It was a night like any other night except for sleeping in a bed that was not my own in an apartment I was house-sitting. Doors locked and lights extinguished, I crawled into bed, preparing for a restful slumber. One, at the time, I didn’t know would come much later.
As my body began to relax, I settled into the unfamiliar noises and felt a slight tickle on my arm. I knew there were a number of explanations for the follicular-shift, but at the time, I could only think of three.
Sure, the sheet is settling, and not mine. It has to conform to my dimensions, and thus a tug of a hair was bound to be expected. Plausible. The second possibility scares me more than the others…it’s a bug. And as we all know, any bug that crawls in the shroud of night are cockroaches. Thus, IT’S a cockroach. We must not only evacuate but also burn the bedding, perhaps apartment, especially if it’s little. ‘Cause where there’s one… And the third rational reason exists in the realm of the supernatural. Namely a ghost, sliding into the vacancy and gently caressing my arm as I begin to drift to sleep.
Regardless of the source, and unsure at this time if what we’re dealing with is friend or foe, the only thing to do was a quick peek under the blanket to reaffirm my solo occupancy. Finding nothing, I settled back down, slightly less at ease.
As I lay there, pondering on the depth of my search and questioning whether it had been enough, I could no longer rationalize my doubts and decided one simple blanket-shaking, pillow-lifting verification could only help the current situation. Thus, moving forward with my plan, I stood on the bed and shook out the blanket. Nothing. We’re almost in the clear. But, there’s still the pillow. Judging by relative proportions and odds of chance being under the pillow opposed to the blanket, I felt it was a battle already won.
I reach down, lifting the pillow out of a need for thoroughness, with no real urgency behind the motion. And then, like lightning bolts a spider from under the pillow, but not just any spider: a baby spider. Anyone who has ever seen a spider knows this mom didn’t just create one tiny little spider; no, she created a sac full of baby spiders. And when one’s out, they’re all out, thus began the hunt.
The bed was positioned in the corner opposite the door. I found no sign of arachnid activity on the visible floor or walls which led to the pulling out of the bed frame and hope that this really was just a one-off.
I climbed back on the bed- willing to take my chances after one more thorough check. Inching closer to the edge, I peered over.
There, lining the entire baseboard scattered a nestful of baby spiders. Only the two that startled me seemed to have strayed from their pack and scaled up the mattress.
So, what to do? It was time to switch into high gear, so I scurried through the house and stumbled upon the only sensible weapon. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m all, “Save the Spiders!” But, that rule only applies to singular encounters with singular spiders. Armed with my air freshener in hand, I wasted no time returning, in fear others would venture beyond the confines of the baseboard.
I reentered the room, spray raised at the ready, and made a bee-line to the protection of the mattress. Dousing these tiny spiders with the entirety of the can simply seemed to slow, not stop, them in their tracks, and at the time, I worried there was a chance they could pull through.
After a battle fought and won, I gathered the bedding and conducted a thorough check in the living room. The aroma of fresh linen permeating through the apartment tickled my nostrils as I curled up and fell asleep.