Black Widow

Wednesday. I know it was Wednesday because it was a day I won’t soon forget. Actually, it started on Saturday, but Wednesday, that was the main event. Let me take you back to the beginning so that you can understand the full impact of this moment.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning, so beautiful, in fact, that my wife suggested we go out for breakfast. After enjoying a very satisfying meal, we returned home. I pressed the button on the remote and the garage door opened. The car fit perfectly into its place and we all got out. I should have noticed her lurking in the corner sooner, but I didn’t. Our garage is more than just a spot to park the cars, it is also a play area for our kids, so we take great pride in making sure it is a safe place. That’s why I should have noticed her sooner.

She caught my eye as I walked around the front of the car to open the door for the kids. I don’t know what made me look, but for a moment, there we stood, eye to eye. Her web had been spun inside the leaf blower where she patiently watched for her prey to enter the trap.

The red markings on her belly betrayed her sordid past. She was a ruthless killer. Her husband, no doubt devoured, his carcass digesting within her asymmetrical figure. “You’re not welcome in these parts,” I said to the black widow as I drew my weapon. With my foot raised eight inches off the ground, cocked and ready to fire, I took careful aim. She was a coward. I had called her out, yet she remained tucked safely within the confines of a leaf blower between the trigger and the gas tank. She knew my foot would never fit into that gap.

Her cowardice revealed her true identity. She was no black widow. She was nothing more than a yellow widow and I didn’t care. “You will be mine,” I said. “Oh yes, you will be mine.” This time I pulled a short piece of one by four lumber from the scrap wood pile. I aimed its narrow edge at her head and let it fly. She scurried deeper within the confines of her Coward Cave, just missing the projectile that soared past her thorax. (That’s a part of a spider, right?)

“Honey, get the kids in the house,” I commanded. “This might get ugly.” This beast had no right to live in my garage and I wanted blood. I looked around for anything that might be used as a weapon against her. My eye settled on the air compressor. Seconds later, it roared to life. I fit the hose with the narrowest nozzle and tested the pressure. There was no way she could resist such a force. Taking careful aim, I let the air fly deep inside the Coward Cave. The compressor huffed and puffed, but still couldn’t blow her house down. That was okay. I could wait. She’d have to come out to eat at some point. But she was not welcome to wait in my garage. Carefully picking up the leaf blower, I moved it into the backyard. We’d play the waiting game there, where she wouldn’t have a chance to hurt my family.

Sunday morning. She was still hidden. Sunday afternoon. She was getting hungry. Her head peeked out, but I still didn’t have a clear shot. Monday night. She was out. I took a shot, but missed. She’s pretty fast for a girl. (You will never believe this, but a spider just crawled across my shoulder as I was typing. He’s dead. Now back to our story.) Tuesday night. Looks like rain. I looked at the sky and then down at my leaf blower. I couldn’t leave it in the rain, but I couldn’t let her back inside the garage. I looked back up. A drop landed on the ground. Against my better judgement, I picked up the blower and put it back inside the safety of the garage. There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy for the spider in that gesture. It’s just that a real man never leaves power tools in the rain.

Wednesday night. The blower is still in the garage, no sign of rain. Time to escort our lady friend back outside. I approach carefully, scanning the machine for any sign of her ugly head. She must have grown cocky in the warm environs of the garage because, to my surprise, she was in plain view, nowhere near the Coward Cave. I raised my foot, feeling much like Daniel-San in the climactic scene of The Karate Kid. I cleared my mind and focused on one thing, and one thing only - victory. This was my moment. I would defeat her and the garage would once again become a safe place for my children to grow and play.

As I stood, poised to kill, she saw me. Our eyes locked just as they had the first time we met. “You will be mine,” I said. “Oh yes, you will be mine.” And my foot lunged forward and down. A moment of chaos ensued as my shoe cut through the web. In the follow-through it contacted the bucket of dog food, sending kibble flying. Regaining my balance, I pulled my foot out of the mess and peered at the underside. There in a smashed up little ball of black and ooze, was my nemesis - dead. I had won. Peace was restored.