Yes? Happy birthday.
The burning, torturous pang of guilt overwhelms me. This is all my fault. I create one disaster after the other.
Then a new text from Kidtal pops up on my phone.
No worries about feeding the pets today. I'm coming home tonight.
Fresh fucking hell. I have to get Arachnodesiac out of here fast.
I head over to the living room just as the doorbell rings, and I peek out from one of the windows.
It's Felix, so I open the door, but with a big roll of the eyes.
“Yes?”
“Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“Also, I'm not going to California with you anymore. I'm going to UT with Roland,” he says.
“Sounds like you were really struggling to make a decision,” I hit back.
“More than you know.”
“You've only been dating for barely two months! Ugh, whatever, while you're here you might as well help me,” I say.
Felix follows me into the living room.
“Is that the boner spider?”
“I was trying to scare Clint off forever. Instead, he's been living in the garage. Anyway, why are you doing this to me now, Felix? I'm going to be late for call time.”
“I'm finishing our conversation from the other day. You're not the Wade I've known since middle school. I miss that guy. Byron changed something about you.”
“The same Byron you were always pining for?” I ask. “Look, If you've come here to lecture me, can you at least help me carry the spider to the van? I gotta get it out of here before someone gets killed.”
When Felix and I pick the terrarium up, Felix keeps huffing. Clint walks by, but he stops in his tracks when he sees us.
“Where are you two going with that?” he asks, but we ignore him.
The urge to bite back overwhelms me. “By the way, I'm still going to California. You want to throw that all away on a whirlwind romance and get stuck in this shithole the rest of your life? That's your own choice.”
“Maybe I do now!” Felix barks back, moving from behind as I direct him to the front door. Clint follows us and keeps trying to talk to us, but all I hear is “derp-derp-derp” from his direction, which is making me even more nervous.
“Roland doesn't even like horror movies. What are you going to do with him? Watch stupid sexy golf dramas forever?”
“Maybe I like stupid sexy golf dramas now! What are you going to do? Sit by yourself in your California apartment, crying because you can't get an audition? You really are just like your aunt!”
“EXCUSE ME?” Dinah stomps in from the other room. She stands next to Clint, her fists on her hips. “Don't you dare compare me to him!”
Great. This is turning into a whole family affair. Arachnodesiac is tumbling back and forth in his terrarium, growing increasingly pissed off.
“It's never going to work, Felix. You are sitting on the fact that you and I ruined his life. What are you going to do if he finds out?”
He gets quiet.
He wants to compare me to my aunt? Fine.
Let him see how far I can dig. “You'll be the one sitting by yourself in your parents' house with nobody.
And I won't be there to make you feel better.
Here you are, tossing me aside like trash and complaining to me that things aren't the same anymore, when I'd never abandon you.
You're the only person on this stupid planet who matters to me.
I would be with you forever. When I go one day without you, I can't breathe. I know you and love you more than Roland ever could!”
Felix blinks in surprise. “I—I thought you were in love with Byron…”
“You are KILLING me. I was trying to make you jealous!” I'm shaking now.
Dinah and Clint roll their eyes and start to leave the room. “Oh my god with this gay shit,” she shouts at the ceiling.
“Wade…” Felix looks at me with the most pitiful face. “I'm flattered, but…”
And he leaves me there. But it's too late. The words hit me like a bullet. My blood runs cold and my hands loosen.
The glass terrarium slips from my arms, hits the floor, and shatters—but all I hear besides the sound of my heart breaking is Clint's shrill screaming.
___________
Phoneutria nigriventer
Ai, meu Deus! Free again! All this time I have been imprisoned, and for what crime?
N?o sei! All I can recall was the beautiful day I was feasting in a banana tree before Carnival.
I had found a hidden part with the juiciest bugs.
It was a good time to get dinner and hide from the people.
They'd be coming in their bright, colorful costumes, dancing all over the place.
I'm a spider without a home, so I always had to wander those colorful favela walls like a ghost, my eight legs quivering with cada passo.
Those gatos, lurking around every corner, their eyes gleaming like hungry predators, their soft meows before tearing up my brothers and sisters.
The people, too. One look at me and it's “Armadeira! Armadeira!” Screaming, running, brooms swinging.
They don't understand. I'm not here to cause trouble, sabe?
I want to dance, too! I want to feel the rhythm, to samba until the sun comes up!
My heart beats for the music. Ah, to be welcomed at the roda de samba, to shuffle all eight of my feet to the intoxicating beat of the repinique.
Maybe I should have been born a borboleta instead.
They got those pretty wings to hide their ugly bodies. Me? I'm a monster.
I was munching on the most delicioso lizard when the bananas I was hiding in started to move. Then a plastic bag wrapped around the bananas and me. I took one last look at Cristo Redentor high above, then everything went dark.
Now I am free. The ground is soft, like the back of a llama. The samba I miss so much does not exist here—the only music I hear is the shrieks of the group of monkeys that stand around me.
The monkey with the big mustache throws a large object that crashes to the side of me. I'm backed into a corner, shards of glass surrounding me at every turn. My anxiety is pumping through me. I want to be on a banana tree right now, feasting on a juicy tree roach, then off to the samba lines.
Fine. I'll give them my warning dance. I lift my front legs up and bare my fangs, tilting in both directions, like my mama taught me.
Danca da morte, danca da morte, balance à direita, balance à esquerda!
They wail and do their own dances, jumping backward and throwing their arms up.
That's right! Tremble, tremble, bitches! Works every time. Now give me some space to be on my way, por favor!
The scary monkey with the long black hair stomps around the room and screeches.
The vibrations trickle up my legs, and the ground below me shakes.
Once, when I was in a samba line at Carnival, I saw a giant green-eyed demon with a skull-painted face and a large black headdress.
This must be the same demon. My legs wobble at the sound of her voice.
Behind the monkey with the big mustache, the door opens to freedom.
I skitter toward the light, almost past his leg, but he screeches like an araponga-da-amaz?nia.
We got these white birds back home, and when they scream, it's so loud that your head's gonna explode.
This screeching mustache monkey must be a relative.
Now he pulls the scary monkey in front of him.
She gives him a hard whack across his rosto.
I gotta find a new exit before she eats me for dinner.
The monkey with the cracked face grabs a big broom and bashes the ground all around me, barely missing my legs. I dodge the hits while my feet dodge the glass splinters all around me. I climb up the broom and jackknife my legs, flinging myself toward his hands.
I bite into the monkey's hand as my legs droop, my venom slowly squirting into it. Feel the juice of my ancestors flow through you, monkey! He screams and swats me off, sending me flying across the room.
I hide under the shelf, hoping they will disappear after my dance, but we continue to play hide-and-seek. I escape through the other side, and there is the scary monkey with a big container.
“Bunch of useless goddamn sissies, all of you,” she says as she scoops me up into the container. I am no match for the vibrations that come from the hole in her face.
I freeze in panic and cannot even lift my legs. A large blue ceiling closes in over me. Ai! I am no longer free.