Ever since I had seen the spiders climb out of the drain in the bath tub, I was afraid to sit on the toilet. I didn’t want to experience a moment like one in Arachnophobia. Found dead on the bathroom floor, jeans around the ankle, the secret that I live life commando exposed.
No one warned me about the variety of eight legged freaks I’d encounter during my stay in Sooke. I was house sitting for a friend. Out of the kindness of my heart, and for five hundred dollars, I accepted my friend’s request to feed the dog, feed the cat, feed the Nemo, and water the plants. Why she kept indoor plants when there was a rainforest surrounding all four walls was beyond me.
At the top of summer’s hill, the spiders are everywhere. They had managed to squeeze through the windowsills, and weaved webs in corners of all the rooms. It’s as if they wanted me to stumble into one of their traps to suck out my fluids.
One night, before I knew of the spiders’s agenda, I was outside relaxing in the hot tub. I had the jets on the highest setting, massaging my back and legs. I sipped on a Guinness. Had my ear phones in, listening to The Shins. That’s when I saw the lime green spider, the size of a toonie, walking along the side of the hot tub, like it owned the damned thing.
Shrieking, I spilt the Guinness in the water, and jumped out of the hot tub onto the mossy stone of the patio floor. I ran inside like an axe murderer was chasing me, slammed the sliding doors shut, locked them. Five minutes later, I caught my breath.
That night, I couldn’t fall asleep. When I closed my eyes, I witnessed the giant green spider in HD. Hairy legs, beady eyes, pincers. And it felt like its friends were clawing their way up my legs, across my stomach stomach, along my arms, their fine hairs scraping my skin.
They had to be destroyed.
I stopped in the local hardware store, and purchased two cans of spider buster. The gruff man at the counter, raised his white bushy brow.
“Gotta spider problem?” He asked as he scanned the cans.
“Not after the spider buster.”
“May I give you some advice, son?” He put the cans into a brown paper bag, and I fished for my wallet in my jean’s pocket.
“Spider’s ain’t the issue. It rains a lot here, so there’s thousands of hungry mosquitos, and spiders love mosquitos. Best if you leave the spiders alone. And the total is twenty-five, twenty-five.”
I handed him two twentys, and said, “Well I hate spiders, regardless. If the mosquitos become a problem, then I guess you have a repeat customer.”
The sun fell behind the trees, the lamps outside turned on in response. Night was the Spider’s element, but I was going to take the fight to them. A surprise attack. Unbeknownst to them was that I knew all their hiding spots. Behind the siding of the house. In between the wood planks making the lattice of the fence. Inside the vines wrapping around the outside of the fence and house. The huge spiders were not shy, however. They put webs where ever they pleased, but not anymore
Outside I went, hood of my jacket up, wielding spider buster akimbo style like an Asian gangster. I saw there legs poking from their hiding places in the side of the house. They waited for me, I bet.
By the door, a spider the size of a quarter with white stripes along its back, zipped down on its web in front of me. I stumbled back, my fingers fumbled to remove the cap from the spider buster. I squeezed the trigger. A poisonous, sweet scented cloud engulfed the spider. The thing managed hang onto its web, but writhed. I swear I could here it screeching.
It rocked back and forth on the web, trying to escape its death. Shortly after, the spider fell onto its back, legs curled up in towards its body. Justice.
I popped the lid off the other can, and held both cans in front of me. I sprayed the entire siding of the house. The spiders fell, one by one. I stepped back from the corpses, grinning. This was the power of the humans, I thought, examining the can. Mess with me, and I will destroy you.
“That goes for all you creatures,” I shouted.
Then I felt a prick at the back of my neck. Smacking the back of my head and neck, I fell backwards. Those erie feelings of critters crawling along my body came in full force. I ran towards the door when I heard a buzz in my ear.
I swept off my hood. A mosquito flew towards the light of the lamp by the pool. Its belly was fat and red.
“You bastard,” I said, feeling the back of my neck. A bump was forming. I followed the blood sucker. It hovered around the lamp, mesmerized, like it was trying to find something. The spider buster, I figured it could kill a mosquito as well, so I aimed the can at the mosquito like some sort of ranger. Hasta la vista, baby, came to mind.
Before my finger flexed, the mosquito became trapped in a web behind the lamp. And there was the toonie sized, lime green spider from the other night. As the mosquito jerked, and kicked, and wiggled, the spider clamped its mandibles onto the mosquito. Justice.
I felt the bump on my neck; it itched, so I scratched my neck. Problem solved.