Spider Brains: A Love Story (Book One)

by Wingate, Susan

  Matt nodded and pushed up off the ground and collected his backpack.

  "Wanna file charges?" Haggert goaded him. "You can if you want. It's in your purview to do so."

  Matt just looked down at the ground and shook his head.

  "File charges, Matt. I'm your key witness." I wanted him to do it so bad but he wouldn't.

  But, he shook his head again, refusing.

  "Fine. I'll just do what I can then." Haggert pulled them along with him as he walked back toward his office.

  "What's wrong with you?" I got into his face. "You could've gotten them expelled for life! What's wrong with you."

  "It wouldn't matter."

  "It would matter. It would."

  He adjusted his green tee-shirt and rubbed at his back pocket, massaging his hip below. His face churned as he rubbed out the pain.

  "No, it wouldn't. They don't get it. They may never."

  And, we both seemed to come out of some sort of private cocoon. Looking around people began dispersing, shaking their heads at us, rolling their eyes and speaking in muffled tones some sniggering under cupped hands. I was so embarrassed.

  "Well, they'd certainly have time to think about it, sitting at home, all expelled and everything."

  Cinda and Melinda got up, glared at me, making me glare and stick out my tongue at them, making them turn up their popular noses at me and then they huffed off. We turned away from them, everyone, we were leaving school, in the direction of our neighborhood. It seemed we were going to walk home together.

  But, instead of heading straight out, Matt walked off to the right, which would lead us directly down the road that passes the cemetery.

  "They'd just come back heroes." Matt continued to brush at his pants.

  "Huh?" Then, I rolled my eyes and shook my head when I remembered what we were talking about. "I don't get you."

  I stopped, making him stop.

  He smiled at me. "I get you."

  "Gah." I began walking again. "What does that mean?"

  He lowered his face to my level and eye-to-eye with me said, "I failed my first test in afterschool study." My face went hot. The subterfuge worked. I kept quiet and let him continue. "I didn't want to disappoint you but I feel like I've let you down."

  "Stop it." I looked aside, away from his eyes, then back to him as we started to walk again. His face was still red, I assumed from the fight. "Look. You'll do better." I paused contemplating my next words carefully but wanting to be honest with him too. "I haven't been completely honest with you."

  "No?" He said. "How?" And, he was back to his single sentences again.

  "How? I, I..."

  "Wait. You mean," he chuckled, and it felt like maybe the first time I'd really heard Matt laugh, "You mean, the Sea of Cortez is not in my ear?" He stopped walking again. "No kidding."

  He knew I'd been messing with him during our tutoring sessions. And, he was laughing at me about it.

  "Gah." I turned and stopped facing him full-front and smiled at him while he laughed. Then, we started to walk again. "I'm sorry. It's just..."

  "I know. You hate me."

  "Wrong."

  And, there it was. The truth.

  I didn't really hate him. He bugged me, yes, bugged me like Rider bugged Susi Spidr, but I didn't hate him. In fact, he was sort of growing on me, like moss, being around me all the time and everything. 'Course he'd never ever get to the Beiber level. Ever.

  "Cool." He said and we continued to walk toward our neighborhood, turning right once, out of the gates of Ronkonkoma High.

  So much for my plans of subterfuge.

  THIRTY NINE - Dodging the Dead

  I stopped before we'd headed off too far. "Let's turn back and go that way."

  "This way's faster."

  "Yeah. But..."

  When I stopped, he stopped.

  "What."

  "I don't like this way."

  "You don't like this way?"

  My cheeks burned instantly at his apparent sarcasm. "No." I put both my hands onto my hips. "No. I don't." Looking him squarely in the face, "Okay!"

  He looked down the road we were heading, then toward the other way. Then down the quicker route again. You could actually see a thin veil, like a Rani's, falling from over his eyes.

  "Don't tell me. Susie Speider is afraid of the cemetery." Then he made a boo-ing noise and fluttered his hands around his face.

  "Shut it!" My eyes burned hot. I got angry but an overpowering of sadness grabbed me by the throat.

  Matt must've noticed because he apologized, right away. "Sorry." Then, stammered. "I'm, I'm... I didn't mean it."

  "Forget it!" I squawked at him. And, clomped off toward the graveyard. My walking took on the tempo of frontline soldiers heading for battle.

  Matt's quick steps behind me, beside me, then behind me again, indicated he was working to keep up with my pace. I just kept my head down, watching the sidewalk change from school property dull, to a black paved road, to the first gray neighborhood sidewalk, to another black road, then into the sidewalk that curved so prettily and ran along the front of the cemetery, past the entrance and then off a hundred feet or so past that. We had arrived.

  Ronkonkoma Christian Cemetery--YOU CARRY 'EM WE BURY 'EM!

  My marching slowed as I, once again, viewed the tiny crystal specks in the sidewalk distinctly glittering, not like the other sidewalks. These speckles glistened in amber and golden tones, in teal and violet, as if someone had dropped an enormous Murano vase (pronounced VOZZZZ) and it shattered into a trillion of the minutest bits of glass that someone happily showered over top of the cement just before allowing it to dry.

  I hated that sidewalk.

  How could someone want to make it look pretty. How could someone really think that the people who dumped the bodies of family members there, wanted pretty!

  And, even though the pretty sparkling speckles shown bright under a high linty sky, I wanted whoever had built this place to die. Like my father, who laid in there, one turn to the left, then to the right, then left again and eighteen plots further against the high west wall that surrounded it.

  I stopped at the entrance and faced it.

  Matt shuffled up next to me.

  I spit on the ground.

  Then, Matt spit too.

  "What are you doing?" I'd had just about enough of him for one day.

  "Spitting."

  "No. Duh. Why?"

  "Because you did."

  Okay. This conversation had already run its course. I turned toward home and marched off again.

  "Hey!" Matt called out to me, running up again to catch me. His steps joggled his words. "My mom's there too."

  His words felt like a slingshot and I was the sling. I stopped at once. It all made sense, them moving across the street--close to his mom.

  Then, we were shoulder to shoulder. "I can spit too if I want."

  I wasn't about to look at him. If our eyes connected, something bad might happen. I turned though toward the cemetery once again. I built up as much saliva onto my tongue as possible. Matt, watching me, did the same 'cause he said, "Ready?"

  "Mm hmm."

  "un, thoo, fwee, guh!"

  And, then, we both spit on the ground, at the same time.

  FORTY - Welcome to the Orphanage

  The plows were out early this morning. I felt my stomach playing the marimba.

  It started to snow, big corn flake-snow. By the time Matt and I made it to school there was already two inches of powder on the ground. Lucky for me I wore my cool Doc Martin look-alikes, ones good old mom brought me home from work as part of my new school clothes at the beginning of sophomore year, the ones with tire treads for soles. But, I wished I'd put on a heavier coat because the shivers started as soon as I heard the plows, somewhere around the corner.

  Delilah jumped up onto my desk and then made this graceful little leap to the sill. We watched together as snow fell.

  I scratched her head then chased my ha
nd along her fur down her back and off the tip of her puffy calico tail.

  "It's almost one year, Delilah."

  She made an audible yow and arched her back understanding my words.

  I wiped my nose with my sleeve. "Gotta go, pussy. I'll be home soon."

  The snow fell like a ticker tape parade, making me blink my eyes uncontrollably. My book bag felt heavier than normal, waiting there, just outside Matt's house.

  The scraping of his front door made me jump and turn. "Hey." He called to me.

  "Hey." I shrunk my arms around my body but nothing could shake the overwhelming sensation growing in me of chills mixed with doom.

  The sky looked like charcoal briquettes scudding across, rolling end-over-end, so heavy.

  "Dad's still in bed."

  "Mom's at work." Then the thought struck me. "Doesn't Paul ever go to work?"

  "He's taking time off."

  I made a humphawing sound. We turned hard to the left, toward the cemetery. I thought, Divert your eyes! Divert your eyes!

  But, of course my head was made of iron and the cemetery? A moon-sized magnet.

  "Why do they keep that place so perfect." My teeth chattered out. I dropped my head and pulled my jacket up around my neck for added protection.

  "Come on, don't think about it." He looked over, I saw out the corner of my eye. "Just erase it from your thoughts." He turned his gaze toward the direction of the school.

  We didn't say a word after that. We both, as our new custom dictated us, spit at the entrance. Of course.

  But, really, all you could hear after that was the crunching of our feet over freshly fallen snow and the panting of our breath with each step, as each step formed a crystalline ghost in front of our faces.

  FORTY ONE - Public Speaking

  Even after we got inside Morlson's classroom, I couldn't stop the shaking. Just then, Morlson and I caught eyes.

  Hers squinted. Mine snuck away.

  A flash of something stuck in my memory, a plastic pumper bottle, but it didn't register, not then.

  All I could think was that Morlson was Sodom & Gomorrah and I was Lot's wife. I could feel my skin drying out as I began turning into a pillar of salt.

  I raced to my desk before the transformation could take hold.

  Still, the shivers felt like tiny earthquakes inside my bones. All this, these chills, couldn't have been about dad. I mean. The anniversary of his death was approaching but that was still a couple of weeks away.

  "Want my coat?" Matt started to take it off but I stopped him. How uncool would that be if people saw Matthew Ryder covering my shoulders with his coat. Gag me. I'd be like the laughing stock of Ronkonkoma High, and long after graduation.

  "God. No. Zoid." My eyes flared open at him and I looked around hoping no one had seen. "Are you trying to ruin me?"

  "Sorry."

  "Shh." I scolded him. "Sit down and hush. It feels like Morlson's on the attack again today. Did you see that look she shot me?"

  "Yeah. Did." He slung his brown corduroy jacket over the back of his chair and sat. "She hates you, man."

  "Man?"

  "Sorry."

  "Shh."

  "Today!" Her voice echoed against the back wall and it kind of hurt my ears. "We all get to present our science projects, of which I've graded your reports and have right here." She tapped a pencil on top of the stack of manila folders lying on her desk, next to her other arm. "Cinda, you go first."

  Cinda pulled at her short blue and green plaid woolen skirt, then tugged at her blue tights. She pressed her short blond hair behind one ear and stood, posture perfect, hand holding her chartreuse eraser pen in the air, bending her elbow and swinging the pen as she walked. She turned to face the rest of us in the front of the classroom.

  Morlson walked over to the wall, the window wall where she had lined up our science projects. It looked like something you might see at an aquarium convention. Then, she placed Cinda's project onto a wheeled cart and rolled it up next to her where she stood.

  "There you are, dear."

  Gag. Dear.

  "Ahem." Cinda cleared her throat. "I have observed, for my science project, the incubation period of an egg--a chicken egg."

  Pa-lease. As Cinda spoke, she pronounced every 'the' like thee and every 'a' like hay but without the 'h.' I blew an audible puff of air through my lips and looked over at Jamie, who rolled her eyes and made a stroking motion with her hand that looked like a boy who was masturbating. I snorted out a choked off laugh.

  "Miss Speider! Quiet. You'll have your turn."

  I lowered my head behind Jimmy, who sat directly in front of me.

  By then, the chills had subsided but my hands felt like ice. I rubbed them hard which Morlson mistook for a villainous act.

  "Miss Speider. I promise you. I will not abide by all of your interruptions."

  "Sorry, Ms..." Oops. "Mrs. Morlson. It's just that..."

  "Please. Let's let Cinda continue."

  "Yes. Well. Um. Where was I."

  Jamie yelled out. "You're incubating an egg."

  A clutch of kids chortled.

  Cinda's face went red.

  Mrs. Morlson pounded her fist on the table.

  Cinda proceeded. "Over the last couple of weeks," "I have been studying the incubation process of a chicken egg which should take approximately 21 days to hatch. The air must be well-ventilated and the egg's environment must be warm, from 99F to 103F, and the egg must be turned a couple times a day, until the 18th day." She swallowed. Her face flushed red. She pulled another scrap of perfectly straight blonde hair behind her other ear now. "Today is the 17th day and so, I will refrain from turning the egg tomorrow." She sounded like a robot. "I will be excited to see this little chick emerge from its shell." Swallowing more. "It will pry its way out of the shell. And. Once it has pried its way out of the shell, it will need regular chicken feed and begin eating on its own. Oh. And, it will require water too."

  Kids muffled their laughter.

  "Shh!" Morlson bit out a sharp sound that ended as if air escaping from a tire going flat.

  "The end." Cinda curtsied pulling at the hem of her skirt.

  "Very well done, Cinda."

  Kids applauded. Billy stuck his finger into his throat acting like he does, feigning to vomit, again.

  "Very nice." Morlson continued. "Okay, then. Up next... Matthew Ryder." Morlson rolled Cinda's project back to the wall putting it back in place then from the long shelf that ran the wall's length, she extracted Matt's aquarium.

  When Matt stood his chair scraped across the floor like an animal screaming in pain. Then, it stopped suddenly as it caught on something and tipped backwards falling over. David and Joe both held up Ls to their stupid foreheads, silently proclaiming Matt a loser.

  "Oh. Sorry." He said placing his chair back upright.

  I rolled my eyes, as I laid my forehead onto my crossed arms on top of my desk.

  "Matthew." She coaxed him forward. "No problem."

  Matt slumped and shuffled his way up to the front and Morlson, as she did with Cinda, rolled Matt's project up next to him. Then, returned to sit at her desk.

  "Um."

  "Dork!" Joe coughed into his a clenched fist.

  "Shut up creep." I yelled at him through a wash of several people either chuckling with or hissing at Joe.

  "Miss Speider. Manners. Please. In my class we will have manners!"

  I pressed my back hard against my chair and blew out a puff of air. Then I crossed my arms tight against my chest.

  "Matthew. You can continue." She snarled a glance at me, a laser shot.

  "Um. I incubated a chicken egg too. Like Cinda. Um. But, actually, it begins to pry its way out of the shell on the 17th day and that's when you should stop turning it, at least three times a day." Matt was up there refuting Cinda's information. A dangerous proposition considering Morlson's apparent love-affair with Cinda. Morlson started to shuffle her big butt in her chair, looking uncomfortable (l
ike, when you get all squirmy, like, when you're trying to suppress a big ol' fart?) by Matt's public correction. But, he continued, his back to Morlson, unawares of his error, "The chick begins to pick through the shell with its 'egg-tooth' which it loses shortly after emerging from the shell."

  "Excuse me." It had to happen. "Mr. Ryder," Oh no, he'd lost first-name basis with the toadmeister, "I must disagree with you."

  "Huh?" Matt stopped and turned to Morlson.

  "You're wrong. Cinda's report is correct. I'm most 100% sure. In fact, as you'll note on your report, I've marked you down for incorrectness. Cinda got a perfect grade."

  "But, Mrs. Morlson, I'm sure..."

  "Sorry Matthew," Then she tipped her head like 'you poor stupid dear', "Cinda's report is the correct one."

  "Doi, doi, doi!" Came booming out of David and Joe jumped in.

  Morlson stopped Matt's presentation mid-stream as she rolled his project away and back against the wall, putting it onto the long shelf that ran its length. "Boys. Stop. Matthew you may sit down."

  Matt walked as if knee-deep through a pile of horse manure back down our aisle to his desk. From behind me, it sounded as if he fell with his entire weight back into his seat.

  "Okay. Fine. Next." Morlson looked at the next report on the heap of folders and then lifted it up to view the one underneath it. "Is Tammy Jomes here today?" She asked the class.

  A murmur of no's wafted through the room.

  "Well, fine, then." She dropped the top folder back onto the pile. "Next is," she looked up at me, "Miss Susie Speider." I can't even describe the face Morlson made. Biting into tin with a silver filling? Accidentally, flipping cat poo into your mouth while cleaning the litter box? A mix of the two is my best guess. I mean. The shivers came back as if I had malaria or something.

  I arose slowly feeling like my body would melt before getting to the front.

  This time Morlson didn't move. I stood there waiting but she wasn't intending to roll my project, yet another aquarium, next to me. I waited and waited. Expecting it to show up any moment now. But, nothing.

  I looked behind me. Morlson just stared venomously at me and motionless.

  My face broke into a anxious smile, gleaming braces catching a ray of the ceiling-mounted fluorescent lamps. My lips twitched from a smile into a nervous pucker and, then, closed to conceal my teeth.