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A Spider
By Garik Charneco
A Spider
By Garik Charneco
We live in the bottom half of a house split in two. We live in a basement. And every summer it fills up with creatures, mostly small. I caught a spider the other day, while getting the apartment ready for my sister's arrival. The nieces and nephew would not find the spider pleasing, probably even terrifying. Maybe the boy would delight in it, as little boys are supposed to, but I was never drawn to creepy crawlies. I imagined my nephew to be the same.
I pressed a plastic container against the ceiling and scooped her into the bowl. I didn't seal the lid, but left it haphazardly over the container. Too heavy for her to lift, but loose enough for me to watch.
I referred to the spider as a "her," because the back end, the thorax, glistened in a gray marble. It has a gelatinous shimmer to it and a purple veiny lattice work all around it. I envisioned her being pregnant, it being spring and all. Her legs were long, daddy-long legs long, but the field guide left over from college did not differentiate much in long-legged spiders. I had to pick from Eastern Daddy-Long Legs or Brown Daddy-Long Legs. All the other spiders in that section were woolly monsters with barbels and sharp hairs. Spider nothing like I have ever encountered, or would like to, in the apartment. Spiders nothing like her
She didn't seem like any of the long legs. From her midsection, her legs came away in neat little segments. Each joint between the segments had a pair of black bands around it, like old tube socks from gym class. She had a single black dot on the top of her midsection and nibbly thimble shaped head with a mess of shiny eyes. She performed tricks in the plastic, almost seemingly hanging from nothing in the middle of the bowl. Other times she pogoed on one leg, but, mostly, she probed at the sides and the lid.
I let her go into the container garden we keep outside the front door. I dropped her into some basil that had been gnawed on by insects unknown. As she scampered away, eight legs over one another, a moth flew into the house as if it knew the predator was gone.
I pressed a plastic container against the ceiling and scooped her into the bowl. I didn't seal the lid, but left it haphazardly over the container. Too heavy for her to lift, but loose enough for me to watch.
I referred to the spider as a "her," because the back end, the thorax, glistened in a gray marble. It has a gelatinous shimmer to it and a purple veiny lattice work all around it. I envisioned her being pregnant, it being spring and all. Her legs were long, daddy-long legs long, but the field guide left over from college did not differentiate much in long-legged spiders. I had to pick from Eastern Daddy-Long Legs or Brown Daddy-Long Legs. All the other spiders in that section were woolly monsters with barbels and sharp hairs. Spider nothing like I have ever encountered, or would like to, in the apartment. Spiders nothing like her
She didn't seem like any of the long legs. From her midsection, her legs came away in neat little segments. Each joint between the segments had a pair of black bands around it, like old tube socks from gym class. She had a single black dot on the top of her midsection and nibbly thimble shaped head with a mess of shiny eyes. She performed tricks in the plastic, almost seemingly hanging from nothing in the middle of the bowl. Other times she pogoed on one leg, but, mostly, she probed at the sides and the lid.
I let her go into the container garden we keep outside the front door. I dropped her into some basil that had been gnawed on by insects unknown. As she scampered away, eight legs over one another, a moth flew into the house as if it knew the predator was gone.
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Peace!
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