Him

Him

I am a rarity, you know, with my coloring and size. I am not what one could call beautiful, but rare is a much better compliment, I think.

"You have such lovely legs," a spider said to me once. "So long and with lovely purple hair."

I am as large as a grown wizard's hand, I know because The Feeder used to tell the witches and wizards that, when I still lived in The Place.

I didn't go out much in those days, there wasn't really any reason, beyond the usual ones. I would emerge from my nest at night and stalk some of the smaller things that dared to wader the hardwood floor when the lights when out.

The Place smelled musty, like food and water that had been left too long sitting and now various fuzzy molds had covered it. I knew it had to be mold, because I combated it occasionally in my nest. Silk, of course, is a superior substance, but even silk that is old can catch mold. The Feeder put bits of food in the terrarium where I lived, and left it there to rot, so that mold took up residence. My nest was in a corner, where I had spread silk so thick, no light came through.

"Are you preparing for eggs?" a Young, Plain Tarantula asked once.

"No," I told him. "I am simply a meticulous housekeeper."

He seemed disappointed.

It was important to me that no light came through my nest. The Feeder would lift the top of the terrarium during the day, and bright, white light would flood through. It wasn't bad if one was expecting it, like at dinner time, or if one had gotten a decent night's sleep. But night was when I went out and being awakened by the light was not at all amenable.

I went out for the mice, as anyone who has had mouse knows what a fine delicacy it is. If one wants mice, one has to hunt at night and compete with the cats. None of the cats bothered me, of course. I am a rarity, and as big as a grown wizard's hand. I know because I heard The Feeder say so himself. But cats are much faster than they look, and a Tarantula has to be sneaky to out-mouse them. I felt the little mouse feet skitter on the floor as they ran and the little mouth teeth bite into the bags of corn and seeds. I waited among them, and as the mouse was gorging itself, I jumped out and overpowered it. Once my venom had done the trick, I dragged its warm body back to my nest.

"You should leave the mice to us," a cat told me once. "You should be spinning webs in the corner and catching flies."

I knew he was trying to get me to drop my mouse. My venom only paralyzed it, and the cats are jealous, you know. They can't hunt anywhere near was well as I can. They don't even have venom. They have to eat all of their victims dead.

"I'm not that kind of spider," I told him. "Spinning webs is for spiders that cannot catch their dinner."

"You don't need to catch your dinner," the cat said. "The Feeder feeds you."

"He feeds you too," I said. "And what will you do when he stops feeding you?"

"My witch or wizard will feed me," he said. "That is why we are here, after all."

I almost spit out my mouse. "Don't be ludicrous," I declared. "You'll be on your own."

"You'll be on your own," the cat retorted. What else could he do but retort? I am a rarity, you know, as big as a full grown wizard's hand. I know, because I've been told so.

I was picking mold off the top of my nest one day, when the Young, Plain Tarantula came up to me. "Are you making your nest thicker?" he asked. "It is a lovely nest, I can't see that it needs to be any thicker."

"No," I told him, spitting out some mold. "I am repairing damage done by poor housekeeping of our terrarium."

"Oh," the Young, Plain Tarantula muttered. He was silent for a moment, and I wondered why he didn't go away, when he said, "You have lovely violet hair."

Of course, I already knew this, but I replied, "Thank you." I was only polite after all.

"And you are one of the biggest Tarantula's I have ever met."

I doubted that the Young, Plain Tarantula had met any Tarantula's other the ones in our terrarium. Maybe he had met some from another terrarium in The Place. "Thank you," I said again, "I am as big as a grown wizard's hand."

"Really?" he asked. "How do you know?"

"I've been told so," I said.

"By who?" he asked, but he didn't wait for me to answer. The Feeder lifted the lid of the terrarium. I huffed, because it was no where near dinner time. Several wizard and witch faces peered over the edge of the lid. They peered for a long time, and the Young, Plain Tarantula seemed to be entranced, as if the faces were female Tarantulas looking for a mate. When the lid closed, the Young, Plain Tarantula let out a shriek like none I had ever heard before. He ran to the side of the terrarium and began to climb the walls. "No, no!" he cried. "You can't leave without me! You can't! Come back, oh, Great Spider Goddess, come back!"

Great Spider Goddess? Surely he was joking. I had seen no Great Spider Goddess, and am I sure if she came down to our terrarium, she would have shown herself to me. But as if answering his prayer, the lid opened again, and a witch reached him, and plucked him out. Like that he was gone.

Good riddance to him, I thought, crawling back into my nest. Great Spider Goddess indeed.

Many days went by after the Young, Plain Tarantula left. I didn't think of him often, but when I did, a shiver went through me. What kind of madness had taken a hold of him? Was it contagious? Did you get from mice? Maybe a cat had bitten him.

I didn't go out to hunt one particular night. It was too hot, and the terrarium was humid and smelled worse than other. But I couldn't bring myself to go hunt. I was lethargic and sleepy. I cleaned my shapely legs until I couldn't stand the smell anymore. No matter how I felt, I had to get out of the terrarium. I exited my next.

Just as I left it, the lid lifted. The bright light shone through the opening, and a face emerged over the edge. I stopped in my tracks, one of my legs still up in the air taking a step. My heart stopped beating. I could feel nothing through the sensitive nerves in my feet. I could smell nothing, the must had disappeared.

Above me was a wizard. He smiled at me and said, "I want that one, Mum." His voice sounded like silk prepared for an egg sack. His skin was the color of soil, and sprouting from his head were hundreds of great, long, black legs. He was a Great Spider God.