Bugs 5

“Omigod, omigod, omigod!” the spider shrieked, “He’s fallen into the water!”

“What’s that?” said the old daddy longlegs.

“He’s fallen into the water! We were talking just now, a regular conversation, and he just fell right in.”

“Let’s see about this, no need to jump to conclusions,” the daddy longlegs said equanimously, stalling for time as he sorted his thoughts.

“Now where, exactly, did you say he was?”

“Down there!” she indicated below with one of her many legs. A third spider drifted helplessly on his back in a pool of pristine, transparent water.

“I, I don’t see any imperiled souls, no not – wha – ah, hmm – you say that floating bit of debris is him?”

“Yes, yes” the spider answered excitedly.

“He seems to be keeping afloat. If that is indeed him. Are you sure he didn’t just nip away for something?”

“We were just speaking – right here – he was saying something wonderful, something eloquent and then – poof – the next moment he was gone!”

“Unnerving, certainly,” the daddy longlegs agreed.

“What are we going to do?” the spider pleaded desperately.

“We? Ah, well what can we do? The chap has decided to go it alone – yes yes his fate is his own now. I wish him the best.”

“No, no – look! Look how he struggles.” Sure enough, the spider was wiggling about his legs, creating a small disturbance of ripples across the otherwise placid surface.

“Is he – is he jiggling about?” the daddy longlegs asked.

“Yes, he’s completely stuck.”

“Oh, no, no that can’t do him any good – surface tension, you know. Thrashing will only undermine his buoyancy – should only be a matter of time before he slips under.”

“Oh, no!” said the spider. “No! Stop moving!” she shouted.

The spider evidently heard, for he ceased his agitations.

“We’ve got to get him out!”

“Oh, ho ho,” the daddy longlegs laughed heartily. “Let me tell you a story.”

“A story! He’s drowning down there – there’s no time for a story.”

“No time? Why, my dear, there is too much time – it could take him a good hour to finally kick it and, frankly, all of this wailing and wringing of feet isn’t good for my blood pressure.”

“Your blood pressure!? What about him?”

“Well, honestly, I think his blood pressure is the least of his worries. Come now, I think it’s time we were realistic about this, there is nothing that can be done for him. I’ve seen this a hundred times – the sides are steep and slick, the bottom deep and beckoning. All he can do is wait, and hope he sinks.”

“Hope he sinks! Why would he do that?”

“Because if he doesn’t, they will find him and that’s never pleasant.

“They – who are they?”

“Never you mind that, sweetheart. So tell me, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“My plans? My plans! I’ve got a whole spider-sized meal to find to tide me over while I lay all of these damn eggs!”
”Oh – oh, you’ve got eggs have you?”

“Yes!”

“And he was the father.”

“Yes!”

“And soon to be your lunch.”

“Yes!”

“Well, that is a tragedy.”