Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid

Introduction

Fear: A feeling of agitation and anxiety caused by the presence or imminence of danger; a feeling of disquiet or apprehension.

As a little girl there weren’t many things in life that I claimed to be terrified of. I even provided a home for many small creeping things, the very bottom drawer in my tall brown dresser. It was always confusing to me, however, that I could put a water snake and a couple of frogs in one day and the next have none. I would spend the next couple of days searching the hallways and rooms just down from my bedroom in the basement hoping and praying that I would find my liberated little friends before I heard the dreaded war cry from my mom that always started with an accelerating “Tresa!”

I never considered myself prejudice when it came to the small and unfortunate critters that I would take into my care, or lack thereof. If I could catch them I would and then proceed to conceal them away in a pocket or two for the always challenging flight past mom to their new hostel.

Nonetheless, there were those select few that never made it into my keeping if I had any choice in the matter, those of the eight-legged kind. Arachnids, even the name does not carry any good will. I have never appreciated their creepiness I suppose. I don’t know exactly when my anxiety started. I do have a memory of me as a young girl, sitting outside by an old white car of ours. It had been abducted from a grocery store parking lot, recovered in less than mint condition from a remote ditch, and then laid to rest behind our house as in what appeared to be a shrine. My dad loved that car and I’m not sure he was ready to part with it. So there it sat, collecting weeds, dust and a few too many spiders.

I quietly perched on a log positioned near the passenger-side door, head in my hands, observing the tedious lacework being laid out before me by a large, but nonetheless disturbing, cat-face spider. I stared at this small spinner, who seemed oblivious to me and my observations, and noticed the strange markings he carried upon his back. Upon further review, they seemed to have a slight resemblance to a face, one that lay comfortably attached to his back as if cloud-gazing while he worked.

Perhaps it was at this point my apprehension towards the little monsters was born. As insignificant and harmless this little being appeared, there was something more to him. It occurred to me then and there that not only was this creation alive, but he appeared to have some form of an agenda. I wondered, “what if Mr. Spider had a list of chores to get done from Mrs. Spider?” “What if what appeared to me as simple web-spinning was in fact cleaning the kitchen or setting the table?” “What if, I thought I was watching him, but in reality, he was watching me? Was I a part of his agenda?”

I have since, thankfully, outgrown a bit of my illogical thinking from long ago. Despite that fact, I do hold true to the notion that there aren’t many things that terrify me. I do realize that spiders, with their beady little cluster of eyes and their uncanny ability to sneak up on me unexpectedly to this day, are by far and away a lot smaller than I am and therefore my phobia of them may have been a bit exaggerated.

However, it appears that any misgivings I may have had towards them quite possibly have been replaced by that of three, not entirely as creepy, yet still extremely sneaky, little boys in my life. Terrified may be a strong word, but there is a significant amount of fearfulness associated. But the wisdom that I have acquired over the years instructs, “I can’t let them smell it!”

Being raised with four sisters, I believe that I may have underestimated the force of a young energetic boy. Why would a person fear their own adorably-innocent child you may ask? I have wondered this very question myself. To that end, I have paid particular attention to these three half-grown tykes placed in my charge for some revelation to that daunting mystery. Over the course of my short investigation, it has become apparent to me that I have good reason to be afraid, in fact, I should be very afraid.

To be continued…