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From Omar’s point of view

The conversation started as all the rest do. Kylynn had just turned off the light. She took a couple seconds to roll over in bed, situate herself, become comfortable. I listened to the grunts of her efforts for longer than what it might take for any other normal human to roll over in bed.

“I’m back, whew, ok, I’m ready, I can talk now that my body is laying right.” – Kylynn

“Ok. Are you sure? Is your hair arranged right on the pillow?” – Me

“Shut up, Omar.” – Kylynn

The conversation progressed this way for a time. We discussed our day, our excitement to see each other on the upcoming weekend. Suddenly the conversation took a turn.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Fuck. Omar!” – Kylynn (deadly serious).

The line didn’t go dead but I heard a slight rustle and then only silence. My heart raced and pounded with panic. Kylynn had died.

“This is what you get for jamming a shovel under the door handle and calling it a ‘lock’ Kylynn.” – Me (but silently to myself).

Then Kylynn came back, her voice breathless and full of fear.

“Omar, (gasp) I rolled over (pant) and felt something tickle my forehead (gasp) and it’s the biggest spider I’ve ever seen (breath) it’s so big (hyperventilate) it’s the size of my fucking hand! (Pant, pant, pant).” – Kylynn

“Trap it!” – Me

“How?! All I have is a cup and it won’t even fit over the body!” – Kylynn

“Kill it!” – Me

“I can’t kill it! I’m scared. It’s too big. I don’t want to get that close to it! I can’t sleep in here with that thing. It’s gonna bite me! I’m gonna die!” – Kylynn

Kylynn is prone to drama and often thinks she is going to die, therefore I wasn’t very concerned. But then, quite suddenly a scraping sound, shrieking, rustling!

“It moved, it moved! I lost it! I don’t know where he is! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do!” -Kylynn

“You have to find it and squash it or put it outside.” – Me (this was a stupid statement of mine. Put it outside? What was I thinking?).

 

Then I hear Kylynn begin to whisper, most likely more to herself than to me. Barely audible but I can hear her.

 

“I see him. I found him. I see you. Come to me. Come to me so I can kill you. Here he comes. He is coming. Slowly. I’m drawing him to me. I’m using all my man-attraction powers and drawing him to me, he’s coming. I’m beckoning to him with my mind. Oh he stopped coming. I can see you. Barely, but I can see your shadow.” – Kylynn

“Your what powers?” – Me

“I’m never going to be able to sleep with him in here, what am I going to do?” – Kylynn

“Squash it! You have to kill it then.” – Me

“How though?!” – Kylynn

I found this to be a stupid question.

“With your shoe! Your hand, your foot, your face!” – Me

“You don’t understand Omar, he is at a hard angle. I can’t get to him with a shoe.” – Kylynn

“What do you mean? Is he in a corner?” – Me

“He is on the wall, down near the floor. He is like two inches above the floor.” – Kylynn

I can hear Kylynn’s mind churning the way it does when she is trying really hard to think up a good comeback to yell at me when I make her mad.

“The shovel! The shovel that’s it!” – Kylynn (clearly proud of herself).

I find this particularly hilarious but try to stifle my laughter because I can tell that she is actually serious and intends on using a shovel to kill a spider.

“Yea, the shovel, that’ll be good. You can dig him to death. You know most people kill spiders with a Kleenex or something, and you are going to use a shovel . . .” – Me

She seemingly ignores my smart-ass comment. I imagine her retrieving the shovel. wielding it like a night from the fourteenth century in preparation to face an insurmountable foe.

“I’m getting the shovel right now. I have the shovel in my right hand. I’m going to kill him. Omar I have to put you down, ok? Ok Omar? I’m going to put you down because I am going to kill the spider now. Ok?” – Kylynn

“Ok, do you want to call me back after?” – Me

“No! I’m just going to rest you on the table, you just wait for me, ok?” – Kylynn (her voice is full of focus and determination).

“Ok. Ok, I will wait.” – Me

I can hear Kylynn’s voice, talking to herself, talking herself through the steps. I can’t hear the words she says. I can only imagine what they might be. And then quite suddenly my ear became punctuated with excitement. PING! I heard, a great PING! Shrieking, loud high pitched battle cries. Silence. PING! It must be the shovel hitting the cement wall, I figured. PING! PING! PING! Great shrieks between each PING!

“Did you get him?!” – Me (bellowing into the phone so maybe she could hear me above the racket).

“WHERE ARE YOU?! WHERE DID YOU GO?!” – Kylynn

She came back onto the phone out of breath and dejected sounding.

 

“I missed him. He got away. He was just so fast.” – Kylynn

“Well what are you going to do now?” – Me

“Sleep in my hammock I guess. I can’t stay in here with him. I could die.” – Kylynn

 

I talked to her as she gathered her blanket. Grumbling the whole way outside, situating herself in her hammock with grunts and sighs, which took even twice as long it did in her bed. We said our goodnights and I fell asleep picturing Kylynn stalking a tarantula with her shovel raised high.

The next morning I received a call from her.

“It was awful. The mosquitoes came for me at like 3 a.m., they were biting me through the material of my hammock! I had to wrap myself all the way in my blanket twice around and then pull my head inside to hide from them and I could still feel them bouncing off the blanket around my head trying to get me. I have so many bites this morning. I just can’t win. South America is winning. The bugs are winning.” – Kylynn

“So you were a mosquito burrito?” – Me

“Omar don’t try to be witty until you have a huge spider crawl on your forehead in the dark. Oh my God it was so big. It was like the size of my hand!” – Kylynn

“It must have been pretty small then . . .” – Me

 

The conversation ended here. Kylynn has a particular sensitivity about her size. Her height, her small hands and feet and teeth give her insecurity. My jokes weren’t received well. About ten minutes later I received a text from her. This is what it said:

“I’m still growing. I’m a little taller since I came to SA I think. And even if my hands are small, that’s still a big spider Omar!!”

This is an example of one of those really good comebacks that she tries really hard to think up . . .

 

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4 thoughts on “The Night of the Spider

  1. Hey Kylynn, I know your mom & dad from the store. Karen told me about your blog. Great stuff! It reminds me of Tim Cahill (“A Wolverine Is Eating My Leg”, “Pass the Butterworms”).

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