Part 15: Home Alone

Hello again, dear readers. It would seem that we left our story in a fairly stable position. Marvin was home and apparently had been accepted by all concerned. I was no longer worried sick and I could return to my house and garden work. Fred was friendly and above all hungry. Jill was surprisingly cool-headed and jovial as she made breakfast for four. She seemed almost obsequious, and frankly I was surprised. She played the part of the perfect housewife, or maid, and treated Marvin as if he were just another guest. She acted as if everything were normal. No, worse. She acted as if everything were perfect. It was unnerving. 

"Are you going to get back to the story, then?"

"I'm leading into it."

"Okay. Sorry then."



Considering the circumstances, everything seemed to have gone quite smoothly. Conversation, breakfast, laughter. Jill had even given him a kiss on the cheek before she left.

Fred's visit was somewhat strange, but Phil couldn't say it was entirely unexpected. He hardly knew the man and most of what he did know about him came from stories around town. This in itself wouldn't have been strange at all. In most towns people always have some story to connect to those familiar faces you see around all the time, those people you recognize and frequently encounter but never actually speak to. 

The thing that was different with Fred is that he spoke to you. When Phil was in his teens, he used to visit his grandparents who lived on the north side, and sometimes he would even stay the weekend. Fred was a regular part of those weekends, especially in summer. Maybe it was the nice weather, or maybe it was just that Phil spent more time outside, but Phil remembered seeing Fred striding down the street and sometimes stopping to talk with neighbors. 

Fred used to stop to talk with Phil's grandfather quite a bit, seeking him out in the back yard when he was working in the garden, or strolling up the front path when he was trimming the roses. They seemed to talk about plants for the most part, and it seemed that Fred asked a lot of questions and Phil's grandfather limited most of his conversation to giving short two- or three-word answers. Sometimes, when Phil's grandfather was elsewhere, Fred would stop to talk to Phil, too. Thinking back now, Phil couldn't recall exactly what they talked about.

Phil's grandmother had told him back then, in that conspiratorial way that elderly grandparents speak to teenagers, to be nice to Fred because he didn't have a family and was alone. She also told him not to pry or ask too many questions. Maybe that was part of the reason Phil couldn't actually remember the conversations. Maybe they didn't really talk about anything important at all.

Phil stood in the doorway a few minutes more, watching as Fred made his way up the street, taking those long, machine-like strides and swinging his arms in long straight arcs that reminded Phil of clockwork pendulums. Fred turned down the main road, heading in the same direction as Jill's car when it disappeared from view. Then he too was gone.

Phil closed the door and walked back through the living room.

Spotting the lamp on the end table, Marvin jumped from Phil's shoulder to an arm of the sofa. He crawled over to that lamp and up the base to the shade holder. The equidistant spokes were an ideal place to start work on a web. The lamplight was warm. He crawled along a spoke to the bottom edge of the lampshade and launched a thread into the air, waiting for it to catch somewhere. The silky line rippled as it went, moving with the warm air currents.

As Marvin waited, he scanned the room for other potential architectural projects. There was an overhead lamp hanging from some sort of chain, right in the middle of the living room. It was definitely another potential site. That one would have to wait for later, though.

Phil walked into the kitchen, looking for something to busy himself. They had finished cleaning up after breakfast, and now he almost wished they hadn't. 

He walked back out onto the porch. The sun was higher in the sky now, but it wasn't a particularly hot day. Maybe he should settle into some serious yard work. Jill always chastised him for making all these grandiose plans for the yard and then never seriously doing anything about it. Jill would have harassed him until he got to work on the yard.

Jill.

Phil looked over to the above-ground pool, which was decidedly worse for wear after ten years. He could repair that, too. It was just a little outside rust. And the lining needed a good cleaning. The structure was still sound, though. "All I need to do is fix those small rust patches, tighten up the ladder, and give the bottom of the pool a good scrubbing." 

He stopped himself. Jill used to tell him that if he made all his plans out loud, he'd never do it. Actions speak louder than words.

Jill.

He wondered again about her reaction. So normal. Over gin tonics she had said she believed him about Marvin, but even then Phil had his doubts that she had really believed him. And although it hadn't seemed like such a big issue to Phil to share his own breakfast with Marvin, the whole concept really hit home with others present. The four of them had all been so natural at the table.

Maybe that was just the effect Marvin had on people.

Phil looked down at the table and saw an empty coffee cup which didn't appear to have been used. It was sitting on a folded piece of paper.

Phil,

Don't think we've finished talking. You're lucky Fred was there or I would have ripped your head off. You had me really worried, and I stayed over because I was actually afraid of what you might do to yourself. It was bad enough I had to listen to the whole spider story, but on top of it I come to find out that what you were telling me was true?! 

You'd better thank your lucky stars that you had eggs in the house, or it might have gotten ugly.

This conversation is far from over.

DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT CALLING ME. I will call you when I have had time to process. And be careful where you let that insect crawl around. It might have diseases.

Not that I care. If you get bitten and die, don't come crying for help.

I'll be in touch soon.

Jill

That was more like Jill. He folded the note and slipped into the back pocket of his trousers.

Phil noticed that Marvin was no longer sitting on his shoulder. He walked back through the house, calling out to him.

"Marvin? Where did you get off to now?"

"Here," came a small voice from the lamp.

"Ugh, cobwebs," said Phil as he swiped away the line that Marvin had left to drift in the air.

"Hey! Why did you do that?" Marvin said, poking his head out from under the lampshade.

"It was a..."

"It was my bridge thread."

"Your what?"

"My bridge thread. I need it to get started on a web."

"Oh, sorry. I thought it was a cobweb."

"Well it wasn't."

"You're not planning on covering the whole house in that, are you?"

"How much do you think I eat, anyway?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"Well, if webs are an issue, I can downsize without too much difficulty."

"Meaning?"

"I can be discreet."

"Okay."

Marvin prepared to launch another thread and noticed that Phil was still staring at him.

"Phil? Don't you have some yard work to do?"

Part 14: A Welcoming Banquet

Hello again, readers. I have returned. I was unwell last week and could not write. Marvin took it upon himself to take over.

I was a bit worried about what Marvin had written and, well, while it wasn't a part of the story as such, I thought he did a fine job and I'm glad he got to use the new keyboard.

We now return you to our regularly scheduled chapter.

Yours truly,

Phil

----------

When last we left our heroes, Fred was sitting on the sofa, Jill was preparing coffee for everyone, and Phil had Marvin hanging from his nose in a warm embrace.

Marvin returned to the hat, the hat returned to Fred’s head, and the two of them moved out to the back porch and sat down at the table for breakfast. Phil retired to the bedroom long enough to put on some acceptable attire – not that there was anything unacceptable about his underwear – and returned fully dressed for yard work. He puttered around the back yard while Marvin and Fred sat at the wooden table. Jill disappeared to the kitchen and reappeared with food, then left for the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with more. By the time she finally sat down, she had a full buffet on the table, with toast, jam, scrambled eggs, a plate with eight strips of bacon, a small pitcher of juice, another with milk, a stick of butter on a plate, a full pot of coffee, and a bowl of fruit.

Phil was busy digging up some troublesome weeds that persisted in one corner of the fence. He stopped what he was doing when he caught the scent of coffee drifting across the yard. He stood, stretched, and strolled over to where the others were seated. Fred and Jill sat facing the yard and the morning sun.

“Is there any tea?” he asked, settling himself in the chair opposite them. Marvin sat on the tabletop, on the side where Phil now sat. He crawled to one side, giving Phil some room for his breakfast and avoiding the possibility of being accidentally crushed.

“Sorry. I didn’t heat water, but I can.”

“No, leave it. I just thought that since I’d already had a coffee…. Never mind. I’ll just have some juice.” Phil grabbed the pitcher and poured himself a glass.

Marvin watched them both, fascinated. Then he looked over at Fred, who had already filled his plate and was digging into his eggs and bacon. Fred seemed completely oblivious to what was happening at the rest of the table. Not that much was happening. It was simply that Marvin had met Phil only two days before, under circumstances that seemed to Marvin quite different than what he now witnessed. In the brief time he had spent in Phil’s house – a week, ten days – he had never seen anyone else there. Marvin hadn’t considered that Phil might actually know or have relationships with other people.

Not that Marvin was stupid. He knew that some people lived in family groups in houses; some had conversations together in pairs or in groups, even when they didn’t live in the same house; and sometimes they even went to the movies or played games together. In many ways they were a lot like spiders. It occurred to him now, however, that he hadn’t imagined Phil as a particularly social human being. He had thought of Phil as a loner, which wasn’t entirely fair, considering that they’d only been sharing the house for a short time. How could Marvin know?

Ten days was longer than Phil would have ever imagined Marvin being there, true. To be fair, Phil wouldn’t have known Marvin was there at all if he hadn’t decided to do the housecleaning. Still, Marvin hadn’t been around long enough to come to any conclusions regarding Phil’s character. Marvin certainly wouldn’t have wanted Phil to jump to any conclusions regarding his character.

He looked over the edge of the table, down to the spot on the porch from which he had first spoken to Phil.

Maybe they had both come to some unfair conclusions about one another.

“Fred, I really must thank you for bringing Marvin home.”

The earnestness in his voice made Fred look away, embarrassed. “It was nothing. He asked me for a favor, and I wasn’t going to say no. I thought that a little guy would want a little favor. I was happy to help.”

“And you walked all the way here?”

“I’m a fast walker.”

“I know. I’ve seen you.”

Many people in town had seen him. Fred had a certain reputation in the area. He could often be seen walking along the side of the road on his way to or from somewhere, if walking was the appropriate word. It was more like a long, deliberate stride, accentuated by his long, thin limbs. And he was fast. Something about the way he moved made it seem as if he was in a hurry to get somewhere. He never ran, however. He just walked with that gangly, long stride.

“Well I like to walk and visit with people, and your friend needed a lift. I would’ve brought him back sooner, but he was sticky.”

“And purple,” added Marvin.

“Excuse me, Marvin, but I’m new to all this. Would you mind explaining?”

Marvin told his story, and Fred nodded his head in agreement, or smiled, or made a face, though he rarely looked down or away, nor grimaced. Sometimes, when Marvin mentioned something relating to the supermarket, Fred commented on his own responsibilities and recited his job description. Phil laughed from time to time, enjoying Marvin’s story and interjecting his own “Meanwhile, back at the house…” statements. Jill rolled her eyes and laughed in confirmation.

As he spoke, Marvin observed the way Phil looked at Jill, and the way Jill looked back. Sometimes, when Phil wasn’t looking right at her, her features changed somehow. He could see the compassion in her face at those moments, some side she didn’t show when she knew she was being observed. When she spoke directly to Phil, or he to her, her features hardened ever so slightly, as if she were trying to hide any apparent weakness.

When breakfast was finished and Jill stood to clear the table, both Fred and Phil helped her to take everything back to the kitchen. As Marvin could do very little to help, he went along for the ride, jumping onto a plate that Phil carried to the kitchen, jumping from the plate to his shoulder when he headed back to the porch, hopping onto a passing glass as Fred brought it into the house, and leaping from the glass to a strand of Jill’s hair as she turned from the sink and went back to the porch. After a few trips, Marvin jumped onto the kitchen counter and watched the three of them vying for space in the kitchen as they washed, rinsed and dried the breakfast plates.

Soon after that, it was time for everyone to be getting on their way. Jill offered to take Fred home in her car, but Fred said that he preferred to walk. This didn’t surprise anyone. Even so, the two of them left together. Fred was halfway down the driveway by the time Jill had given Phil a peck on the cheek and said her goodbyes to Marvin. Two minutes later, she was in her car and backing out of the driveway herself. Phil stood at the door watching her pull out, with Marvin on his shoulder. They both waved, though Marvin doubted that Jill could see him waving.

Marvin looked up at Phil. “They’re really nice people.”

“Fred’s all right. He used to stop by and visit when I lived on the north side, just down the road from the supermarket. Always walking. All the kids used to look at him funny. He always was a bit strange.”

“I didn’t think he was necessarily strange. A little uncomfortable, maybe.”

“Well, he had a hard time when he was a kid.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“Yeah.” Phil watched as the car drove up the street to the corner. Then it turned on to the main road and was out of sight.

Part 13: A Letter from the Editor

Dear readers,

I am stepping in today because Phillip seems to be a bit under the weather.

By the way, don't you love that expression? Under the weather? I read it in a short story I found in the trash one time. It was a good story, even though I found it very hard to read. It took me almost three days to get through it. 

You're probably thinking that I'm not a very good reader. Untrue. I am a very good reader and I have an extensive vocabulary. Perpendicular. Hubris. Cacaphony. Fluglehorn. See, I know a few words. I can use them, too. (No, I have no intention of using them here. I don't want to prove anything. I'm just sharing cool sounding words. Besides, if you think you can make an intelligent sentence using all four of those words, I would love to hear it!)

I know some other cool words, too.

Antidisestablishmentarianism

That was the longest word in the English language for a while, but I haven't been able to find any practical application for it, even though it's only around a hundred years old. Then at some point it got replaced by 

pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcaniconiosis

which is a great word but which I really don't have much opportunity to use because I don't have a lot of contact with the sort of people that might contract this. I practice pronouncing it, though. They say it's good for keeping the face muscles in shape. But my favorite long word is 

hippopotomonstrosesquipedalian

because it means "pertaining to a very, very long word" and also because it just sounds silly.

You find a lot of fun things in the garbage. One man's trash is another man's (or spider's) treasure. See, I learned that expression from some discarded book. And Phillip has a lot of good books at home, and I've read some of those, too.

Incidentally, don't throw away books. Give them to somebody or leave them someplace where another person could find them and pick them up. One of the things I like about people is that they write so many things down. And some things are pretty cool. Other things might not be as cool to read, at least not for you. But maybe somebody else wants to read them.

So anyway, yes, I'm a good reader. So why did it take me so long to get through the story? Mostly because the pages had gotten wet and were sort of stuck together. 

To tell you the truth, I wouldn't even have bothered except that I started reading the first page out of curiosity, and then I had to read the rest. I hate when that happens. In this case the story was great, though, so it was worth it.

The pages weren't easy to separate. Of course, one advantage of being a spider - and there are many - is having precision limbs that are excellent for this sort of delicate surgery. 

If I could still remember the name of the story I would recommend it to you. Sorry. My suggestion is that you read a lot of short stories. I'm sure you'll come across this story, and surely the expression, sooner or later. And if you don't, well, at least you'll improve your reading skills, like I did. And you learn vocabulary, which is always a pleasure.

Oh, before I forget, I have to give a special mention to Phillip today. He got me a touch screen which is the perfect size for me. If it weren't for his great idea, we wouldn't have even been able to write today. So you guys can thank him for that. As for the writing, well, it requires some dancing around, but once I get all eight legs going I can type pretty fast. And it's great exercise.

Well, thanks for visiting and I appreciate your interest in my story. I find you people very interesting, too. Feel free to write me if you get a chance.

Have a nice week,

Marvin A. Spyder




"Phillip, how are you feeling?"

"Miserable. And please don't call me Phillip."

"Okay. Phil. Anything else besides miserable?"

"How else do you want me to feel?"

"Well certainly not miserable. But at least healthy."

"I don't feel that either."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just give me a couple of days."

"I feel sort of helpless."

"I'll be fine. Sorry I couldn't work today. Did you get the chapter finished?"

"Yes. I just finished it now."

"Did you write the part about the visit with Fred?"

"No. Was I supposed to?"

"It was the next part of the story."

"But I thought you could write that next week. You write so much better than me."

"I don't. Not really. But thanks for the compliment. So what did you write about?"

"I wrote about reading."

"That sounds...um..."

"Interesting? Fun? Exciting? Entertaining? Enjoyable? Riveting?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I guess I'll have to read it."

"Well, I hope you'll like it."

"Do you think other people will like it?"

"Gee, I hope so."

"No picture today?"

"I can't draw."

"And did you remember to close to screen?"

"Oops."

"...."

"...."

"How much of our conversation got printed?"

"Not much."

"...."

"...."

"So now have you closed it?"

"Oops. Sorry. Now."