Twenty #2
“Uh,” he chuckles nervously, scooting away from me to get to the far end of the couch. “Listen, I hope I don’t sound ridiculous, but I think I see a spider.”
I try to keep my face neutral but my lips quirk up. If Reece is genuinely afraid of spiders, I don’t want to emasculate him by laughing, but I can’t help and feel the giggle trying to escape.
“Seriously, it’s on your wall,” Reece says, his voice a little more panicked.
“Where?” I turn back. “Reece, I don’t see—”
And then I see it.
Big. Black. Fuzzy . Sitting on the wall above my breakfast bar, taunting Reece, taunting me.
I’m not even afraid of spiders but I’m half-convinced that thing might try to eat me in my sleep tonight.
Typically, I’m one to put bugs outside. I’ll just scoop them up and dump them out on my back balcony to continue living their little bug lives.
But not this one. This one has got to go.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper like I’m going to scare it off.
“Stacy, do you see it? Do you see it, Stace? It’s huge, it’s right there. ” Reece scoots impossibly closer to the edge of my couch, bringing his knees up to his chest.
“I see it,” I hiss, standing up and creeping over to the spider.
The closer I get, the furrier this thing becomes.
It’s easily the size of a quarter, tormenting me as it meanders across my beige wall.
I’m much too short to reach it on my own and I know asking Reece for help is a pipe dream.
So, I use some problem solving skills, grab a roll of paper towels from my kitchen, and pull out one of my barstools to stand on.
“Stacy,” Reece whispers from behind me. “Stacy, what are you doing?”
“Getting the spider!” I whisper back, slowly stepping up onto the padded seat of the stool.
“Don’t fall,” I hear Reece say, panic rising in his voice. “Dear god, don’t fall because I can’t kill that spider, Stace. I’m serious.”
“Would you calm down?” I whip my head around to scold him and he presses his lips into a thin line.
Turning back towards the terrifying creature in my apartment, I slowly lift the roll of paper towels above my head.
I hold my breath and pray to whatever entity is out there that I get this spider on my first try.
Reece is quiet as a mouse behind me, likely holding his breath as well, while I rear back and bring the paper towels forward.
Just in time for the spider to skitter away.
And fall off the wall .
Chaos explodes in my tiny apartment as Reece and I start to shriek and scream at the same time. I see the spider zigzagging around obstacles like my TV stand and coffee table legs, and I nearly fall off the stool trying to scramble down to the floor.
“Get it! Get it!” I hear Reece squeal as I incoherently scream back at him.
I’m not sure whose yells are whose at this point. They’re both equally loud and high in pitch as we both run around my living room like a couple of headless chickens.
“Where is it?” I yell, standing on my coffee table while Reece stands on my couch.
“God, I don’t know!” he hollers. “Is it on me? Stacy, is it on me?”
“It’s not on you, you have got to calm down!”
Bold demand coming from me, someone who is certainly not calming down.
We both freeze at the same time as we see the little thing moseying out from underneath my TV stand. The spider looks at ease, moving at a glacial pace as if Reece and I aren’t both in the throes of active cardiac episodes.
“Reece, you have to help me,” I whisper without taking my eyes off the spider.
“Help you?” he screeches.
“Yes, Reece, help me! Open the door and I’m going to shoo it outside.”
“ Shoo it outside ?” Reece’s voice raises to an octave not yet discovered by mankind.
“It’s almost to the door anyway,” I hiss, hopping off the coffee table and creeping over towards where the spider is scurrying .
I hear Reece grumbling something behind me but then I hear him ambling off the couch to follow me.
His steps are light as he sneaks over to my front door, ripping it open with a look of horror on his face.
I take a paper towel off the roll and start to herd the spider towards the open door.
It seems to respond to the light touch of the paper towel as I direct it over my doorstep and out into the breezeway.
The spider gives us one last scare by changing directions, causing us both to let out a scream, before it corrects itself and scurries away down the hall.
Slamming the door behind it, I turn to look at Reece. We’re both breathing sporadically, Reece’s face flushed like he just ran a 5K while we stare at each other in silence.
Until we both double over in laughter.
We guffaw and gasp for air until I’m clutching at my sides, tears leaking from my eyes as I try to catch my breath. Reece has to steady himself on the coffee table from laughing so hard until he gives up, collapsing to the floor as we both cackle like a couple of hyenas.
“If you ever tell anyone I screamed like that,” Reece gasps, still on the floor, “I’ll drop you from every stunt for the foreseeable future.”