by Emma Read
‘I don’t know.’ Dillon grabbed her shoulders. ‘But he looked pretty frantic. You should do as he says.’ He spun her around towards the bathroom.
Zoe shuffled to the door, grabbing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt from the end of the bed as she went.
‘And brush your teeth,’ Dillon called after her.
Zoe ran her hands through her hair as she returned to the bedroom, only then realizing that Dillon was still hanging around.
‘Come on, come on,’ he said, hopping from one foot to the other.
Zoe paused to size him up. Something was weird about this whole situa—
Dillon grabbed her arm, dragged her out of her room and along the corridor to the lifts.
As the doors closed and he pressed the button for the ground floor, his willpower seemed to leave him and he broke into a wide grin.
Zoe shifted her weight, her hands finding their usual spot on her hips. ‘What?’
‘I can’t. I mean . . .’ He tried to rearrange his face back to its previous look of poorly-acted concern. ‘Something big is going on.’
The lift doors opened and Dillon grabbed her again, pulling her through the lobby and out of the revolving doors.
‘Ta-da!’ Dillon gestured to the waiting golf buggy with a flourish. ‘Your carriage awaits, my lady.’ He put a brightly coloured hibiscus lei over her head and ushered her into the back seats before climbing in after her.
As they pootled along the street towards the beach, Dillon refused to answer any of Zoe’s questions, repeatedly making an annoying lips-zipped motion every time she asked. So she gave up and folded her arms, almost crushing the flowers.
Not long after (although long enough at only twenty-five kilometres per hour) they were welcomed by a queue of people clapping and smiling.
A Hawaiian woman, dressed in the most beautiful flower headdress took her hand. ‘Our VIP guest has arrived. Zoe, please come with me. Your dad and Greta are waiting for you.’
Confusion rippled across Zoe’s face, as she walked along the queue of people, all smiling at her. Bradley and what looked like the entire hotel staff were there, and the lady from the ice-cream shop. Jenna and Mako were a bit further along, though not filming thankfully. Jenna did have a normal camera, though, and was taking pictures.
What on earth was going on?
At the end of the queue, two people were holding enormous palm leaves across her path, blocking her view of the sea. As she approached they pulled them back with a dramatic flourish, to reveal the scene on the beach.
There was her dad, beaming at her with a smile that seemed to reach right down to his feet. Further down the beach, wearing an incredible flowing white dress, was Greta.
‘Dad?’ Zoe took her dad’s arm, still processing what was happening.
‘Zoe, sweetheart. You are our most important guest – Maid of Honour and Best Girl all in one. Without you I would never have met Greta. You brought us together, and now would you do me the incredible honour of giving me away?’
Zoe’s mouth fell open. ‘What do I do?’
‘Just say yes.’
‘OK. I mean, yes!’ Happiness washed over her in waves. ‘You’re getting married? Here? Now?’ She hugged her dad almost violently.
‘We are now you’re here. So mind the threads.’ Owen smoothed his jacket.
‘Oh, Dad, you are so uncool. But this is the coolest thing ever.’ She linked her arm in his. ‘Come on, then, let’s not keep the bride waiting. She might think you’re about to do a runner in a golf buggy.’
Hawaiian Happy Family
The ceremony was perfect – even the spiders, who had never attended a human wedding before (or any wedding, come to that) were overcome with emotion. With so many eyes to cry with they had created a small puddle between them.
‘Oh, that was so beautiful,’ wailed Ralph.
‘Look at them all, dancing together. Doesn’t Zoe look happy in between her dad and Greta?’ Milton sighed contentedly. ‘I think she’s found her place in the family.’
But Ralph and Audrey weren’t listening. They were dancing too, Ralph spinning Audrey beneath his large hairy legs.
Maximus wandered over to Milton and stretched out under one of the human’s parasols. ‘This heat is too much for me, son. I preferred it under the canopy of the trees.’
Milton looked up. The umbrella was somewhat bigger than the one they had soared through the air on. It made his tummy flip to think of it and, now he’d survived in one piece, for some reason he couldn’t help going over all the terrible things that could’ve happened. Mainly involving birds. He resolved to live a much more boring life in future and be grateful for everything he had back at home.
‘Still buzzing from our wild ride?’ said his dad. Maximus looked pleased with himself, but in the light Milton noticed how grey his abdomen was getting and as he reached for a caterpillar kebab he looked stiff in the legs, slower than Milton had realized.
Maximus took a long, refreshing drink of Hawaiian blue lady beetle juice. ‘So, Milton, serious question time. What do you think of Hau‘oli’s suggestion? You like it here, right?’
Milton gazed across the black beach to the sea and breathed in the clear air. ‘It’s pretty, and warm. I like that.’
‘Sure, and the food’s good, right?’ He sucked ambrosia-beetle dip from his claw. ‘So, how about it? You want to stay? Live out here with your old dad? My human’s sticking around for a while, then who knows? He’s such an adventurer is Mako, never a dull moment with him. Africa, Australia, Antarctica? It’s a heck of a life.’
Ralph froze in the middle of an Audrey-twirl and her legs twisted like a rope so she fell over sideways. They both took a deep breath as Milton stumbled over an answer.
Don’t make me choose, please. That’s not fair.
‘Your friends can stay too, of course,’ said Maximus.
‘I thought you’d be coming home with us,’ said Milton. ‘And Zoe and Mr M. I mean, Hawaii is lovely, but if this is what a holiday’s like I plan to go home and never leave again.’
Audrey’s legs un-twizzled.
‘And miss all this? Milton, I haven’t even done that volcano swing yet. It’s my life’s ambition and it’s so close. Especially since it was only a minor eruption – just a false alarm, really.’
‘Mr Milton,’ said Ralph. ‘I’m not the hairiest spider in the box –’ The others gave him a baffled look – he absolutely was the hairiest spider in the box – ‘but I’m pretty sure a volcano is too hot to swing across.’ He looked at Audrey for confirmation. ‘It’s a hot thing, right?’
Audrey and Milton nodded.
‘Dad, you’re a spider of the world. You must know you can’t swing over a pit of molten lava.’
Maximus shuffled his claws. ‘What about a hot vent? A little crack with some steam coming up . . .’ He crumpled on the table. ‘Truth is, Milton. I think I’m on my last legs. I just thought, if I could do one more big swing.’
‘Our new house is quite big,’ said Milton gently. ‘The TV is very far away from the light-shade now. I mean, it’s a really long swing. I’ve tried, but I can’t do it.’
Maximus sighed, though there was a tiny glimmer in his eyes. ‘If you’ll have me . . . I’ll pack my bags. UK, here I come.’
Jenna and Mako came over with Zoe and took some pictures of all the arachnids.
‘I’m going to squeeze in a quick interview with Mr O’Hair for WEBZ/19 News about his amazing conversion to the environmental cause. Zoe, could you bring Milton over for a picture? It was his idea after all.’
Zoe crouched down to Milton, who was shaking his head violently. ‘Would you like to come with me and be on telly again?’
NO THANKS
I HAD ENOUGH BEING FAMOUS
‘I understand. It’s probably for the best anyway. Bradley said something about hiring you as his project manager.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘And we thought a mountainside golf course was ridiculous. Stay under the shade with my dad. I th
ink he’s had a bit much sun, and one too many slices of wedding cake!’
‘Have you really had enough of fame?’ asked Audrey.
‘Fame is a funny thing, but I think I’ve figured it out. I can do good and be famous, without being a celebrity. I don’t need the charity records and sportswear endorsements. I just need to be myself and be with you guys and live in the attic and catch flies for my family.’
‘You’re not giving up on the campaign, are you?’ said Ralph.
‘Not at all. #NotScaredOfSpiders is more important than ever, and I’m going to be supporting the work here and at home.’ He put a leg around Mini’s shoulder. ‘And I have my new personal assistant here, who’s going to help me manage my work/life balance.’ Mini gave Milton the tiniest of tiny high-ones. ‘But I’m a spider and it’s OK to keep—’
Ralph nodded sagely. ‘To dark corners, right?’
‘Not quite. I was going to say, keep my eight feet on the ground.’
It was a wonderful end to the holiday, but an end it was, and after some tearful goodbyes (Bradley went through three, increasingly hideous, hankies) they set off for the airport, their stowaways all safely hidden away. The trip home seemed longer than on the way out and Zoe was more exhausted than ever. She spent most of the flight with her head on Greta’s lap, snoozing. Five spiders safely tucked inside their box.
There were no pat downs, no limousines, no one waiting to collect them. Just a quiet ride home and their old familiar front door.
Zoe took a deep breath as she went into the hall, the spiders riding on her forearm. It smelt of home . . . and a little bit like old rubbish.
‘Owen, did you empty the bin before we left?’ said Greta.
Zoe’s dad made a can-I-quickly-go-back-intime-and-do-that-now? face and dashed back out to get the rest of the suitcases.
‘Let’s have a cup of tea,’ said Greta to Zoe as she went into the kitchen.
‘Sit down, Greta. I’ll make it for you.’ And she hugged her stepmum. ‘Thank you for a great holiday. I know it was a bit crazy, but I’m glad we were all together.’
Greta gave her a big squeeze. ‘And I’m glad that Kilauea didn’t completely blow its top. That wouldn’t have got me many new-parent points!’
‘You’re doing OK. I’ll let you off,’ said Zoe as she put the kettle on and laughed at her dad, who was tying the top of the three-week-old bin bag with his jumper over his nose.
While the kettle boiled, Zoe opened her laptop, and Milton, Maximus, Audrey, Ralph and Mini eyed up the dusty shelves for something to eat.
‘Can’t you leave that alone for five minutes?’ scolded Owen, rolling his eyes.
‘I’ve left it alone for hours – a whole day has passed, and don’t blame the time zones. Ooh, look at this – what a nice write-up.’
On-screen was a newspaper article from the Big Hawaii Post, about the remarkable environmental plans being revealed by local billionaire, Mr Bradley O’Hair. On the front cover was a big photo of Bradley and Dillon, and in a side box, pictures of Milton, Hau‘oli and the Spinnerettes.
The spiders all turned nervously to look at Milton as if he were about to break, or explode, or run away again. But he simply nodded and Zoe grabbed the Spida-Com.
WE DID A GOOD THING
Then he looked at the others and pointed to the stairs.
‘Yes, you go off and get settled in,’ said Zoe.
YOU TOO
he typed, as Zoe and her parents had a family hug.
Milton’s claws were shaking a little as he showed his dad up the stairs, through the hatch and under the beam in the attic. For the longest time he’d wanted his dad to come home, and now he had, Milton was nervous. This was his life, and it was very different from his dad’s. Certainly there were fewer opportunities for natural disasters. Would Dad be disappointed?
Lost in thought, he didn’t notice One Short bombing towards them. ‘You’re home! I missed you.’
‘One Short, I’d like you meet my dad, Maximus. Dad, this is our friend, One Short.’
‘A garden spider?’ Maximus hung back.
‘Yes, it’s a long story,’ said Ralph. ‘I’ll tell you all about it.’
They all chuckled.
‘So . . . what do you think?’ asked Milton nervously.
Maximus smiled. ‘I think it looks like home.’
What Happened Next . . .
Bradley O’Hair was as good as his word and opened a top-class environmental education centre on the Big Island. The clearing was replanted and Bradley also donated one of his golf courses to become a nature reserve. Just one, so far, but Mako and Jenna are working on him.
Maximus reclaimed his position as champion of the lightshade to telly swing. Try as he might, Milton can’t quite beat him.
The #NotScaredOfSpiders campaign launched a new Hawaiian happy-face line of merchandise, including T-shirts and baseball caps. Dillon has one in every colour available.
Zoe, Owen and Greta all went on holiday again, this time camping. In Wales. Nothing whatsoever happened, and it was perfect.
The End
More Spidery Sciencey Stuff
Meet Milton’s newest friends – the Hawaiian happy-face spider and the money spider are, of course, both real spider species. Money spiders make up the largest group of spiders in the world with Mini’s species being the most common in the UK. On the other hand Hau‘oli and his friends are under threat and their numbers are reducing due to habitat loss and predation (that is to say being eaten).
Hau‘oli – Theridion grallator
The Hawaiian happy-face spider is found naturally on only four of the Hawaiian Islands. They are small, like Milton, and very hard to spot as they spend much of their time hiding under forest leaves.
It’s not known why they have such unusual markings, but they are all different; some smile, some frown, some don’t have faces at all (maybe they’re just shy?).
They are generally found high up in the rain-forest, where they are less likely to be eaten by the many non-native species in Hawaii.
Mini – Lepthyphantes tenuis
Mini is from a family of spiders called Liny -phiidae, so you could call her ‘Mini the Liny’.
Around a third of all spiders in the UK are money spiders, and are said to bring good fortune if they run on your clothes.
They build delicate sheet webs, sometimes seen on frosty mornings covering fields, and can travel hundreds of kilometres on their thin strands of web.
New species of money spider are being discovered all the time!
‘Don’t Worry, We’re Just Spiders’ by Hau‘oli and the Spinnerettes
Here’s a little song we wrote,
If you love spiders, you should take note.
We’re not creepy,
We’re just crawly.
We love the mossies and we love the flies,
And especially centipede surprise.
We’re not scary,
We’re just hairy.
So don’t you smash us or squash us, please,
It’s really tough on our forty-eight knees.
We’re not huggy (sorry, we like our personal space),
We’re just buggy.
(Ooh, ooh ooh ooh oo-ooh ooh oo-ooh) we’re not bitey,
(Ooh, ooh ooh ooh oo-ooh ooh oo-ooh) we’re just mighty.
(Ooh, ooh ooh ooh oo-ooh ooh oo-ooh) don’t worry, we’re just spiders.
References to the original song ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy’ by Bobby McFerrin were approved by him.
A Lot (More) to be Thankful For . . .
Sitting down to write the sequel to Milton the Mighty was daunting at first, but turned out to be enormous fun. Not only could I return to my favourite eight-legged buddies, meet some new ones, and reimagine songs for the Spinnerettes, but also I got to work with my favourite people all over again. As ever, I am indebted to them for their support, knowledge, guidance and gifs.
Thank you, Chicken House, it’s truly an honour and I’m st
ill pinching myself even though we’re on book two.
Lauren, my stellar agent, I am so grateful for your support and for being Spider Warrior-in-Chief.
Group-hug gifs go out to The Web People. Spider silk is stronger than steel and so are we.
And too many other amazing writing friends to mention by name (Emma A, Swaggers gonna Swag, WriteMentor, SCBWI, Bath Novel Award . . .)
It’s been a privilege to be involved with Bath Libraries (and spend time with wonderful librarians, especially Louise Judge), BOAMBF, Bath Children’s Literature Festival, Bristol Storytale Festival and some incredible indie bookshops: Mr B’s Emporium, Storysmith, Tales on Moon Lane and Max Minerva’s. Thank you also to Buglife and BAS for their support. Join the Bug Club at: www.amentsoc.org/bug-club/
I’d like to raise a glass of ladybird juice to all the people volunteering at Community Libraries across the country, and also to Stuart White – people who give back to the world in a most wonderfully bookish way.
Thank you to all the readers – Spider Warriors all, to my Spiderlings for not being embarrassed of me (yet) and to James for pretty much everything.
Published by Scholastic Australia Pty Ltd
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First edition published by Chicken House, 2020.
This electronic edition published by Scholastic Australia Pty Ltd, 2020
E-PUB/MOBI eISBN: 978-1-76097-633-0
Text © Emma Read 2020
Cover illustration © Alex G. Griffiths 2020
Interior illustrations © Lisa Reed 2020
Cover and interior design by Helen Crawford-White
Cover illustrations by Alex G. Griffiths
Interior illustrations by Lisa Reed, in the style of Alex G. Griffiths
