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On the Street Where I Live
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Too many spiders. Tiny, black, creeping spiders tucked into corners. Crawling along the seams where the carpet meets the walls. Hiding. Under the sofa. Inside the lampshades. Hiding in the front room, the closets, the bedroom. Furry-legged, black spiders. White, hairless spiders. Spiders everywhere. Even though she used bleach and disinfectants that smelled of pine and spring. Even though she filled all her spaces with new and expensive things.
Her Cedric was wildly passionate for new and expensive things. Even as a toddler his shoes could not be Buster Brown.
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"Too much, Theda. You give that boy too damn much."
"Oh, Deidre," she said, her smile sympathizing with her friend's motherlessness. "You can't give a child too
much."
"Sweetie, you can't love a child too much. Will you ever stop confusing the two? Cedric is so full of every and anything he wants, he's liable to up and explode. Just blow the hell up right in your
face."
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Deidre did not understand. She said things like damn and shit but underneath the worldly skin she wore so arrogantly, Theda knew Deidre was just another rich girl maytending. That's what Theda and Silkianne called it when they were kids. When they played double dutch and sang wish I may/wish I might. Theda wished then she was someone else. Someone who didn't have to stand lookout for the landlord's wife or sit on the front stoop and hold her hungry belly while waiting for the mailman. Deidre could not possibly know what it was like to have a belly full of empty pinching her insides.
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Frank did not understand either. |
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"I can't handle this anymore, Theda."
"Frank, if we tried counseling ..."
"Counseling didn't help before."
"It will be different, Frank..."
"No, Theda. It won't be different. It will all be the same as the last time and the time before that. I'll talk and the shrink will talk and you will go through the motions but when it's over, you'll go back to your office and your one hundred plus things to do and you will pretend that everything is fine. Well, I can't do it anymore, Theda. I can't make this marriage work alone."
"But, Frank..."
"Goodbye, Theda." |
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When Frank left, Theda found spiders in his sock drawer. Tiny brown spiders crawling around the bottom. One crawled onto her hand. She squeezed
until it was dead. Frank was gone but she still had Cedric. Laughing, beautiful, loving Cedric.
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"Ma... it's me. I've been busted, Ma."
"Busted? Cedric, what does ... "
"Busted, Ma," he said flatly, knowing where she was headed and cutting her off.
"You know ... like on COPS?"
He paused allowing his words to weight the silence then gravely said, "I sold some rocks, Ma. Crack cocaine. To an undercover."
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Suddenly, the floor was gone from beneath her feet. She was falling, fast and furious as a spent star leaving burned out chunks of herself, cold and lifeless in the ebony stillness...
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"I'm sorry, Ma," he whispered.
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...the dark wrapped itself around her. It pressed and squeezed until she shattered, soundless and utterly, into a thousand pieces.
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"Ma? I'm scared."
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Gathering the fragmented pieces of her self, she wordlessly called out to her mother's Jesus. As usual, Jesus did not answer. So, instead, she straightened her back straightened and, with borrowed conviction, said to her only son,
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"I'm here for you, son. Mother is here."
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She didn't cry. She never cried. Not when Frank left her. Not when her mother died leaving her and Silkianne on their own. Not when Silkianne got drunk and rats chewed a hole in her face. Not when the doctors removed the bandages and found a spider sac filled with tiny baby spiders waiting to hatch. |
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Theda borrowed money from Deidre to post the bond. Post the bond. It sounded like something she had to remember like take the cat out or see your dentist twice regularly. In the third row center of the small courtroom, she looked straight ahead. Her breathing was shallow as a dozen young men were led into court. Bound with chains on their ankles and wrists, they were shackled one to the other and shuffled into their designated rows at the front of the courtroom. Noiseless but for the clanging of chains and feet slushing across the polished tile floor. Her son was the second boy in line and so sat farthest away from her but she could see he was unwashed. His clothes
wrinkled. His hair matted and wild. So unlike her tidy baby boy who loved creased slacks and painted
ties. She moved her eyes to his face where their eyes met and his terror startled her, leaping instantly into her
throat where it became a leaden, heavy, grotesque thing that swelled her heart and oppressed her so fiercely, her
knees buckled and she crumpled to the floor.
A second mortgage paid the attorney but the root as her Aunt Botchie used to say, dug deep. Cedric's tuition had not been paid. Cedric's dorm bill was overdue. Cedric's car payments were behind and all her savings were gone. Vanished. Poof.
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"I swear, Ma, I don't know what happened to the money. I spent it on junk, you know, CD's and video games, friends. I bought a jacket... and that expensive perfume for you and, aww, Ma, I don't know what else!"
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"Cedric, you bought $3,000 worth of junk?" she asked, incredulous. "Three thousand dollars?"
"What do you want me to say, Ma? I said I was sorry, didn't I?
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"Ma, you're the reason I had to sell the stupid drugs! This is all your fault! I only did it so I could pay back your stupid money!..."
"But, Cedric... baby," she hesitated, trying to calm him but afraid of what he might say. Afraid to hear the truth. But, she knew if she was going to help him, she had to know. She had to know the truth. "Cedric ... are you using drugs?" ... Because I can help you, baby... there are programs, facilities ...
"Come on, Ma!" he interrupted her, "get real! Drugs are for chumps," he said spitefully. "And, I'm no chump! I sold drugs, Ma. I never used drugs. Never. Big difference, man. Big difference."
"Sweetheart, I understand," she said, "... and, I want to believe you baby, but, Cedric ...so much money. If you aren't using drugs, why did you take the money in the first place? Why...?"
Cedric slammed his fist onto the table. He jumped up, exploded. "Dammit, Ma! Would you just leave it alone, please?! Jesus christ! Why can't you just leave stuff alone?! Geez!"
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The attorney was efficient and she appreciated, too, that he made no effort to whitewash the matter. The sale of crack cocaine was a serious offense but he assured her he could get Cedric into a program for first offenders. Cedric was in college, after all, and had sold only a small amount of the drug. A very small amount.
The fine was $2500. The state was to erase all record of Cedric's little indiscretion in two years. Provided Cedric cooperate and stay clean. 'Stay clean' the attorney had said as if her Cedric was prone to play in the dirt.
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"Theda, that boy needs to get a job."
"Oh, Deidre," she replied, "he will. But he needs time to adjust."
"Time my ass," Deidre retorted, "It's time he started doing something for himself."
"He's in school, Deidre, that is something for himself. Please consider what he has been
through. Think of how he must feel. And, he does carry a full class load, Deidre. A full
load. Where would he find the time for a job?"
"Time?!" Deidre lifted her perfectly shaped eyebrows mocking indignation. "Where would he find time?
You found time when you were in school. I found time, Theda, and my old man was rolling in dough. Every
damn body I know found time for a job to get them through school." Deidre sucked her teeth. "Time for a
job. Girl, please. Why do you parents today think everything should be handed to your kids on silver
and gold master cards? That's the trouble with these damn kids... "
"Deidre, Dr. Melvin says Cedric is rebelling. All young people go through this. Cedric needs to find
himself. Find out what he stands for, rediscover his values. Dr. Melvin says..."
"Honey, I say that boy needs to get a job and help you pay some of those damn bills his spoiled ass made while he was
out there finding himself. Especially if you don't want to find him back on those corners pushing that shit. That's what I say.
"Theda... Theda? Are you listening to me?"
Theda pushed the wilted lettuce and steamed chicken back and forth on her plate. She really should not take
such extended lunch hours, she thought. She always had to work late to make up for the time lost.
"Theda?"
Theda put her fork on the table and pushed her plate away.
"Theda, I'm talking to you."
Theda clasped her hands tightly to her lap. She tasted blood and realized she had bitten the inside of her lip. Her blood tasted salty. She wondered if it was because of the steamed chicken or the peanut sauce. No matter. She knew she would never order either again.
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Theda habitually put in long hours at the office managing projects, balancing resources, juggling numbers. In her white walled cubicle, she knew exactly what to expect of the company and the company knew what to expect of her. Before the rumors started. Before she was caught in the web of corporate downsizing.
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"These are your choices." Theda's boss pointed to a three circled chart, one of which, contained her future. "You can take the buyout plan. A more than decent package, certainly better than is currently being offered by other companies in similar situations. Or, you can take early retirement provided you are eligible.
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"Unfortunately, most of you are not eligible so you might want to consider the permanent job offer in Newton Falls, Iowa. If you decide on the latter," he went on, jabbing his pointer at the number three circle, "the company will, of
course, pay all your moving and relocation expenses."
He dragged the pointer to circle number one stressing, Theda supposed, the importance of the number one circle
decision.
"If you choose the buyout, there will be no pension plan, no medical, and no dental. Cash only ... in the
amount of one week's pay for every year's service. For those of you who are eligible for early retirement," he
said, stabbing the Early Retirement circle, "the cash plan is the same but your pension will be intact. And," he
went on, drawing an imaginary underscore, "medical and dental will continue to be offered to you at reasonable
company rates."
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Cedric reassured her. Earnestly.
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"Look, Ma. I'll be fine. Really. I just can't see myself living in Podunk, Idaho."
"Newton Falls, Iowa, Cedric."
"Whatever," he said, his boy-smile crooked into an infectious grin. "Seriously, Ma. I don't
want to leave my friends. And you don't want me to finish from a State U, do you? Not after all the
money we've spent. Besides, I have a plan. Remember Chalmers? Well, his roommate bugged on him
and we're thinking I should be his new roomie."
"But you don't have a job, Cedric, and I can't afford..."
"I'll get a job, Ma. I promise. You only have to pay for a couple of months. Come on, Ma. I
need a break, okay? Gimme a chance, you'll see."
Of course, she had relented. And, she was actually surprised when Chalmers phoned.
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"Miss Theda," Chalmers said, "I hate to be the one to tell you this but ... well, ma'am, Cedric is back on the pipe
and it's worse than before. He even stole from me. Took my best stuff, too. My t.v. ... my
laptop. I didn't call the police but, well, his parole officer is looking for him. I just wanted you
to know he can't come back here. I'm sorry, Miss Theda. I really am."
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Theda put caulking down along the edges of the sliding glass doors, along the window ledges and in the corners of all the rooms to keep the spiders out but eventually they ate their way through. Spiders are industrious. She heard them all the time. Pop, pop. Popping out of tiny holes in the wall. Skittering across the carpet. Tenuously hanging from long, silvery threads on the ceiling.
In her dreams, the spiders crawl into her bed and cover her body with their creepy spidery legs. They bore spider holes inside her. Their tiny spider jaws and tiny spider pinchers chew and gnaw her insides. They lay their silvery sacs of spider eggs under her skin. She itches in her sleep and scratches. On the front of her knees. On the back of her hands. On her forearms and underneath her breasts. From open sores, spiderlings hatch. A thousand baby spiders crawl out of her pores.
The extermination companies all told her the same thing.
"Too damn many."
"Reckon they come from the marshes."
"Get yourself a good bug spray, ma'am, but it won't help none 'cause this here is spider country and they just keep coming.
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