SUMMER CHILLER CONTESTANT
It was a creepy crawly for sure and it was hiding in the hole. Panic and shock evaporated an hour ago, about the time McPherson had found me.
“So I told Ol’ Joe he’d better put down his pitchfork and get on over here.” McPherson squatted over the barrel size hole. Sweat dripped off the tip of his long nose and fell into the abyss at his feet. “Rae Lynn will be here soon and I’ll have her make you some black coffee. Heck, son, you look like you need it.”
He looked over at me and all I could do was stare back. I thought it strange when the hole had appeared on the ranch a week ago. I’d asked Ol’ Joe about it. He’d given me his cankerous grin and said it wasn’t unusual in the south.
“Sam, you look like you’ve seen a real shocker. Thinking about it, I saw something that gave me a start last night. Something was running between your ranch and mine. I caught a glimpse of something white with long legs, tall as wheat stalks.”
I saw them too. Plus more.
“There’s mighty weird creatures here in the desert, a lot of creatures you wouldn’t see, wouldn’t even fathom up north. Roger, my oldest, studied them when we first moved here. He had a real fascination. I remember him telling me about Eysin. It’s the weirdest looking critter. It buries its eggs deep in the earth. Every ten years or so, they hatch, dig their way up to the surface all white and gushy like a grub worm, and they got these legs. So gosh darn long, like a creature from a nightmare – eight of ‘em like a dandy long legs. Strange eating habits too. That’s why I remember them so well.” He removed his bowed hat, scratched his head, then replaced it. He squinted up at me. Sweat trickled into my vision. I wanted to blink it away. My eyelids felt glued in place.
“They eat eyes, any kind of eyes. It don’t matter if the creature is alive or dead. It bites you first, numbs you up so you can’t move or speak. Then wraps you in its silk, pries your eyes open with its legs and well, you know. Strange creatures. Strange indeed…” His voice trailed off as he glanced down the hole again. He looked as if an idea had just occurred to him.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. In fact, I haven’t been able to find my voice since earlier in the morning when Lassie wouldn’t stop barking at what I had thought were coyotes. Where was Lassie?
“Son, you’re making me nervous. Cat catch your tongue?” He stood up and peered at me.
I looked at the hole, the darkness lurking within. Yes, yes, I suppose it had. Only it hadn’t been a cat.
McPherson picked up his shotgun and nodded towards the hole. “Something just gives me the willies. Glad I brought this along. I got your back covered for now, boy. Why don’t you find a shady spot to relax in.”
I glanced at the mesquite towering above the hole. Its long thorny branches swayed in the humid breeze. I wasn’t moving any closer to that hole, even if I could.
“I heard ya got a problem.” Ol’ Joe stepped around me and spat. His withered skin crinkled more as he studied me. “Well, now. Let’s take a look and see what ya got.” He stuck his pitchfork in the ground and bent over the hole.
“Yeah, it’s given Sam here quite a fright. I don’t blame him myself. I saw something strange last night. Some big spidery critter.” McPherson drew up a lawn chair. “Sit down, Sam. You’re lookin’ awfully pale.”
I remained standing.
“Here, I’ll help ya.” He gently pushed on my shoulders. I collapsed sideways into the chair. McPherson sat me upright.
Joe stood and pulled his pitchfork out of the earth. He walked over, bent down, and met my eyes. His face drew so close I thought he might kiss me. I smelled tobacco and cynicism on his breath. “Son, you and McPherson are full of it. I’ve got some work to do in my garden. Them weeds are full of sin and need some flippin’.”
“Joe, this isn’t a joke.” McPherson glanced at me nervously. “Something’s wrong with Sam. He hasn’t spoke or moved since I found him here, staring at that hole. I need to get him some help. Rae Lynn was gonna come, but she was talkin’ to her mama and you now how women are. I need you to stay until I get back.”
Sunlight reflected off the tip of the pitchfork. Ol’ Joe nodded. McPherson shoved the firearm into Joe’s other hand and hurried away. It didn’t bother me. Nothing bothered me now. I felt numb and tired. So very tired. My mind drifted in dark gray hues.
The sound of gunfire echoed through the desert as Ol’ Joe fired into the hole two, no three times, then threw the gun aside by the mesquite. He spat tobacco at my feet.
“See, Sam? If something is creepy crawling down there, it ain’t no more. Now, I got gardenin’ to attend too.” He picked up his pitchfork and gave me one last look. Cruelty glinted in Ol’ Joe’s eyes. “If ya don’t mind.” He turned and walked away.
I watched the hole. I hardly cared when I saw its spindly legs slip out. Fear and anxiety had long passed. Blissful numbness lulled my mind in its caress. A burst of white emerged. The world went dark. I couldn’t feel my arms, legs, or feet, but I knew I was being blanketed in silver, spun around and around. My thoughts fell as I heard the soft gnawing on my face…
©2009 Jodi MacArthur
Exiled in deep southern Texas, Jodi MacArthur is a Seattle author hoping to write her way back to the Pacific Northwest. In her spare time, she twitters at her beloved finches, Hitchcock and Emily, and drinks coffee - but never at the same time. Her work has been published at Six Sentences, 6sV2 Anthology, Absent Willow Review, Ray Gun Revival, Outsider Writers Collective and will be forthcoming in Harbinger*33 Anthology (Date TBA), and Yellow Mama (Oct & Dec ‘09). Website: www.jodimacarthur.blogspot.com
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September 14th, 2009 at 12:24 am
Wow. That last paragraph is the clincher!
September 14th, 2009 at 1:17 am
Thanks Lori!
September 14th, 2009 at 3:43 am
OOH!! Very Creepy - in the best possible way. Nice tempo here and great payoff…
September 14th, 2009 at 5:11 am
Yep, the real deal. Good dialogue and beautifully written.
September 14th, 2009 at 6:44 am
Blaaaaaahhh! I got cold shivers all over reading this. I love how you told this from the victim’s point of view. Damn, girl. You rock!
September 14th, 2009 at 7:33 am
Great story, Jodi! Loved the last line…
September 14th, 2009 at 9:53 am
I’m itchy all over. “spindly legs slip out” did it for me. Great story, Jodi. Um, I’m writing this with my eyes shut tight…
September 14th, 2009 at 1:31 pm
This was a great story, Jodi! I loved it!
September 14th, 2009 at 3:05 pm
This was a joy to read, such lively dialog and beautiful turns of phrase. I think I liked the creepy description of the life-cycle of the Eysin the best, that and Ol’ Joe saying his weeds were full of sin and needed flipping.
September 14th, 2009 at 3:58 pm
Damn that was a good story, gave me the shivers! I won’t be investigating any big holes anytime soon and I will blame you if I have nightmares about spiders eating my eyes tonight!
September 14th, 2009 at 7:34 pm
Thanks for reading everyone!
September 14th, 2009 at 7:41 pm
Um…bug spray anyone?
September 15th, 2009 at 10:25 am
OMG - Ol’Joe’s loose and lookin’ down all the scary holes that critter, scarier than a creature from a nightmare herself, herself, Jodi MacAUTHOR can scare up …
DAMN! I want to read more . . . but there’s something in my eye — OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
September 16th, 2009 at 11:19 pm
That would be one of my worst nightmares - Grandmother Spider! That last sentence horrific - and great character depth - I smelled tobacco and cynicism on his breath. .
I had no idea what was really going to come out of that hole until later, which fueled the suspense in this.
Nice work Jodi ~
September 20th, 2009 at 11:26 am
That was fantastic! Ultra creepy…loved it. Love the description and dialogue. You nailed it. Thank you!