of the Citibank Building was quite expansive, probably as big as a tennis court, and was covered with various pieces of equipment and supplies, including a tent where Bigsby stayed and a rain reservoir. It was the perfect place to try to wait out an apocalypse.

  Bigsby backed away on unsteady feet as James guided the giant spider to a halt.

  “Sorry to scare you like that Buddy!”

  He gave the knife in the spider’s head a hard twist to not only stop it from crawling but, in essence, to turn it off. He’d discovered through trial and error that this was the best way. He also knew he could “turn on” the spider by twisting the knife in the opposite direction. It was an all-purpose tool, acting as both a steering wheel and a car key. James was grateful to whatever divine force had ordained the spider to act in such a manner.

  Bigsby’s jaw was still open and he had his hand pressed to his chest. James was a little bit worried that the man was going to have a heart attack.

  “Slow down there, buddy. It’s just a giant spider that I’ve managed to tame and use as a steed. Don’t be too freaked out.”

  Bigsby sat down on a folding chair. “I’m just a little bit shocked. You must be some hell of a man to try to pull something like that off.”

  “Well, I’d like to think I’m made of some pretty tough stuff. By the way, this is my daughter – Carol – she’s made of tough stuff too! Ain’t you darling?”

  “I sure am!” Carol squealed.

  “Say hi to Mr. Bigsby!” James said merrily.

  “Hi Mr. Bigsby!” Carol said in her most infectiously friendly voice.

  “Hello to both of you!” Bigsby said with a smile spreading across his face. He was starting to come to understand the situation.

  “Carol is the light of my life…” James said, patting his daughter on the head. “When you and I spoke over the radio, I mentioned that I had a certain ailment, but I had to tell a little white lie. It’s actually my daughter here who has the ailment….” He stroked her hair. “That’s why we’re down here. To see if there’s any truth to the rumors about the blue spider being able to cure cancer.”

  “Why of course!” Bigsby said happily. “I’m so glad you’re both here.”

  “Now I don’t suppose you have a length of chain amongst your supplies, do you, my good man?” James asked.

  Bigsby looked around, nodding. “I’m sure that I do. Give me just a moment.”

  He got up from his lawn chair and rummaged around in a pile under a tarp, finally pulling out a long length of heavy rusty chain.

  “Will this do?”

  James smiled. “Yes, it’s perfect. Could you toss me the end of it?”

  Bigsby did just that. James took the length of chain and looped it, to make a lasso, and then fitted the lasso over the spider’s prickly head.

  Still holding the chain, James untied his makeshift “seat belt” and hopped off the spider’s back. Then he walked over to the metal railing and tied the chain to it. He felt like he was tying up a horse in a stable, which reminded him that their spider steed would need something to eat. As to what that meal might consist of, James hadn’t a clue. He had no idea what the spiders ate when they weren’t eating humans or small animals.

  “You’re not at all like I pictured you…” Bigsby said, eyeing James. “And I had no idea that you had a daughter with you.”

  “Well, I try to keep her a secret,” James said and patted Carol on her head. “You never know what kind of criminal types you might find out here in the spider wasteland. It seems like most of the folks who have survived are downright villains. With some notable exceptions, of course…”

  As he said this, James’ mind traveled back to Bill and Sonja, and of course to his lovely wife Hannah. There was also
Bill and Sonja’s grandson Dylan that they were so proud of. So he knew that there were still good people left in the world. It just seemed like they were outnumbered by the thugs and hucksters. At least for the time being.

  He looked Bigsby up and down as well. He was just as he’d pictured him, kind of a cross between Rodney Dangerfield and Andrew Dice Clay. He looked to be about fifty years old, with face covered with stubble and a head full of wispy gray hairs. All in all he looked like he could use a shave and a haircut. James smiled as he scratched his wooly beard. Of course, he could probably use the same, so he was no one to judge.

  “Say, Bigsby, you don’t happen to have any rations you might share with us, do you? The trip down from Boston was a long one. We’re both pretty hungry.”

  “Why yes I do!” he said happily. “I should have thought to offer it sooner.” Bigsby ambled over towards his tent, where he had a pot set up on a tiny camper’s stove. “I’ve got some Hungarian goulash cooking right now. It’s canned though. I hope you don’t mind!”

  Goulash happened to be one of James’ favorite meals. That said, he thought it was next to a mortal sin to serve canned goulash. He was frankly surprised – and a little disgusted – to learn that such a thing even existed. James wisely set aside his preferences and said. “Of course not! Both Carol and I love goulash, don’t we?”

  “I love goulash, but not canned goulash!” Carol said.

  James patted Carol on her head. “Now, now, darling. We mustn’t be ungrateful to our host,” he chastised her gently and then looked up at Bigsby and smiled. “Kids! Sometimes their tongues are quicker than their manners!”

  “I appreciate her honesty!” Bigsby said laughing. “I’d like some homemade goulash too!”

  He lifted the lid on the pot, letting a puff of fragrant steam rise upward, and gave the stew a stir. Even though it wasn’t homemade the goulash smelled great. James chalked this more up to how hungry they were rather than the quality of the goulash.

  “Well, go ahead and get yourselves comfortable…” Bigsby said and patted a pair of chairs by the camper’s oven. “We’ll eat first and then we’ll scare up one of those blue spiders. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” James agreed and pulled out a chair for his daughter.

  Carol plopped down in the chair and he took the chair beside her. After so many days of non-stop adventure and danger it was nice to rest his bones for a little bit.

  As they relaxed Bigsby gathered up some bowls and silverware. Then he ladled out some steaming goulash for the three of them. Before he served the bowls to James and Carol, however, he ventured one last taste to see if the stew was up to snuff.

  “Hmmm,” he said, with a disapproving look on his face. “It needs just a little more paprika. Give me just a minute.” He turned around and carried the bowls into the depths of his tent, where apparently he kept his cooking supplies. James appreciated their host’s hospitality. Yes, indeed, for all the chaos that he and his daughter had endured, it was certainly nice to run into a fellow as fine as Bigsby. He didn’t know if circumstances would allow for it, but he certainly hoped he’d get the chance to introduce Bigsby to Hannah someday, and to Bill and Sonja as well. Maybe they could pool their efforts and get a little colony of survivors started. And eventually more people could join. Between Bigsby’s good natured hospitality and Sonja’s good cooking and Bill’s fatherly guidance, they should fare quite nicely.

  Bigsby walked back out with the bowls full of goulash and spoons for James and Carol and handed his guests the food.

  “Bon Appetite!” he smiled and spooned out a bowl of goulash for himself. “Let me know how it tastes!”

  James and Carol were both famished and so they dove into their food with great relish, spooning the goulash into their mouths as soon as it was cool enough to eat. As James munched on the stew he did his best to mask his disappointment. It wasn’t that the goulash was bad necessarily, but there was a bitter undercurrent to it, as if Bigsby had accidentally added dill or cardamom instead of paprika. It was edible, but not exactly the delicious feast that he was hoping for.

  “How is it?” Bigsby asked, looking at them both with eager eyes.

  “Delicious,” James lied and shoveled more into his mouth. Even though the goulash was sub-par he needed the nutrients.

  As for Carol, she took a few more bites and then set the half-eaten bowl down on a rickety table.

  “Yuck!” she said with a sour look on her face.

  James was just about to scold her being so rude when a nullifying wave of sleepiness swept over him, knocking him out instantly.

  Chapter 34

  When James came back to consciousness he had the mother of all headaches. The feeling in his skull was like a hangover mixed with the sensation of still half asleep. As he looked around his eyes had trouble focusing.

  “What the hell just happened?” he muttered and blinked a pair of watery eyes.

  He made an attempt to stand and then discovered that his arms were tied with the same type of chain he’d used to secure the spider steed. He looked down and saw that his feet and legs were likewise secured.

  A wave of fear rose in his chest. He shook his head and blinked as fast as he could to regain his focus. As he looked around he saw the blurry shape of his daughter sitting next to him. She was also tied up, except in rope and not chains, and she also appeared to be waking up from a deep sleep.

  They were still on the rooftop, except that now it was twilight and the sun was almost hidden behind the Brooklyn skyline to the west.

  James struggled to break free from the chains that held him, but it was no use.

  “Carol,” he called out in a sluggish voice. “Are you okay?”

  Carol groaned but made no discernible reply.

  “She’s okay alright…” came Bigsby’s voice in reply. “You needn’t worry about that. I just gave the two of you a sedative to knock you out. Neither one of you are actually hurt.”

  “Bigsby…” James managed to push the word out. “What’s going on?”

  “Sorry to do this to you, my Boston buddy. When you and I talked on the URH, you told me it was you who had the cancer. I didn’t know it was your daughter. Although I don’t know if that would have changed anything. The fact is that I need a guinea pig to test my theory. The blue spider’s bite being a cure for cancer is thus far unsubstantiated. I myself have a brain tumor. I was able to knock it back into remission a year ago with chemotherapy. But now it’s back, I fear. I was just about to take the plunge and let the blue spider bite me. But now I have someone to test it on first…”

  Bigsby’s eyes swiveled in his head to look at Carol. James felt a burning rage rise in his chest. He didn’t know he could hate a man as much as he hated Bigsby right then.

  “You evil bastard…” he grunted.

  “Yes, I suppose I am a bastard. To have misled you this way…but that’s how the world works I’m afraid. Only the strong survive. Or the most evil, I should say.”

  James was beside himself with anger. Not only did he have a fathomless hatred for Bigsby, but he hated himself for putting his daughter in so much danger.

  He looked at Carol, who had woken up and was looking around. To his surprise, she wasn’t kicking or screaming. Instead she had a resolute look in her eye. She’s a real trooper, he said to himself, just like her mother. He only hoped that they would survive their predicament so they could all be together again as a family.

  Their not-so-accommodating host got and stepped into his tent again. He rummaged around for a moment and then reemerged. This time he was holding a cat box. It was the sort of plastic cage that people use to transport their pets on planes. Inside the front window of the little case, James could see a cluster of beady eyes. This was no doubt the famed blue spider with the black cross on its back.

  James once again fought furiously to break free of the chains that held him. But to no avail.

  “Don’t bother struggling,” Bigsby said i
n a tired voice. “You won’t get free without this…” he held up a tiny key. James looked down and saw that the chains were fastened together with a large padlock. As strong as he was, he knew there was no chance he could break the chains. In light of that fact, he scanned his brain for some other plan of escape.

  “As for your daughter…” Bigsby added. “Who knows? The blue spider’s bite might just work. In which case you would have me to thank for your daughter’s recovery…. I’m not saying it’s a sure fire method, mind you, but stranger things have happened…”

  By this point James wasn’t about to take anything Bigsby said for more than a grain of salt. The only thing he could think about was exacting his revenge.

  “Just one question…” James finally managed to say between his clenched teeth.

  “Yes?” Bigsby asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Why is it you think the blue spider is a cure for cancer? Whatever gave you that notion?”

  Hearing the question, Bigsby chuckled. “You will think I’m mad…” he said with a weird gleam in his eye. “And perhaps I am mad…but the notion came to me in a dream.”

  “A dream!?!” James spat angrily.

  “A dream…or a vision might be a better way of putting it,” Bigsby added. “You see, that’s how I knew that my brain tumors had come back. Before I had my chemotherapy, I would get these strange visions. What made them so strange is that they always turned out to be true. I almost hated to cure the cancer, because the visions that it gave me were so predictive. I kept waiting for one that would reveal a lottery ticket number to me, or what horse to bet on in the races. But of course the visions that came to me were out of my control. I could only accept what they showed me…”

  James listened to this story with a doubtful look on his face.

  “At any rate,” Bigsby continued. “After the chemotherapy, the cancer went into remission and the visions stopped. I actually missed them a little bit, but I was glad to be cured.”