Spider-Ella

by Ebony McKenna

  The True Story of Spiderella

  Hanging upside down from the branch of an apple tree early one sunny morning, Wilona d’Arella stretched her limbs and reached for a ripe piece of fruit. It filled her hand as she twisted it off its stem, four, five, six times, before coming away with a satisfying snap. She tossed the apple onto a pile of soft grass, where it rolled down a gentle slope into a basket; fresh and unbruised, so they could be sold at the market.

  Wilona came from a sprawling farm in the eastern foothills of Brugel, right near the border with Styria and Corinthia (whose campaigns for independence continue to this day.)

  She lived with her extended family; seven mothers, four fathers and several dozen brothers, sisters, cousins and what-have-yous.

  There were thirty-five people living in the family farm. Nobody quite knew exactly who was related to whom, they were just sort of there, living and working and farming. People who lived in the nearby village of Kronut thought the farm family were weird. Not that Wilona had time to worry about what others thought of her, she was too busy working.

  On this particularly sunny morning, Wilona was hard at work picking fruit.

  “Wilona!” A voice called out. ‘Wilona? Oh! There you are!”

  Parting her long brown hair away from her eyes, Wilona looked about to see who the voice belonged to. With a twist and a jump, Wilona leapt from the tree and landed on the soft ground below. “Hello Mother Raven, what brings you to the applery today?”

  “Mother Hawk has a sore leg, and won’t be able to attend the market. I was hoping you might come with me in her place?”

  “The Market? How thrilling!” Wilona said.

  OK, fine, Wilona is indeed weird if she thinks a day at the market will be ‘thrilling’.

  The Market was where the family took all their produce to sell and swap for fabrics and food items they couldn’t make themselves. Like the amazing sweet pastries the village of Kronut was famous for.

  Wilona had never been there herself. Truth be told, she suddenly felt a little fearful of the prospect of venturing so far away from home. But the delight of seeing something new outweighed the fear. She stood up as tall as she could, to appear mature and trustworthy. And brave. Because she didn’t want to show how nervous she was.

  Mother Raven smiled so much her eyes almost vanished under the wrinkles. “You’re always so helpful Wilona. Stay close to me and don’t worry about the crowds.”

  Wilona picked another few apples to fill the carry basket and asked, “What’s a crowd?”

  “That’s right, you’ve been so protected here. A crowd is lots of people. All talking and moving at once.”

  “Like milking time?” Because everyone helped with milking and it became noisy and crowded in the milking shed.

  “It’s even bigger than that. But it’s good – the more people who come to market day, the more we sell.”

  ~~~

  They hitched their goods into the wagon and harnessed the two steers to pull everything along the road into town. Just as Mother Raven had predicted, the market was incredibly noisy and busy, full of traders setting out their wares and people keen to buy.

  Keen to learn all she could, Wilona watched as another seller set up her display. The woman placed her green pears in a neat row, turning many of them around so their prettiest side faced out, and also to hide the dimples and blemishes. Then she removed two items from the display, which looked a little odd. But of course, if a few apples were missing already, it looked as if they were already selling! Wilona copied her, then took a knife to the not-as-perfect apples and cut them into slices, so people could taste a sample.

  Her apples were glossy and red, deliciously crunchy, and so juicy they dribbled down the chin. As Wilona displayed more fruit, she found a little spider in the stem of one. Carefully she picked the creature up by its silk and placed it back in the weave of the basket. Spiders were her friends, especially the orb weavers. They were the best friends a farmer could want. Spiders wove incredible webs that caught all the insects which loved to destroy on apples. Without the spiders, her fruit would be blotchy and miserable.

  And the webs looked so beautiful when beaded with morning mist.

  Mother Raven traded and haggled with the other farmers while Wilona sold their produce. They had cheese from their cows, knitted scarves and hats for the oncoming winter, courtesy of their sheep, but the apples were the heroes of their market stall.

  So many customers marvelled at how delicious and pretty they were.

  “We owe it all to the spiders,” Wilona proudly told them.

  “Spiders? Oh no, can’t stand spiders!” they’d say.

  Or worse.

  “Spiders? You’re weird!”

  As the afternoon wore on, the same message came through. For some reason, people just couldn’t cope with spiders.

  Which, to Wilona, was really weird.

  As the afternoon wore on, a group of young men entered the market place. They were dressed in fine fabrics and wore jaunty hats with feathers in them.

  1

  As they approached each trader, the young men made short conversation (Wilona couldn’t make out what they were saying) then waved goodbye and moved to the next.

  They repeated this with several traders. The traders were always polite and encouraging, but the group didn’t purchase a single thing. Although Wilona was young and not well-versed in human behaviour, she’d already seen enough to establish a pattern. The young men had money – the clothes proved that – but they weren’t spending it. It was morbidly fascinating to watch. The traders were being so kind and patient, yet it was for nothing.

  Unfortunately, at this very same time Mother Raven hadn’t returned from trading with others, so Wilona had to deal with the group on her own as they approached her stall.

  The young man in the centre of the group – he seemed to be their leader – strolled towards Wilona’s table and picked up the largest apple. “I hear on good authority that yours are the juiciest in town.” He said with a leer.

  His friends thought this was an hilarious joke, and they guffawed and laughed as if it was the funniest thing of all time.

  As the man made to take a bite, Wilona gasped at the sight of a spider crawling out from the apple’s base.

  “Wait!” she cried, as she reached to swipe it away (carefully, mind.)

  A few horrible misunderstandings happened at the same time. The man thought Wilona was trying to snatch the fruit away, and pulled the apple even closer toward him. Wilona lunged to reach for the spider, but lost her balance and toppled over her table of produce. The young man’s friends, thinking Wilona was trying to attack him, slapped her arms down and piled themselves over her body.

  Apples, limbs and shouts flew everywhere. The men held Wilona so tightly she couldn’t speak.

  The young man who’d grabbed the apple suddenly screamed, “Get it off me, get it off me!”

  His friends squashed Wilona even more, thinking she was somehow still able to attack despite being buried under three strong lads.

  “Spider.” Wilona tried to say, but nothing came out.

  Mother Raven came rushing back and screamed at the men to unhand her daughter. Just as the weight came away and Wilona could breathe again, she saw the strangest thing.

  Mother Raven had dropped almost to the ground, her head bowed, and she was profusely apologising for the confusion and injury.

  “He’s not injured!” Wilona croaked out.

  “Kneel before your lord and master!” One of the men said.

  “The who now?” Wilona asked.

  “He’s the prince!” Mother Raven said. “Kneel girl. Sharpish!”

  Uh oh!

  Wilona
dropped to the ground. “I’m so sorry, I was only trying to get a spider off the apple. Then everything happened at once and I’m so sorry!” She didn’t really feel sorry, it’s just that she didn’t know what else to do and Mother Raven had just identified him as a prince.

  And also, a prince? Why didn’t anyone warn her?

  Oh yeah, the fancy the clothes.

  And not buying anything – he was probably just visiting and making nice with the traders. That’s why everyone was being so nice and patient with him.

  And as Wilona had spent nearly all her years on the family farm, she’d never seen a prince before, so how was she to know any of this anyway?

  The prince spat out a chunk of perfectly good, juicy apple. It landed on the ground and became coated in dirt. Then he threw the apple down after it and the bite mark also developed a dirt crust.

  The spider crawled away from the apple, and then a boot landed hard on top of it, turning it to mush.

  “Spiders! Can’t stand them.” The prince said.

  Prince or not, that was no way to behave. Wilona stood up, her face flame hot from a combination of embarrassment, confusion and recently being crushed by the prince’s goon squad.

  “You brute!” She yelled before she could stop herself. “What did that spider ever do to you?”

  “It could have bitten me.”

  Wilona said, “No it wouldn’t have. You just needed to move it along!”

  “Hush, child,” Mother Raven said as she moved to stand beside Wilona, to stop her from attacking anyone in her fit of rage. Then she said to the Prince, “It’s her first day at The Market, she’s very new at this.”

  The prince adjusted his hat. “You’re weird, you know that?”

  “And you’re cruel to harmless creatures. Do you want to know why these apples are so amazing? Because the spiders are my friends and they catch every single bug in the garden. That’s why they’re so beautiful.”

  Mother Raven apologised to the prince again and said, “Wilona, please say sorry and mean it.”

  “All right. ‘Sorry and mean it’.”

  “Wilona, please!”

  “He started it!”

  “My father will hear about this,” the prince said.

  “Yeah? Well I’ve got four of them and they’ll hear about you!”

  Mother Raven bustled Wilona away, muttering something about checking on the cheeses.

  “Who does he think he is anyway?” Wilona whinged.

  “He’s the crown prince, that’s who he is.”

  “And I suppose that gives him license to be rude and take bites out of food without paying for it, and squash people half to death when all I was trying to do was get the spider off the apple.”

  Mother raven sighed. “In some ways my dear, it does.”

  ~~~

  At the end of the day, they returned to the farm – their wagon loaded with exchanged goods and extra coins for their troubles. Mother Raven couldn’t wait to tell the family about ‘the incident’. Everybody laughed. Except Wilona. Embarrassment scorched her face and she fled the house rather than listen to their laughter for one more second. She climbed an apple tree and watched the sun setting. An early star shone in the darkening sky. Should she make a wish? This is a fairytale after all.

  She thought of a good wish, and then a better one came straight after that, but after some really good thinking, she came up with the best wish she could think of:

  “I wish the prince could appreciate spiders.”

  She shut her eyes and wished really, really hard.

  When she opened her eyes, even more stars had come out to play, her body felt calm and – more importantly – she’d stopped feeling quite so sorry for herself about what an idiot she’d been at the market. Maybe, as Mother Hawk suggested, she might even be able to laugh at herself when she looked back on this day. But not yet, obviously.

  A twig snapped.

  “Who’s there?” Wilona asked as she looked towards the noise.

  “A mere traveller,” a male voice said.

  It sounded exactly like . . . in the darkness, Wilona’s ears did all the work because it was hard to see his face, but he sounded just like the prince from the market.

  But what the prince would be doing out here in the dark was anyone’s guess.

  Plus, he was alone. Where were his body guards?

  “Are you lost?” Maybe it wasn’t the prince after all? Maybe she just had prince-on-the-brain?

  “Er, no, I am a traveller, and I heard about your apples. I merely came looking to buy some.”

  At this time of night?

  “We sold them all at the Cronut market today.”

  “Yet your trees are laden with fruit.”

  Wilona’s suspicion rose. “These aren’t ripe. If you eat unripe apples, you’ll get a stomach ache.”

  “The apples on the branches near you appear ripe and rosy.” He said.

  Sure, he wore different clothing to earlier today, and his hat had no feather, but he didn’t look like a traveller – moonlight glinted off the shine on his boots for a start. A smile crept over Wilona’s face as she said, “If you climb up here, you can have as many apples as you want.”

  “You want me to climb up th–” He suddenly stopped, as if he’d given himself away.

  This confirmed Wilona’s suspicions. She climbed down a branch and held her hand out to him. “Here, I’ll even help you up.”

  He looked puzzled for a moment, then he accepted her offer and slapped his hand into hers. It was smooth and soft, the hands of someone who did not labour in the fields.

  She hauled him up and he scrambled into a nearby branch, holding on to the trunk to keep his balance. “You can stop acting now, I know who you are,” Wilona said.

  “What do you mean by that?” He sounded cross. From here, he could reach an apple if only he stood on the branch. But he didn’t seem able to move.

  “You’ve never climbed a tree, and your hands are soft as a kitten’s paw. If you’re a traveller, then I’m a princess!”

  She leaned forward and flicked his silly hat off, confirming his identity. “Good evening, your serene highness.”

  Clinging to the tree he said, “At least you’ve learned some manners since this afternoon.”

  “No wonder you’re in a bad mood if you’ve never climbed a tree before. What’s the point in being a prince if you can’t climb a tree when you want to?”

  “You will stop making fun at my expense and help me down.” He said, ditching any last attempt to sound like a traveller and reverting to his highness-ness.

  Wilona knew what that felt like. Hadn’t her family done just the same thing to her? “I didn’t mean it. I’ll grab you some apples to make it up to you.”

  She climbed up, twisted three of the ripest apples she could reach, tucked them into her shirt and scarpered down the again. Once she was level with the prince, she said, “Give me your hand then and I’ll lower you down.”

  He held on tightly as she helped him out of the tree and onto firm ground. Then she jumped down beside him and produced the apples.

  Alas, in jumping down, she shook several spiders from a nearby branch, and as luck would have it, those very same spiders just happened to land on the prince’s hand as he reached for the apples.

  “Arrrrgggh!” he yelled as he jumped back in shock. “Horrible things!”

  “Stay still!” she ordered him, as she lifted a few stray spiders off his hat. “They really won’t bite.”

  So much for her really, really good wish earlier. The prince hadn’t changed one bit. “Why are you so scared of something so small, anyway?”

  “Because they’re spiders!”

  “One more,” she reached for his neck and drew the last spider off his collar. “All done.”

  “These apples better be worth it,” he said.

  “Of course, they are,” she gave him the apples. “You should r
econsider spiders. They are excellent help in the garden, and they’re a wonderful burglar alarm system.”

  “They are?”

  “Yes. Their silk is so strong, that if anyone tries to steal fruit, they walk face-first into webbing. Their screams can be heard right through the valleys.”

  “You’re not afraid of them at all, are you?”

  “They’re my helpers.”

  He wiped the apple to make sure there were no spiders on it, then took a bite. He made a soft groan of delight in the back of his throat.

  “I told you they were good.”

  “You are a weird. You’re not scared of spiders, and you’re not scared of me either.”

  “Should I be?”

  He took another bite and made a slurping noise as the juice sloshed in his mouth. “My whole life, nobody has ever been as rude to me as you.”

  “I bet your whole life you’ve never been punished either. You need to earn respect instead of demanding it. If you’d been more respectful at the market, you wouldn’t have created such a scene.”

  “I did not create the scene, you did, when you lunged at me.”

  “I wouldn’t have lunged if you hadn’t grabbed the apple before asking.”

  “I’m a prince, I don’t need to ask.”

  So arrogant! “With that attitude, heaven help us when you become king.”

  He laughed at that. “We don’t have a king, we have a Grand Duke.”

  “Then I hope you never grow up to be him either!”

  He laughed again, “You need a lesson in civics, I’m the youngest of four sons. It would take a terrible calamity for me to become Grand Duke.”

  ~~~

  Mother Hawke’s leg still hadn’t healed enough, and Mother Raven still needed help with The Market. For many weeks, she left Wilona at home just to make sure she couldn’t cause a scene. But eventually, as the harvest came to its end and the weather turned colder, and Wilona’s promoised to behave wore Mother Raven down, she was once again allowed to go to the market.

  “I shall treat everyone as if they are royalty,” she declared.