Bonjour twitter friends and WordPress readers! I’ve been away too long! Sometimes life gets too much and the depression sets in. With that said, I’m back and feeling better.
I have a gift for you. Today I’m sharing a short story I recently finished. This is about a 10 min read, roughly 3000 words. Nothing profound, but hopefully it will make you laugh and feel a little better. It made me feel better to write it. Please leave me feedback if you’d like, I will be making my blog a priority from now on, so I will respond promptly. Thank you so much for your kind comments both here and on Twitter. I’ve been lining up some old flash fiction and more short stories I have written in the past to share with you over the next several days, so please come back and visit soon. Hope you enjoy the story.
THE INVASION
Copyright 2018 by Melodi Joy aka Mellow D
By MJ Ford 2018
Henry stared at the wet, stinky black mess as he stood in the in the pouring rain, shivering. He felt much older than thirty, yet he felt helpless, like a small confused child. Darkness had turned the cool May day into a cold night. He’d had a cup of coffee thanks to the volunteer who showed up, but that was an hour ago.
Sally, a warm, kind, butch woman in her 50s, had also left a pile of necessities on the porch, undamaged, before she left twenty minutes ago. The last fire truck flashed red lights silently as it roared off. Henry watched the red flashes fade to a haze, turned and slunk onto the porch of his house, out of the rain. He flipped the plastic chair which had been knocked over back onto it’s legs and collapsed into it with a soft groan. He closed his eyes and revisited the events of what had started out as a normal day.
It was cool as he made his breakfast but he had the windows open anyway. The fresh air smelled like spring, and he could hear the birds celebrating as he sat in the simple kitchen of the small house he’d bought a year ago, drinking coffee and eating a microwaved sausage biscuit. He lived alone. He never could keep a girlfriend. He preferred his own company most of the time.
The day at the shop had been brutal. His first job had a problem he hadn’t seen before. Then he cut his arm on a bolt trying to get underneath the manifold. The boss had been running around getting in the way, bitching and moaning about how long the cars were in the bays. They’d had all three filled up with the same cars all day and Henry’s was still in progress when they closed it up at 5:30.
Shitty, but not a huge deal, it happens. He’d been working on cars at that shop for ten years now and he felt pretty confident he’d remain employed.
His mood didn’t suffer too much, the cut was bandaged and no longer stinging, so he’d had a beer with the guys, then stopped by the grocery on his way home to his little vinyl sided place just outside of town.
He parked his truck in the driveway and headed inside through the kitchen door at the back, carrying two bags of groceries he’d picked up. The sun was getting low. It had clouded up and was starting to rain. After transferring the frozen food from the bag to the freezer, he picked out a big pasta entree, peeled the lid back and stuck it in the microwave to cook while he put away the other bag of groceries. He was holding a can coffee when he saw a movement in the corner just under the cabinet. He froze.
Henry didn’t like animals, and he especially didn’t like bugs. He couldn’t tell what that thing was, a huge bug? Or had it been a mouse? It had run behind the toaster oven before he could get a good look at it. Dammit, no, it couldn’t have been a mouse, it was running down the wall. A mouse can’t do that can it? But what the hell kind of insect? One of those huge cockroaches? Do we even have those here? I’ve never seen one of those here. What the hell was that? So went his thoughts.
Holding the can of coffee like a weapon, he reached over and moved the toaster oven, peering behind it. Nothing. Nothing behind the toaster on the wall. He pushed the toaster back into position and turned to put away the coffee. After putting everything away he kept his eye on things around the toaster oven as he got a beer and a can of cheese out of the fridge, placing them on the table.
He went in and took a shower, washing off almost all the black grime, he scrubbed his hands a long time with lava boy, enjoying the feel of warm water on his backside while he did it, but of course he couldn’t get it all off. He pulled on his favorite flannel pants and pulled on his favorite orange sweatshirt, pulling the hood up over his damp hair as he headed back into the kitchen to get his first dinner box out.
There was something on the counter. Next to the toaster oven. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as he forced himself to move closer. It was black, and the size of a small avocado. He crept closer, heart pounding even faster as he realized it was a spider. It had something on its back. Eggs? What the hell was that? As he got close enough to swat the thing, it flashed across the counter and down, out of sight, into the crevice between the cabinet and the wall behind the refrigerator.
He resisted the urge to run out of the kitchen door, screaming. He could feel blood pounding rhythmically in his ears, breathing softly so as to make no noise. He thought of calling an exterminator, but didn’t think anyone in town did that. He’d have to get somebody over from Jackson and that was an hour away. No way in hell anyone would do that this late. Well, they would but he didn’t have the money to fund that.
He really wanted to eat his pasta. He could smell it and his mouth was watering. But he dared not take his eyes off the area where he last saw the spider. He stared at the crevice and the gap behind the fridge, thoughts of masses of spiders pouring out from under and around the appliance.
Hunger finally won and he rationalized that he was a grown man. Besides, the spider was on the other side of the kitchen from the microwave where his food was. Pulling a plastic fork out of the takeout drawer and sprinkling on some cheesy flakes, he stood and stared at the refrigerator crevice as he ate his pasta out of the box, renewing his energy for the battle ahead.
As he chewed, he inventoried the tools he had available to kill the spider. Fly swatter, that was on top of the fridge, too short, too flimsy, too small for the huge thing anyway. Broom, in the corner of the pantry, might work. Insecticide spray; would that work on spiders? Spiders have more legs than insects. Still, worth a try, Henry thought.
He briefly considered the small 22 caliber pistol he kept in the bedroom nightstand, but dismissed the thought; he’d wind up shooting holes in his house and that would be expensive. Would the thing try to crawl up his pants or into his hair? He realized the boxed meal was empty and sat it on the kitchen table. The trash can was over by the fridge, too close to the spider.
He went to the bedroom to find clean socks, opening the nightstand and holding the pistol for a few contemplative seconds, then putting it back in the drawer. He sat down on the bed, pulling on socks and tucking in the pants.
He grabbed his hiking boots and laced them up, still scouting around the room for possible tools, eyes settling on an orange aluminum baseball bat in the corner. He stood up and looked himself in the eyes reflected in the mirror over the dresser as he pulled the drawstring at his throat up and tied it snugly around his chin, tucking his short beard inside. He nodded at himself, mustering the courage to take on this fast, hairy, terrifying invader; assuring himself he could survive this battle.
“I am scary as fuck. Spider, you are toast now.” He said out loud to himself. He grabbed the remote off the bed and put the tv on for some noise. Wheel of Fortune was on. He walked toward the kitchen to the sound of canned applause.
Broom and baseball bat in hand, he peered around the refrigerator sides, pushing the broom as far as it would go into the gaps at the sides and underneath. Ineffective, the broom was too fat to get into it beyond a few inches of plastic straw.
He stretched up and checked the top of the fridge carefully, taking everything down, inspecting it and putting it on the the table, as his heart pounded. Nothing, no spider. He traded the broom for the fly swat and carefully slid the thin metal and plastic down into the crevice between the cabinet and the fridge. He couldn’t get all the way to the back, the flyswatter was too short.
He stepped back and, checking the floor all around him, he carefully set the flyswatter and baseball bat down on the floor, grabbed a flashlight off the table and peered under the fridge. He couldn’t see anything there so he stood up, pocketed the flashlight, spread his arms on either side of the fridge and pulled it back. Struggling, he managed to get it out about a foot from the wall and it stuck.
There was some sort of blockage on the floor. He pulled again and felt the weight of the fridge pressing against him and the contents shifting and rattling around as it almost fell over on top of him. Sharply exhaling, he got the big thing righted again and stopped pulling. He squatted down, hugged the appliance again and tried pulling the fridge from near the bottom, but it wouldn’t budge. He finally let go too quickly, he leaned back, lost his balance and landed on his ass. Henry panicked for a second and looked around wildly for the spider as he scrambled back onto his feet.
Peering into the gap he’d created behind the fridge, he was shocked by the spider webs along the wall. He got his flashlight out and after carefully checking the countertop, he leaned over and shined his light into the crevice behind the appliance. It was in the corner. Some kind of spider and it was huge, blackish-brown and hairy. The back of the thing was covered in some sort of bubbles or foam. What the hell?
Spider eggs, was the only thing he could think of. His heart was pounding in his ears and he looked away from the horror long enough to see the front of his sweatshirt moving slightly with each thump. He steadied his breathing, fearful he might actually have a heart attack.
The spider was just sitting there with it’s head full of black eyes, long hairy legs poised, staring at him. He wanted to run, to cry. He seriously thought about the pistol. No, the noise would bring the neighbors, he couldn’t use it, it would leave a hole in the floor and he might miss the damn thing anyway. He couldn’t get the broom wedged into the spot, the upper cabinet and wall were positioned so he couldn’t get the broom maneuvered in behind there to squish it. The baseball bat wasn’t nearly long enough.
He mentally ran through his short mental list of friends, wondering if there was anyone he could call. No one. The guys at the shop would never let him hear the end of it. He went over to the pantry and got the can of insecticide spray. It was empty.
He sighed a deep sigh and threw it in the trashcan after flashing his light into the corner to make sure the monster was still there. It was. He thought for a moment he was going to hyperventilate, again he steadied his breathing.
The sun was going down now and he turned on all the kitchen lights. He worried this thing was going to crawl under the fridge and disappear. He wondered if he could just move out and live in a hotel until he could sell his house. Bah that will never work, nothing sells in this town.
He stared at the ugly arachnid and her spawn, feeling helpless.
Then, hope arrived as an idea came.
“Yes! You motherfucker I know exactly how to get rid of your hairy ass. Come in here and take over my kitchen. Fuck that! I know how to kill you now.”
Henry smiled as he pointed his light at the vile thing, “You stay right there, you little bastard. I’ll be back,” he said in his best Terminator voice.
He jogged out the front door to his truck and opened up his tool box on the bed. Pulled out his acetylene torch, gave it a shake. Ah yes, it was full. He grinned slowly, opened up the truck door, got a white bic lighter out of the glove box. He almost went back in through the back door, but the proximity to the spider and the refrigerator made him pause. He turned and tore back around front, to the front porch, nearly tripping and knocking over his green plastic chair. He rushed back into the kitchen and peered over into the void. Spider was still there.
“Time for some seared spider!” he yelled as he launched himself up onto the counter, nearly falling into the crevice and knocking over the fridge, panicking again at the near disaster of being wedged helplessly in behind the fridge in the small space with the spider.
Regaining his balance, he stared at the spider and tried once again to slow the racing of his heart, swallowing down the vomit that had almost come up in the commotion.
Finally calm and stable again, he held the torch up, cranked the thumb screw and lit it. He adjusted the blue then yellow flame out as far as he could get it to go. He laid down on his stomach on the counter and balanced as much of his body into the tiny space as he could and pointed the flame at the spider.
“Yes! Die motherfucker!! Die you hairy bitch!”
And the flame from the torch paralyzed the egg bearing arachnid. He watched it’s legs and hair sizzle and curl up, and finally nothing was left but a crispy looking black lump. Coughing suddenly he looked up from the blackened corner of the floor where the spider was now a clump of ooze. The wall behind the refrigerator was burning, he hadn’t noticed the wall catch on fire. “Oh God!”
He scrambled down off the counter top and frantically turned off the torch, reaching around to the sink, grabbing the spray nozzle, turning the water on full blast. The water spray wouldn’t reach the fire and now both walls were flaming energetically, it was also catching along the wall of the cabinets. The refrigerator started making weird popping sounds and sparks flew out from the electrical cord as it melted away, dripping down.
“Oh shit!” He grabbed a plastic cup out of the cabinet next to the sink and filled it with water, throwing it on the fire, the fire sizzled and carried on unrelenting, moving now to the ceiling. The heat and smoke were beginning to fill the kitchen. The fire was making a roaring sound now.
Henry retrieved his phone off the table and called 911.
By the time the fire department arrived, Henry had wet down as much of the kitchen as he could reach with the kitchen spray, but the whole kitchen, most of the back roof and back door was a loss. The vinyl siding on the back of the house was a melted mess of warped, gooey looking plastic.
He sat in the chair on the front porch in the cool, wet, darkness of the spring evening, poking at the tarps and duct tape Sally had left for him. He considered the best way to tarp off the house against the rain. He’d call the insurance company tomorrow.
“Man this is gonna raise my fucking premiums. Fuck they probably won’t even pay for it”, he ran his hands through his hair, pushing the hood back with irritation. He scooped up the heavy donated pile and headed inside the dark, smoky smell of the house.
He’d have to spend the evening without power, he realized. He shivered, again fighting back a sensation of needing to vomit. An electrician Sally had recommended and called could come by tomorrow and secure the burned sections and then hopefully he could turn everything back on.
He considered packing a bag and spending the night at the little roadside motel up the road.
Henry unfolded the first tarp, spread it out, and shivered in the damp cold he now had to seal away from the surviving part of his house. As he noisily pulled off a length of duct tape, he said to his quiet house, “I shoulda shot the bastard. But at least its dead.”
-End THE INVASION copyright 2018 MelodiJoy aka Mellow D
Mellow Mayhem 