Stairway Spider

October 28, 2020 Dedicated to that lonely spider that I once saw two years ago in my stairway

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Stairway Spider On the busiest street between a coffee shop and the Scientology church, there is the narrowest door.

An invisible door to the people walking by, suits looking at their watches and the others who either look down at their shoes or up beyond the clouds.

Above the door is my room. And from my room I can sit at the littlest window and watch all the people walking back and forth. In and out of the coffee shop. In and out of the church. And those who just walk laps around the street.

A stairway exists between the narrowest door and my room with the littlest window. A stairway that remains empty except for the air leaking through the cracks around the door and the dirt that falls from my shoes.

One day, I found the shiniest spider on the stairway wall. I could not image how it found its way to this stairway. The little shiny spider did not move as I walked past it.

A few days later, I found the spider creating a web at the base of a step. Although the stairway was warm, away from the autumn cold, I did not know what the spider expected to catch in its web in this lonely space. Nothing lurked here. I skipped the webbed step as I made my way up to my room.

That night while looking out the tiniest window I thought about the shiniest spider. I wondered how the spider perceived time. What did it think about while waiting at its web? Waiting optimistically in the warm stairway, or pessimistically in the vacant space. Was it thinking of me as I thinking about it? After all, I was the only living creature it had seen in the past day. I thought about this as I watched the people outside slowly fading away as the night crept into the sky.

After the leaves had fallen and the clouds were imminent with their first snowfall, I noticed the shiniest spider still existed. It was no longer at its web near the bottom of the stairway but had climbed several levels higher towards the door to my room.

I did not mind the spider. But our acquaintance was only for a short second when I would quickly walk past it on my way up or down the stairs. I would not think my low regard for the spider would continue if it reached beyond the thick door to my room. However, as the spider slowly ascended each day; I knew my room was the spider's inevitable destination.

It was not like my small apartment did not have enough space to house the addition of one spider. There was plenty of room and also numerous cracks that the spider could live in without disruption. There would also be benefits as pesky flies were always hanging out in one corner near the garbage can. The spider would thrive and so would I with the disappearance of the garbage flies. But I liked my privacy and the spider had too many legs for its own good. I did not want a spider to enter my snoring mouth as I slept.

I pondered the decision for several days while the shiniest spider continued to slowly climb the staircase.

On the fifth day, the spider had reached my door. I had just climbed the stairway from the cold outdoors and was about to enter my room when I found the spider perched on the frame of the door to my room. This was the moment. Either live together in peace or greet the spider with the bottom of my boot. There were no rules or laws in the stairway. Neither of us had jurisdiction on the land. I could kill it right here and leave the body to fade to dust. But once I let the spider inside my room, it wouldn't be so simple. Its shiniest body would leave a mess, the body would have to be disposed of, and besides, it would be quite difficult to kill the spider with all the hiding places behind shelves and inside cracks.

I opened the door, and the shiniest spider quickly made its way inside and around the corner behind the fridge out of view. I didn't realize that it could move so fast.

Stairway Cat

A month later, on the street between the coffee shop and the Scientology church, was the narrowest door. And beyond this doorway, the darkest cat appeared in the stairway.

Living with the shiniest spider wasn't so bad. I rarely noticed it and the flies around my garbage can had disappeared. I allowed the spider to create a web in the corner near the garbage, but would break it down whenever it became too large. There were codes and standards as to how large a web was allowed in this room after all.

Eventually, the spider problem occurred. It was the second week after the shiniest spider had taken up residence that I noticed a second spider. This second spider was much smaller but was also the shiniest. I didn't give it any concern. But as the month progressed, more and more spiders started to appear. They would be positioned motionless on random walls or places in my room. One day I got a glimpse of the original shiniest spider. Its body much larger, its legs moved with patient precision as it walked. Little spiders would always be near, its dedicated followers. No longer was this spider a little desperate lost creature in a stairway, but a behemoth of a being with experience and power. The web also grew larger. Several spiders always lurked on the large web near the garbage can, and would all move defensively when I brought a pair of scissors to trim the web down in size. Their cautious state was intimidating and I no longer had power over the size of the web.

So, when I found the darkest cat in my stairway, I was quite relieved at the solution that was presented to me. But I didn't want to rush the cat to my spider problem. Besides, it wasn't really a pressing concern. The spiders were mostly passive and the flies near my garbage can were no longer an issue.

The darkest cat stayed in the stairway for a long time. Either it didn't care for my room at the top, or it somehow already knew that my room was colder than the stairway. Instead the cat appeared to spend its days doing absolutely nothing. Whenever I travelled through the stairway, I would find the cat lying completely still on one of the steps. It took no regard of my presence and did not move the slightest whenever I stepped past it.

I myself am not the trusting type. In fact, I'm suspicious among strangers. The cat had no tag or collar, was a messy pile of loose fur, and looked desperately thin. My heart told me it carried disease or fleas or whatever bad things that ferals carried. But my brain knew that feral cats didn't exist in the busiest city. If it was anything but an ex-house-pet, it would have thrived with a fat belly in these streets.

I did not wish to invite the cat into my room, or even to pet it. But this was an opportunity that could benefit me. I bought cat food and placed a bowl of Fishy Cat on the middle step of the stairway. The cat payed no attention and did not move or acknowledge the placement of the meal. However, when I returned home later that day, the bowl was empty.

This relationship continued until the cat stopped sitting on the lower steps and instead only sat at the top, next to my door.

During this time the spider situation was escalating. Spiders started to appear more and more often in my room. It wasn't that big of a deal when I spotted one while showering, it gave me motivation to shower faster. Finding a dead spider trapped in the fridge was mildly concerning. While I slept in my bed, I couldn't help feel shivers on my bare legs but maybe that was just my imagination. And instead of finding flies when I opened my garbage lid, spiders would creep out.

The last straw was when I went to toss a banana peel into the garbage but missed and it fell slightly behind. I knelt over to pick it up but already a handful of spiders were on the peel, dragging it underneath the little shelf away from view. The way all the little spiders moved and the sheer quantity of them behind the garbage bin made my heart shiver in disgust. I had a problem.

I never killed or pressed harm against the spiders. Not out of pacifism, but out of fear. I did not want to start a war with the creatures. At least until now they didn't really do anything other than exist. I needed a proxy to conduct my battles.

I held the door open for the cat. For the first time in the past two months, I saw the cat move. It got up on its feet, and slowly entered my room. It did not appear to be cautious, but it took its time to enter.

The results were disappointing.

The darkest cat did not engage with the spiders. Instead the cat kept to itself and was usually hidden on top of a shelf. Only on rare occasions would I see the cat move. Otherwise it would just lie somewhere completely still.

The one time I saw the cat move was when a small spider approached. Perhaps it was curious about the cat, but when it got close the cat opened its eyes and quickly darted across the room.

I stopped buying the cat food in hopes that hunger would motivate the cat to hunt the spiders for food. However, with no food, the cat only appeared to get weaker. I could feel the cat's regret for moving into a room occupied by spiders, but it was now stuck with me in this predicament.

Food

The darkest cat ate nothing. Which was more difficult to enforce than I had imagined. I couldn't leave any food on the counter and had to eat my meals quickly before the cat could sneak itself some of my food. After two weeks of hard work, the cat was on the edge of starvation.

I picked up the cat as it rested beside the littlest window. The cat felt like a weightless cloud and its fur overflowed my grasp. I sat the cat across of me so we were facing each other and I said:

"You're at crossroads, and depending on your decisions, this could be your final one. And if this is your final crossroad, then all your dreams, your desires, your history, your potential, will vanish beyond existence. Think of the future. Some choices make you a different person, but your soul is still the same."

That was the night that the peace was broken. The cat remained in the spot that I placed it. It laid there unmoving, its head resting on the floor with its eyes closed. A little spider approached the cat, possibly to test if the cat was still alive. As the spider delicately raised a leg to make contact, the cat raised its own leg and in less than a blink's time, squished the spider into the floor. The cat slowly raised its paw to reveal the spider's guts and blood remaining on the hardwood floor. The cat licked away the remains, desperate for its first scraps of food in two weeks.

There was no turning back. It was open season on the spiders. The cat immediately began to strike against lone spiders creeping around on the open floor. It didn't take long for the spiders to notice the new predator and they hurriedly scurried towards safety behind the garbage can to escape the cat's attack.

After the preliminary spiders in the room were eaten, the cat approached the nest. The garbage can was at the corner of the room, next to a shelf that had a narrow crack between it and the wall; all of it surrounded by webs. Who knew how many spiders lurked behind? The spiders hid around the corner, watching with caution as the cat slowly approached. The cat had a taste for spider blood, and it wanted more. The cat halted its approach in front of the garbage, awaiting the spiders' move.

The spiders responded. Slowly a mass of spiders revealed themselves, leaving the confines of the crack behind the shelf and positioning themselves as a line in front of the cat. Following behind its preliminary troops, the original shiniest spider appeared. The spider retained its shine, but was much larger. The spider was now the size of a tennis ball, its legs moved with power and strength, standing out from the rest of the spiders around it with its sheer size. The shiniest spider looked at the cat, then it looked at me. I was standing on the other side of the room, a background observer. I never knew what the spider thought of me. Did it comprehend my existence, could a spider grasp a being much larger than itself? Was I a god in its view? Half a year ago the shiniest spider was lost in a stairway that no one visited, and out of pity, I welcomed the spider into my home. And the shiniest spider had thrived, birthing a civilization. But now as the shiniest spider peered past the cat, and stared at me. I could understand its revelation, the spider was questioning my part in the events.

The shiniest spider asked me, "Why did you forsaken us with the darkest cat?"

I had no reply, and had no obligation to give one. I faded into the background to observe the events that would follow.

The shiniest spider understood the answer. It knew I was against it. It foresaw that either victory or defeat against the cat had no impact on the results. The shiniest spider stepped ahead beyond its army of little spiders, until it stood directly in front of the cat. This was going to be a one on one fight.

The cat raised its paw to strike the spider head on. The spider quickly dashed to the right with its eight legs moving rapidly. The cat's paw stuck the floor creating a loud thud. The spider lunged for the cat's arm. It latched on with its legs and dug its teeth into the cat's flesh. The cat screeched and flung its arm in the air. The spider lost its grip and was flown off but landed upright several spaces away. The horde of spiders watched without moving.

The cat recovered from the bite. It was clear it felt the wound as it leaned its weight on the other leg. The cat changed its posture ready to pounce. The spider readied itself. The cat lunged in a single jump towards the spider. The spider again darted to get out of the way. The cat landed as the spider narrowly dodged to the left.

Almost narrowly.

One of the spider's legs were trapped underneath the cat. The cat noticed and immediately dropped its weight onto the spider's opposite leg. The spider was pinned to the floor. It tried to break free but it was pointless. There was nothing it could do. The cat watched the spider desperately try to escape until it got bored and ripped off the pinned legs. Then it continued to rip the remaining legs until the spider had no arms or legs left.

I never knew spiders made any noise. But in that moment I heard the spider screaming out in misery. Its limbless form, unable to do anything but feel pain. The cat toyed with the body for a minute pushing it around on the floor before it started to eat the spider alive. The other spiders stood motionless in shock as they watched.

The cat ate the spider, leaving nothing behind. In the end, there was no evidence that the shiniest spider had existed. Finally the crowd of spiders began to scatter randomly in all directions away from the cat. The darkest cat had won, and era of the spider in my room was over.

It took two weeks until I stopped seeing spiders. The darkest cat was a diligent hunter, systematically eliminating one spider at a time. But it also appeared that the spiders didn't have the will to survive either. They didn't put any effort into fighting back or hiding in a crack. With the death of their leader, they simply had no will or purpose to live.

Summer

I started to buy cat food again after all the spiders were taken care of. The darkest cat resumed its old lifestyle of sitting by the window or perched on top of the cupboards lazing around. The cat had earned its rest.

As time passed, the thought of having spiders infesting my room became just a faded memory. I knew that it had happened, but it was like believing an outrageous story from a close but unreliable friend.

Flies started to appear around my garbage bin during the summer. They thrived in the rotting food with no spidery predator to worry about. Neither the cat nor I paid any attention.

One day while walking the hot streets in the busiest city, I came across a missing cat poster. A piece of paper completely covered in scotch tape on a lone lamp pole in a lonely street. The poster had a picture of a cat that had the undeniable darkest fur.

The owner was surprised on the phone. They had lost their cat and put up posters half a year ago. They had given up hope ages ago, but were none the less happy to hear of the cat's existence. I agreed to deliver the cat to them on the following day.

It was strange. This was the first time I would let the cat leave my room. I wondered how to transport the cat but eventually resolved by putting it in a cardboard box. I had to tape the box closed to keep the cat from escaping.

It was a short walk through the busy streets carrying the cardboard box. Between a coffee shop and the gay strip club, was the narrowest alleyway where only a sliver of light slipped between the skyscraping downtown buildings. A dozen steps down and I came to a door that listed the address of the original owners of the darkest cat.

After ringing the buzzer, I was introduced to a perfect family. The two partners gave a loving aurora with a kid shyly standing behind their legs. It was like looking at a TV commercial. What little I could see into their house looked too perfectly messy, as if it was pre-arranged by a marketing team creating the ideal lived-in room. I shook their hands and passed the box that they quizzically looked at. After opening they gleefully celebrated and the kid ran off with the cat beyond my view. The family gave me $200 for feeding and taking care of the cat.

The Darkest Cat

I never saw the darkest cat again.

The cat lived an easy simple life afterwards. Every day, the perfect family fed the cat its favorite cat food and never asked anything from it. The time with the spiders became a bad dream that was only half remembered. The cat convinced itself that none of it ever really happened.

Happy years passed and the cat got older. It became a major inconvenience to leave its perch by the window to get food from its bowl in the kitchen. Still the cat enjoyed its time sitting by the warm sunlit window watching the birds outside.

The darkest cat died peacefully in its nighttime sleep. Its corpse was perfectly relaxed next to the window. As it lay there, the cat's mouth slowly opened and a small shiny spider crawled out and fell to the floor. The spider didn't move for a second until it became accustomed to being out in the fresh air of a room. It got up and signaled at the cat. Again the cat's mouth opened, but this time several spiders poured out. Two dozen shiniest spiders accumulated on the floor, and made their way towards the garbage can.