Itsy Bitsy Fritsy 16: An Unexpected Turn of Events
The man and woman walked into the kitchen, and the woman immediately came over to the jar. “There you are! How are you doing, little earth mother?”
The man rolled his eyes. He said he would be right back, and went upstairs.
I thought: I’m in prison, you daffy broad. You put me here.
I still didn’t trust her. Lots of happy-happy earth-friendly talk, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find she had plans for mounting me in a display case on her wall. She leaned on the counter and was about to say something, but then the man returned with his laptop.
“I have something to show you,” he said, setting the laptop down on the counter.
“Yeah. I found this interesting web site last night.”
“Okay…” the woman said. She seemed wary.
“Now, I just want you to know that I was okay with keeping this spider around,” he said. “Not thrilled, but I was willing to try it, for you.”
“But…?” she said.
“Well, just see what I found. I really like you, Hildi. I don’t want you to be mad, but I think we have to kill the spider.”
“What? No! She’s so beautiful. And she’s harmless. You can’t kill her.”
Yes! She was an ally after all.
I worried how she might react to my posts about hunting the man. Maybe she would concede that I was a menace to humans, and reluctantly decide to put me in her display case sooner rather than later.
Oh, Hildi, I would never hurt you.
The man looked pained; scared. Of losing her? “Just look,” he said, turning the screen towards her. There was a browser open, pointing to my first post on this blog. “I was shocked to find this, but everything made sense once I read it. I think you’ll agree— please read it.”
The woman frowned and began reading. After the first post, she glanced at him as she moved to the next, and then scanned the next couple of posts, looking back and forth from screen to man.
“This is amazing,” she said.
“This is really something. Horrifying.”
“I know!” the man said again. “That stuff I told you about the spiders— it was premeditated. This spider — Fritzi — she’s been trying to kill me.”
“No, that’s not it,” the woman said. “It’s amazing that you would write all this and try to make me believe it came from a spider.”
“How long have you been working on this?” She clicked through a few more posts. “This is really insane. It’s funny how you can misjudge someone. Is this a joke? Should I be laughing?”
“No! I just found the blog last night—”
“You found it.”
“I got an anonymous email, warning me… about…” he trailed off.
“You’re crazy. You’re sick. I’m getting out of here.”
“No, don’t go. Hildi, I— please. I swear I didn’t write that. I can imagine how it might look to you, but I think it’s real.” He pointed at me, saying, “She’s writing this. No one else would know the things she’s writing about. Look! This last entry wasn’t here earlier. It’s from this morning, about when I confronted her.”
The woman stared at him for several long, uncomfortable seconds, before saying, “I’m taking the spider with me, and I don’t want to hear from you ever again.” Then she picked up the jar and started towards the door.
Oh! You should have seen the look on the cat’s face! And the man’s! He was destroyed. Oh, well, Nolan. It’s better to have loved and lost, I guess.
After some more desperate pleading, we were out of the house! I was saved!
I thought briefly about my spider sisters and brothers left behind. Now the man knows. But there’s nothing I can do to help them anymore. Too bad for them, but I can’t say I’m feeling overly guilty about it. Maybe they should have tried working with me last night instead of taunting, scolding, and abandoning me.
(I do feel bad for Gretchen and some of the other young ones. I think now she had wanted to help me. I hope she’ll be okay.)
The woman placed me on the front passenger seat of her car and drove away. The jar rolled with the movement of the car, and I hoped it might roll off and break, giving me a chance to escape. As if anticipating my thoughts but not my desire, she said, “Don’t worry, Fritzi, that jar won’t break very easily.”
“That was a close one,” she said. “Good thing he didn’t kill you before I got there, huh?” She looked over at me, smiled, and winked.
“I’ve been reading your blog all along,” she said, turning her eyes back to the road. “I hacked into your web site and found your IP address, which soon led me to the house. I got close to Nolan so I’d have a chance to meet you. What an extraordinary specimen you are. So beautiful. So talented.”
While flattering, it also felt creepy that she had been stalking me. And I didn’t like the way she said specimen.
(But I have to admit, I was impressed with her leet haxor skillz.)
A new song began playing on the radio and the woman started tapping the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be safe there for a few days, while I got things ready. I was so lucky to find your blog, and then you. I have big plans for you, Fritzi.” And then she laughed and giggled.
On the radio, the song’s chorus started…
It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini…
Which caused her to laugh some more, saying, “They’re playing your song!” And then she clumsily ad-libbed her own chorus:
“She was an itsy bitsy teeny Fritsy creepy barn-y funnel weaver…”
Which prompted more laughter and giggling fits.
The car eventually stopped. She reached into the back seat and produced a brown paper bag. She put my jar into the bag, saying, “Be patient, little one.” She closed it up and I could tell I was being carried somewhere, and then set down, and it has been dark and quiet for a long time.
I finally decided I had to post an update, but now at last, my spiPhone battery is down to the vapors.
Please help me, if you can, somehow—