Sometimes things work out the way you hope. I'm learning that.
'Course most often, things bite, like cramming to finish Morlson's homework assignment.
"How's it going?"
I shrugged my shoulders and stared at the screen like I was majorly engrossed in it.
"You know, Susie. Paul is my friend."
My mind whirled into a coma so deep my body felt numb.
"My new friend." She added.
Throwing up, now!
"K. Mom. Like. Please. Keep it to yourself."
"Susie. He's very lonely."
"Okay. Mother. That's SO not keeping it to yourself."
She started to speak again but I cut her off. "Look. Mom. Whatever. Okay? I mean. I really don't have time. I have to finish this report or the Queen, Morlson the toad, is going to give me a big fat F for the assignment."
"Can I help?"
"Can you hel--" I rolled my eyes. "Please?" I strained it out as if I were so consumed by the subject matter at hand there was no allowing anyone anywhere to help me anytime, no thank you, no how!
What I really wanted was for her to get her made up face out of my room and to start acting like mom again.
"Okay." She pulled the door back toward her but hesitated a sec. "Want some cookies and milk."
"Grunt." I flipped my hands up at my computer as if to offer it gold, frankincense and myrrh. "Mother. Please?"
She whispered, "Okay. Okay. Sorry," and pulled the door closed.
My gaze seemed to stick there at the knob not knowing what to do but then she spoke from the other side. She hadn't left yet. "If you need anything."
And, like a flood rushing down a dry river bed, the tears flowed out of my eyes.
I wanted to scream, "I need my dad back! I need my dad back!" But, instead, I buried my mouth into my sleeve smothering any noise that tried to escape.
TWENTY FIVE - The Day I Became a Secret Agent
Like. It wasn't as if I had my ear to the door or anything. Pa-lease.
It was the perfect coalescence of a time/opportunity moment. I mean, I was only walking by the classroom on my way to lunch. The halls had emptied. Not a grumbling stomach could be heard or found in the hallways, anywhere.
It was at that perfect moment I heard Morlson-Mc-Forlson speaking in her whispery manly voice. It stopped me cold.
I DID, at that juncture, however, peek into the door which was cracked a little and saw batboy in there with her. They were alone.
And, me?
I had officially become an eavesdropper. :)
"Matthew." She always called Matt by his proper name since he came to our school. "Matthew," she says, "You haven't seemed to have blended into our program as of yet." Like how many words do you need in one sentence?
Matt stood with his backpack slung over both shoulders. It bulged with books. He'd forced his hands deep into both slumpy pockets. And, was looking at his feet.
Morlson's huge-a-mundo carcass rested on that poor desk of hers. If that desk had a face it would be wincing in pain.
A pencil got trapped between her butt and the day-planner that covered her desk. It angled up. I kind of felt like it would be totally cool to tie a little surrender flag on its eraser. "SOS! SOS!" It screamed only for me.
Anywho. There Matt stood, force of nature that he is, listening, nodding every once in a while as Morlson lectured him on his academic performance... thus far.
"I know you're trying," She went on, "but if you don't somehow bring up your grades, I will be forced to fail you in this class."
Matt's head dropped further onto his chest--if that's possible--and he bobbed his head once that he understood. The thing that got to me was that Morlson actually seemed saddened about his predicament. She was coddling him.
Suddenly, I felt something like fire filling my cheeks. Not once, in all my dealings with the frog monger did Morlson ever, I mean never, ever treat me as though she were unhappy about my shortcomings with my previous student self.
Then, it hit me. She hated me.
The apparent in equanimity between her handling of Mat-thew and me appeared like--
Okay, okay. So, like, this is me, over here on the Arizona side of the Grand Canyon and, like, this is Mat-thew over there, standing on the Utah side! And there's Morlson over there with Mat-thew hugging him and squeezing him and making me want to hurl up a real-size 50-lb sturgeon, backwards, spines first and all!
Of all the...
Well, I don't know what "of all the" means at this point but, I have to tell you, I got blasted angry, I did.
When I pulled back away from the crack in the door, Matt's head moved as if he might've noticed me. But, I snuck off without being detected. I think.
TWENTY SIX - On the Prowl... Again!
Delilah and I had to duck to avoid being seen.
We looked at each other--eyes alert to potential detection--then around our immediate surroundings. The bucket of gardening supplies still sat with all the tools it always had inside, looking ready to go-- a hand spade, a pair of green rubber gardening gloves and some MiracleGro plant food. Everything still in its place however something seemed off. And, at that point, I couldn't figure out what.
The unmistakable phfft phfft phfft of spraying sifted through the air just outside her window, on Morlson's landing... again! But, this time the odor was off. Smelling a bit more surgically clean.
Pussy acted as if she wanted to turn hide and run.
"No. Delilah." I whimpered out in a hush. "We have a job to do!"
Delilah mewed a tiny growl but I yanked on her ear and she forgot and began to purr. Then, she sat down, well below the window's ledge and began licking her, ahem, you guessed... her hoo.
"Sheesh, pussy! Give it a rest already."
Delilah looked up, leg still at high salute, and licked her lips, like, "What's wrong?"
I just shook my spider head, crawled up the face of the wall and peeked into the window.
The surgically clean smell seemed stronger up there.
Still, we had another job to do, another attack on the Queen was in order.
Just then, Morlson appeared at the window.
I froze.
She flipped open the window wide then turned and walked away, fast, nearly in a sprint. But, sprinting with Morlson's body looked less graceful than a hippopotamus doing the samba. I can't delete the image from my mind, no matter how hard I try!
She hadn't seen me. Why would she? It was dark outside, light inside and the wall between light and dark obscured at the point where they met.
With the window gaping open, I had clear passage in to her room. Again! Whippee.
And, as I climbed onto the inner ledge something felt slick under my feet. I became overcome with wooziness.
I was about to flip over and take a long snoooooooze, when Morlson returned... with a broom... held high... above her head.... coming for... ME!
Our eyes connected.
I was frozen!
TWENTY SEVEN - What Spell-checker Doesn't Catch
Twelve-O-9 in the morning and I'd just finished spell-checking my report. I'd remembered mom saying something about how she always spell-checked any written documents that she sent out, whether hard copy or email.
She'd said, "You should too, Susie. Lest you be marked down for poor spelling. Selah."
Lord.
And, I get that it's just spell-check and it can't catch words like to and too or do and due or no and know or way and weigh or be and bee (and even Bea) or there and their or its and it's or, well, you get what I mean. So, although I always used my spell-checking tool, it didn't necessarily caught my errors. Ultimately, the snaggliest of snaggly-pusses did, Ms. Morlson, the Queen... btw, since mom first used that term for Ms. Morlson, I started referring to her that way too. Then, Ricki and Jamie picked it up and, well, it sort of took off. Now, EVERYONE in school calls her that. 'Course she doesn't know it. She's totally oblivious.
Still, I wrote THE END on the
bottom of the final page of my report and called it a night--as Susie Speider, that is.
After brushing my teeth and washing my face, after toning my skin with SeaBreeze and filling my now cleared pours with emollient form the extra cost-saving tub of Kirkland Signature™ by Borghese, I made plans for tonight's adventure as I brushed out my hair and stared at myself in the mirror.
After re-attaching a scrunchy around a cord of my locks, I dragged my now exhausted body into my room and even thought about not putting on my PJs but leaving on the clothes I'd worn since the morning, they felt as if they wanted to meld into my already dented skin and so, thinking better of it, I pulled down my jeans.
Then, I pulled them back up. The blinds were open. The light was on.
Holding my zipper together with my hands, I walked over to the light switch and elbowed it off. Matt's bedroom light silhouetted the space between his brown curtains. I thought I noticed someone move like they pulled their head out of view but figured it was my mind going hinky on me.
At the same time, as I was nearing the window I could see mom had left on our front porch lamp. And, as I got nearer, I saw what had moved, or at least I thought I saw what had moved. A spider had snagged a moth at my window. The light had brought it fluttering up and now it was being consumed.
Guilt rose in me. Like, really? That was my fault?
Still, I felt a surge of complicity fill my heart. So many different emotions coursed through me that evening--anger, guilt, pain, sorrow, embarrassment. The list ended up long. Too long.
Then, across the way, I noticed Matt's light went out which took my mind off of the poor moth. He pulled closed his drapes but then they cracked them open again, sort of like someone was peering through them at the bottom.
My face felt hot.
The wack-o.
Right then and there I decided I would confront him tomorrow at school about watching me.
I pulled hard on the cords and the blinds dropped, shrouding me from out there.
TWENTY EIGHT - Talking in Class
Manila folders shuffled up through each row of desks sounding a lot like a stack of oversized playing cards being restacked. We had to turn in our reports a week before our presentations. Talk about adding to the suspense of public speaking. Holy!
A murmur of voices continued while papers flowed up every aisle to the very first desk, where Morlson waxed on boringly with her usual mind-numbing poo at the beginning of each class.
My body tightened when Matt tapped me on the shoulder. He whispered up behind my ear, "You worked late last night."
Sheesh. Almighty.
I hadn't even gotten the chance to yell at him and there he was basically admitting to me that he was a Peeping Tom. 'Azin'!
I pivoted fast in my chair and glared at him. "You were watching me again!?" And whispered but a little too loud as it turned out.
"Susie Speider." Morlson's voice boomed out like a budding opera singer, a basso alto mezzo, if ever. "If you have something to say, why don't you say it for the entire class. Hmm?" She waved a pink slip of paper in her mitt of a hand. It looked like a label you might find on a cured ham. A snicker escaped from the group of Cinda and Melinda wannabes and the boys who wanted Cinda and Melinda--David and Joe. It was gross.
"'S'cuse me. Ms."
"It's Mrs."
"Miss-ez Morlson," Enunciating the title clearer made my eyes squinch tight and my braces gleam, and making the entire class giggle, making Morlson unleash the hounds of hell on me.
"No. I will not 's'cuse you. You had something to say so say it."
"Really, Ms.," her face bent and her nose crumpled, "Mrs. Morslon. Really. It was nothing. I'm sorry. It won't happen..."
"No. It won't happen again. It better not happen again. But, that still does not excooooz you from repeating what the two of you were talking about. Does it?"
"Mrs. Morlson. Please." My eyes were lowered but still I was trying to look around the class who, by that time, had all eyes on me.
"Now."
"Please."
"Now!"
I stood.
"Sit down!"
I sat.
I buried my face in my hands and panicked that I might cry in front of everyone in the room.
"Miss Speider, I said NOW!"
My eyes lifted to the teacher beast. My voice shook and cracked, "I was telling Matt..." My voice broke and a surge of tears came flooding out.
Then, like a miracle, the sea parted.
Matt jumped in. "It was my fault, Mrs. Morlson." I rubbed my knuckles into my eyes and wiped my nose then looked over at Matt, slowly. "Mrs. Speider had invited me and my dad over for dinner last night and I was just saying thank you again." He smiled.
I looked at Morlson and it was as if she melted, well, sort of melted, as much as a hard bent crusty old crone like she could melt. "And, Susie, here was just saying you're welcome."
Her gaze went from soft to gritty when her eyes came back to meet mine. I just nodded my head in quick little snaps agreeing with Matt's account as I rubbed my nose across my sleeve.
"Yes. That was all." I looked at Matt again who smiled at me. I smiled back and then turned and smiled at Morlson who seemed to grow redder as the lie got bigger. Then, I looked back at Matt. "You're welcome, Matt. Anytime."
I turned quick into my seat and placed my hands on top of my desk as if to pray to the heavens above. As if. Okay. Rewrite that... I placed my hands on my desk praying to our Lord & Savior God the Almighty, to let the pigmeister buy Matt's story.
That's when she bumped her big butt, knocking into every single desk along the way, through aisle of desks leading to mine, where she stopped next to me and looked down on me.
If this was at all possible her whole body seemed to grow, her head too. It was as though she had turned into one of those enormous Macy's parade balloons, skyscraper tall, and she was hovering over me!
Her face squeezed into that sphincter thing she does when she sees me. Then she smiled. Not in a "glad to know you" kind of way. No. It was an evil look. OMG.
"The principal wishes to see you, young,,," (it sounded like a stutter), "lady, in his office tomorrow morning."
She flopped the pink slip onto my desk. After reading it, my stomach flip-flopped. Sure enough, I had an appointment with the principle, Mr. Haggert, in the morning. From the note, I couldn't tell what high-jinx I was being pinched for.
She smirked and puffed out a wry snigger then turned back, again, knocking her wide load into the desks, all the way back out of the aisle, nudging kids bodies along as she went.
She waddled past her desk, (I thought I saw it wipe an eyebrow). She decided not to sit down on it.
Then, she continued around, walking behind it, to the white board on the wall to write.
Her attack on me was over.
Thank you God.
Thank you God.
And, yes. I'll admit it... thank you... Matt.
TWENTY NINE - Call in the Cat!
My voice peeped out, "AACCCKKKK!"
Which, pussy heard instantly and like a gunshot she flew in through the window, knocking me off the wetted ledge and onto the carpeting. I curled in a pile at the bottom of the window.
Delilah, stood arch-backed, flat-eared at Morlson's feet. Her lips pulled back in a snarl. She growled in a low pussy "Rooorrr, mrrrrrr!" Just like she does when she sees dogs on TV. (The gall of them there dawgs, on TV, no less! Of course, she loves seeing other cats and, birds? OMG.)
But, I digress...
Morlson let out this huge, "ARRRRR!" In her manly voice but, then, now, add in the voice of a, a, a... okay, add in the voice of a 6-foot rat screaming at full decibels.
Imagine that sound if you will. Please.
Hideous. JUNE!
Well, certainly, pussy had never ever heard a sound like that before, especially as Morlson's broom connected on Delilah's rump. Pussy let out a spitty hiss and leapt back through the window from whence she came.
; There I was all alone with the Queen of Toads & All Things Amphibious--with a broom as her sword and me curling up like a prickly pear blossom mid-summer in Death Valley. And, that's bad. That's really, REALLY bad.
As I watched pussy scramble through the window, my heart sank.
And, when Morlson looked away from the window and down at the floor, doomsday, came to mind.
I tried but I couldn't straighten out my legs. Whatever I'd stepped into on the ledge had me glued into my current, very unattractive and uncomfortable position. I felt like I'd been mummified but could still see everything, hear everything, perfectly.
Morlson bent over. Then she stood up straight, leaning the broom onto the edge of her bed.
"There you are you nasty little bugger."
I couldn't believe nerve of her, calling me that, a curse to all bugs on this entire earth--a curse on spiders, for sure. And, most certainly, a curse on me.
She walked over to her dresser.
I struggled to move my legs.
Nothing.
Her back was to me now as I watched on.
More struggling to move... more nothing.
I couldn't see what she was holding because of her body blocked my view but she had picked up something.
Outside Delilah yowled.
"Shaddap, ya stupid cat!" Then Morlson spun around. Her eyebrows creased in an evil V. They were streaked red with engorged capillaries. Then, I looked at what she was holding...
...in both hands...
...it was a...
...a, a, a spray pumper full of... ...RAID!
THIRTY - Minimal Effort of Thanks
"Don't get any ideas." The soapy water felt warm on my hands and smelled fresher than the air around us. I looked up and out of the window above Matt and Paul's sink. The evening had begun to throw a light blue veil over the day as I gazed across to our house, into our open garage. Seeing only mom's car parked inside, pulled at some trigger located directly behind my eyes.
But, I foiled my emotions by talking more. "I just thought you might need a little help around here. I mean, I already finished practicing my sax, my homework and my chores and thought, hey, I wonder if Matt and Paul might need some help around their place, and so here I am. Do not think I'm be your maid or that I'll be doing this again anytime soon."
Spider Brains: A Love Story (Book One) Page 9
