The Pumpkinseed Spiders
I don’t know how many years it’s been, maybe six or seven. Halloween was just around the corner and people were setting their pumpkins out on their front porches. Unfortunately for them, they did not foresee the fact that my friends and I were plotting a big pumpkin bash. For us, we were very much entertained as we smashed a car window or dented a hood with a hurled pumpkin. The sounds it would make were harsh and dramatic, and each banged in our ears like a musical instrument; a hollowed drum or symbols crashing together. It was sudden and comedic, especially if you were stoned off your ass. But, one night is all changed. It hit me as if I, myself, had been creamed by a smashing pumpkin. It was just as sudden, and the image had burned in my mind. When I closed my eyes, I could still see that thing standing there, looking at me. I was the only one who really saw the figure. The others were too busy laughing and wrestling in the back seat as we sped around the corner. I was the driver, and I just happened to glance in my rearview mirror and saw something that I was never, ever supposed to see. Or, perhaps it was something I was meant to see- a figure hiding among the midnight darkness. My smile faltered, and for that second my body grew cold. Not the kind of cold you felt when you’re outside in the winter night in your boxers, but the eerie chill you experience as if someone just walked over your grave. God, till this day I still have no idea what I really saw, but it scared me shitless. We ended our night with an easy target by slamming a pumpkin into the windshield of a parked car. Glass splashed everywhere like millions of tiny water drops, dancing in the black ocean pavement. The sweet, fine smoke of marijuana invaded my senses and it was like heaven. We were laughing and Kenny made some wisecrack about the smashed pumpkin and we laughed even harder. Before I could settle down, cotton mouth had come over me. The acrid taste was thick and dry. I needed a cold soda, but after seeing what I saw earlier, I didn’t think I could keep it down. I looked in the rearview mirror again, and all I saw was my face; pale-pink skin, brown eyes and black hair. I had a pimple on the corner of my lip and some pumpkin splatter on my shirt collar. Desperately, I wanted to change my shirt. I felt tainted somehow by this pumpkin splatter, like it wasn’t pumpkin splatter at all but human guts and eyeball gunk. There were five of us in my Honda, and only two of us were eighteen- me and Jason. Kenny was seventeen, and Sammy and Julie were sixteen. If anyone were to be busted, it would be Jason and I. There were times when I felt that Jason didn’t really care what we did. It was as if he had an empty void inside his heart. I believe that was what drove us forward with what we did nearly every night; Smashing pumpkins, drinking and acting like assholes. Hell, I was an asshole and I didn’t give a fuck. But, my mind kept turning back to that last pumpkin- the pumpkin that was spoiled to the touch down to its toxic seeds. Its spaghetti innards reeked with an odor, which screamed out in the night with a silent sorrow. Perhaps that pumpkin still possessed some sort of life that had gone sour by my touch. By our touch. I never said a word about this to anyone. I guess it was my secret to keep. I didn’t get back home till about three in the morning. I was still buzzing and softly laughing to myself. My parents were asleep, thank God. I couldn’t deal with their crap any longer. When I got into bed and closed my eyes, the images of what I saw came back to me. It was a man, and yet it wasn’t. It was impossible for me to describe it to myself back then, but now it’s so easy. So very easy as if some inner eye deep within myself had been opened. But, what I really saw wasn’t a man at all. "Spiders," he said to me without moving his lips. "Spiders." I fell asleep with that word in my head and dreamed of a silvery- white web. In the center of the web was a tall, golden castle. I could sense the castle was alive, that it was calling out for me from beyond some point in time. Who was to say it was supposed to be the future. It could have easily been from the past. Perhaps as well. The golden tower was made up of thousands of tiny gears and pistons, and they were moving in mechanical speed. I reached out for it, to touch it, but it was too far away as if I wasn’t a true part of that world. I felt like a child looking in at one of those snow bubbles that you shake upside-down and the snowflakes swarm all around in the water over a castle or Santa Claus or whatever. It intrigued me, and yet, it was frightening to watch. Those gears and pistons moved with perfect precision, and the web it sat on never once wavered. It was as if the web was up in some corner somewhere in someone’s office or attic, and it made me feel distant and alone. The next morning I pulled myself out of bed. My head was throbbing and my sight was far from clear, but that didn’t keep me away from my pot. I rolled up a joint, lit it, inhaled the sweet smoke and waited a second or two before I let it all out. Ahh, much better. Every morning I got high. Pot was my friend... the magical herb, and it seemed like these days it was my only true friend. The only thing in life I could rely on. Shortly after, I got a hold of Jason and Sammy on the phone. We were all meeting at Julie’s. A lot of us guys had an interest in her, mostly because of her reputation. I was mostly interested in her tits. One time this last summer, she dove into Kenny’s parent’s pool with just her panties and a white t-shirt. When she got out, I could just about see everything. Then she bounced inside the house for a change of clothes. I was speechless to say the least. I arrived at Julie’s that afternoon. Everyone was kicking back in the backyard, and when they heard my car pull up they climbed the fence and waved at me to come on back. Another friend was with them, Frank. He had two lit cigarettes in his mouth and a big cheesy grin on his face. I smiled up at him as I crossed the yard toward the fence. When I reached it, he started to make a really annoying sound that always made me bust up laughing. It sounded like a retard falling out of a wheelchair even though it wasn’t what he was purposely portraying. It’s just that, that’s what the sound had always reminded me of. It’s probably asshole of me to even think it’s funny, but nevertheless, it was! Frank looked down at me, took both cigarettes out of his mouth and asked, "So, are we gonna go pumpkin smashing tonight?" My laughter slowly quieted down. I looked up at him and said matter-of-factly, "Of course. You wanna come?" "Sure," he said. "I can take my car. Some of us can go in mine and the others can go in yours." My eyes widened, and I uttered, "Just think of the damage we’re gonna do, man. Holy shit." At that point I was more concerned about getting drunk and fucked up. I didn’t want to care about the dream anymore, or what I saw the other night. I climbed over the fence. Frank and I joined the others at the patio table. I sat down in the white, plastic chair, which was shaped as a clam, and leaned back in it. Kenny took out an eighth of weed, pulled some out and broke it apart on the table. The others and I looked at the small pile of buds as if they were the only things in the world that existed. Frank gave his other cigarette to Julie and they both finished them together. I had thought about smoking. Even tried it here and there, but I really didn’t have the stomach for it. Just made me feel ill. Weed on the other hand, well, what can I say? But, when I looked at the pile of broken down bud, something came over me. It was the same feeling I had the night before, when I looked into my review mirror and saw the stranger, standing there and looking at me. He called out to me. The Spiders. As if it was a warning. But, a warning for what? I blinked and looked back at the weed again. Kenny’s fingers worked over it and through it, breaking it down into itty, bitty pieces. Then, he slid it toward the edge of the table so he could get it all into the white zig-zag paper. And, I mean all of it. I looked at Sammy. He too was sitting there and staring at it. Then he took a drink of his Pepsi and peered over at me with an expression that said, ‘what are ya lookin’ at?’ I turned away and watched as Kenny finished rolling the joint. It looked big and pregnant as if it were some sort of cocoon, housing not a butterfly or a moth, but a spider. A big, fat hairy spider the size of my hand. I could feel its eyes peering at me through its layer of hemp skin. It wants to bite me... it wants to kill me and eat me alive. Spiders... spiders. Kenny rose the joint into the air to study its thickness and smiled proudly. I, however, kept my focus on the marijuana seeds on the table and my skin crawled. A voice spoke in my head- You know you can grow more spiders with those babies. Grow them right from the ground like herbs. Like- Spiders... "Phat!" Sammy blared out as he produced a lighter. "Light it up, bitch," Jason said to Sammy in a fake Jamaican accent. Sammy reached out with his lighter and tried to light Jason’s arm. Laughter rose from them both as it quickly turned into a wrestling match. In seconds, Jason had Sammy’s arm pinned against him, and he pulled away the lighter from his grip. "Ah ha! Mine!" Jason declared to the rest of us. I smiled wearily. Jason held out his hand for the joint. Kenny was hesitant to give it to him but did so anyway. Jason pinned it between his lips and lit it. That sweet aroma was back, and, once again, all I cared about was getting high. Jason inhaled, held it in, then blew it all out forcefully. As he did so he coughed furiously. We all started to laugh, not that we thought it was funny, but because we were excited that it was good shit. Jason passed the joint to Sammy, who passed it to Julie, who then passed it to Frank, then to Kenny, to me and back to Jason again. As the joint circled once more I began to think about those spiders... growing... crawling... biting. Kenny handed me the joint, and I passed it to Jason without taking a hit. Jason eyed me and scoffed, "Well are you just gonna sit there, or are you gonna take a hit?" "I pass," I said as I stood up and left the circle. And as I walked away, I could feel the smiles on all of their faces grow wider and wider. Then, Frank hollered out, "Hey look! It’s Ben, the one hit wonder!" I continued to walk away without looking back. That night, all of us got together and drove through the town which we lived, San Mandrel. Every one of us dreaded being here. It was like living in an over-sized old folks home for religious zealots who do nothing but smoke, drink, and shoot off big guns. Frank was in his car, and I was in mine as I continued to follow him through the light city traffic. Finally, he turned off onto a small neighborhood street. I remained behind him for the time being. The plan was to gather as many pumpkins our cars could allow and meet up at a designated place, in this case the Wal-Mart parking lot, and see who had the biggest load. Then afterwards, we were to split up once again and launch a little attack on the neighborhoods of San Mandrel. A pumpkin attack. I felt the adrenaline rush through me. I was ready. Frank’s gray-primered Buick pulled over and out came Kenny. He rushed to the house they were parked in front of and took the two pumpkins that sat on the porch. Everyone in my car started to get excited as they passed a joint in my direction. I looked at it for a moment longer then took it. Kenny hurried back to Frank’s car and tossed the pumpkins and himself inside. Everyone in my car, including myself, were laughing our hardest. It was just too much! Julie commented on how someone’s car was going to get smashed tonight. I smiled and passed her the joint and said, "A lot of cars are gonna be taken out before dawn. Damn, that’s gotta suck... for them." All of us laughed out loud as I pulled out and drove ahead of Frank. The three people riding in his car and the three who were riding in mine waved their hands out the window as if they had wanted to catch an arm and yank it from their sockets. Wouldn’t that have been a sight. I drove ahead of Frank’s car then turned down some dark and winding road. I peered through my rearview mirror and saw Frank’s car continue straight. We were now separated from each other. Let the games begin. Within two hours, me, Jason, Julie and Sammy had accumulated over thirty pumpkins. The entire trunk was full and Julie and Sammy had pumpkins beside them, on them and on the floorboards under their feet. There was even a pumpkin under Jason’s feet. And, as we met up with Frank and Kenny and two other friends who were with them in the parking lot, we quickly discovered that pumpkins could also fit in glove boxes. Kenny took out the last three miniature pumpkins they had and laid them proudly on the hood of Frank’s car. They won, we lost. So, then it was time to unload the orange baggage. The next morning I thought about all the cars we destroyed. I imagined that there were some really pissed off people that morning as they exited their houses and stood in front of their cars, disbelieving what they had seen in front of them. I wonder, still, if some of those people cried when they saw the havoc we caused. Vandalism. The word vandalism in Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary reads: The spirit or conduct of vandals; hence, malicious or ignorant destruction, especially that of which is beautiful or artistic. I produced a cigarette from the pack, stuck it against my lips and lit it. The buzz off the tobacco hit me during my second exhale. I can see why people were addicted to them now. It wasn’t because of the deep, rich smell or the disgusting after taste they left when you’re finished. It’s the calming effect people crave so dearly. I took a deep drag and exhaled, watching the smoke rush against my bedroom wall and vanish into nothing. That second night, I saw nothing unusual. I guess a part of me was expecting to see the dark figure again. And in that moment, I thought that everything I saw and felt was all in my head. Was it? I knew it wasn’t, and I hoped it wasn’t, but I also felt guilt. If I knew how I would feel now, I wouldn’t have continued doing the stupid things I’d done within those two months. Of course, doesn’t everyone wish they had the chance to go back and correct the things that they had done wrong? Well, I had that chance, and I didn’t. The next night I was back smashing pumpkins once again. Frank, Jason, Julie and I were in my car, roaming the nightly neighborhoods for pumpkins and something to throw them at. Jason had thrown one into a mail box. The mail box and post crashed to the ground. Ten points! Later I had taken a pumpkin off a porch and sped off. I left it in my lap for most of the night until I was ready to chuck it into someone’s car window. I drove through endless neighborhoods, smoking pot and drinking vodka straight from the bottle, though, I kept in mind to focus on the marijuana rather than the alcohol. I turned left, then right, then left again, swerving all over and purposely running over big piles of raked leaves and zooming through huge puddles of water. Ha ha! Oh, how I miss that. We continued down the street. It must have been two in the morning because I was beginning to feel a little tired... but just a little. And then there it was. My target. The car was a ‘92 Camaro. Mmm, beautiful. I sped for it and stopped right behind it. The car was sitting in the driveway as if its back window was waiting for me. I licked my lips and hopped out of my car with the pumpkin in my hand. My friends cheered me on as I rushed to the car with my pumpkin raised in the air. As I stood before it, I threw the pumpkin down hard. The rear window smashed fiercely and was louder than I had expected. In that split second, I raced back to my car, but, for some unknown reason, I stopped and turned toward the mess I just created. And there, for the second time, I saw the dark figure. He had on a black suit and a black derby, and his face wasn’t human. It wasn’t human at all! Dear God, it was the face of a spider. Its mandibles moved back and forth as if its jaw had been positioned sideways. And, between them was its mouth. The jaws looked strong and its fangs protruded outward like spear-heads. Some sort of goop dripped off of them. I supposed it was saliva, or maybe even poison. I blinked and the dark figure was still there, but his face had changed to an old man. He smiled and pointed to the pumpkin mess I left on the car rear window. There, I saw billions of tiny spiders swarming the car. They infested it as if it was some kind of nest... or hive. That made me think about the golden castle in the middle of the spider web in my dream. It wasn’t really a castle. It was a hive. A hive of souls. Of spiders... I looked back at the dark figure and he was gone. From behind I could hear my friends calling for me to get back in the car. I blinked once again and awoke from my daze. I peered at the damage I created. It was just a mess of pumpkin innards and shattered glass. I was shaking as I got back inside my car and sped off into the night. I glanced back into my rearview mirror, and I saw the nightly silhouette of a man crouched down beside the car. He then stood up and watched us until I turned the nearest corner. At first I thought he was part of my illusion as well. But, the more I thought about it, the more I knew that the man was very much real. He was crouched down because he was assessing the entire damage. And maybe, just maybe, he saw what I had seen- spiders. Pumpkinseed spiders. A week after the pumpkin incident, I dreamed of the golden castle. It was surrounded by forests and mountains. A calm river ran close the castle. The water was blue and the rocks along side it were white like salt. They made me think of spider eggs, and I smiled. Halloween came and passed, and I saw very little of my old friends. I hung around with Jason for a short while, but our friendship dissolved when I quit smoking marijuana. I no longer needed it to enhance my personality. Eventually, I found a job at a car body repair shop. Ironic, eh? And, I saved enough to take a few courses at San Mandrel Junior College. I later opened up my own auto repair business. Unfortunately, it fell through after a couple years. I suppose that was a sign from God, or, from life, that I had redeemed myself and it was time to move on. I ended up leaving San Mandrel and moved up north to Sacramento. I never saw my old friends again, though, I heard Jason was spending time in the local prison for beating his girlfriend. The district attorney took up the charges after his girlfriend dropped them. In the end, he was sentenced to eight years of ass packing. Sometimes I can’t help thinking about my fate if I had never seen the dark figure and those spiders. As I said before, I still don’t totally understand what it all was, but I’m sure, in fact I know I’m sure, it was for the better. And, hopefully, I won’t have to experience it all again. Ever again.
©2003 Brian Grisham Brian Grisham lives in Modesto, California and has had published a four part novelette titled, When The Moon Remembers, which is available at: covenroses.com - and is for sale locally in Modesto. He has also published over twenty stories online, and is currently attempting to publish his second book, "Black Roses In Delirium", which is a collection of his published short stories. Black Roses In Delirium |
