Felix Takes the Stage (7 page)

E
dith's fears of being unsettled became real one afternoon when Glory came to visit. It was an odd time of day for Glory to stop in, and as soon as she dropped through the hatch, Edith knew it was bad news.

“Don't tell me. He's cleaning again, right?” Edith asked.

“Worse.”

“E-Men!”

Glory nodded.

“No!” Edith gasped. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. “Run that by me one more time, Glory. What were the owner's exact words?”

“The owner was on the telephone and said, ‘My wife and I are having a baby, a blessed event. We've decided to sell the store, but we really have to clean it up.' Then he paused for almost a minute while I suppose the person on the other end said something. And then he said, ‘Yes, we know about the brown recluses at the philharmonic and we realize they might be throughout the neighborhood.' Then he said, ‘Yes … yes.' And then there was a part I didn't quite understand, something about ‘so you have to tent the store.'”

“Tent the store! Oh, mercy! That's the worst!” Edith exclaimed.

“What does it mean, Mom?” Jo Bell asked. Every hair on her eight legs began to tremble.

“It basically means that they are going to suffocate us. It's the most complete form of extermination. We have to get out of here fast! We must sound the alarm for every creature in this place. Fatty, get over to that ship bell and start slamming the clapper. An announcement must be made or we'll all die. Then get ready because we're going now. This is a real catastrophe!”

“It is a most
un
blessed event!” Fatty replied. “Let's get the show on the road!” He leaped to the ship's bell and began ringing it.

“The road to where?” Jo Bell asked.

Felix and his mom looked at each other, a dozen eyes between them all picturing one place. “Boston!” they both said at once.

“But how will we get there?” Julep asked. “It's the other side of the country.”

“Bus!” Fat Cat said. “There's a bus stop at the corner. If we switch at Sunset and Vine, we can catch a number four, ride it to the end of the line, and get to the terminal for buses headed cross-country.”

“Fatty, you're a genius!” Edith exclaimed.

“Not at all. Just a well-traveled old theater cat. I know transportation — from my days with a traveling Shakespeare company.”

 

Minutes later they were standing on the corner of Yucca and Las Palmas Avenue. Glory Uxbridge was perched on top of a fire hydrant and had begun to pay out the first of several silk threads. These lines were made of balloon silk, a special type of silk that gets caught by the wind. The spider would rise into the sky like a tiny kite.

“Before I pay out any more silk, I want to thank you all. In this breeze, I'll be off before you can flick a fang.” She paused and looked up. “Look who's leaving now.” She waved one leg toward a streetlight, at Oliphant and his new mate.

There were hundreds of orb weavers, more than Edith had ever imagined lived in the shop. Sunlight caught the spiders' silken threads, turning them a bright, shimmering gold. For a brief minute, it seemed as if a golden canopy were suspended over them. Edith and her children looked up in awe at the sight.

“Radiant!” Felix whispered. “Absolutely radiant!”

“Mom, why don't we balloon?” Julep whined as she watched Glory rise softly on the billows of wind.

“Hush, Julep. Here comes a bus. Okay, I want you all to line up next to me, and when the bus stops, just swing up. But don't go by the stairs — you might get squished. Get ready to cast a line and hoist yourself.”

“I have a better idea,” Fat Cat said. “All of you get on my back and I'll climb up on the rear fender.”

“You're sure, Fatty? You're sure you can jump that high?”

“It's not that high. I am a veteran bus rider.”

Fat Cat was as good as his word. They were soon all aboard the bus. Minutes later, as they rounded the corner on Yucca and Highland, Jo Bell called back to them with wonderful news. “Hey, he's back!”

“Who?” Edith called up.

“Leon Brinsky, the conductor. He survived! There's a big sign welcoming him back.”

“Now,
that
is a blessed event!” Felix sighed with relief.

“I hope Felix will be exonerated,” Edith called back up.

“What's exonerated?” asked Julep.

“Not blamed.”

“What does it matter, if my musical career is finished?” Felix sighed.

“Not necessarily, dear. There is more music out there. Remember, we're going to Boston. There is music and art in Boston.”

“But we're going to the library and not a symphony hall.”

“Well, we'll see.”

Felix hated it when his mother said “we'll see.” Even worse was “we'll think about it.” Because all she really ever wanted to see or think about was a dimmer, darker, more remote place to hide.

And a hidey-hole was exactly where Edith's musings were taking her. Someday, she thought, they would find everything they ever needed and wanted. And the Boston Public Library was a vast and wonderful place to start. She had left because she could not bear to be there without her mother. But now she had children of her own. If she were ever to find clues to the Place Where Time Has Stopped, it would be in the soft glow of those reading rooms filled with thousands upon thousands of books. There was so much to be explored, so much to read. And so many lovely places to hide.

A
fter they had boarded the bus, Felix cast a line to the roof and skibbled off to explore. He was back in a few minutes.

“Hey, you should see what's on the side of this bus,” Felix called out.

“What is it?” Jo Bell asked.

“It's an ad for a movie — about spiders!” Julep and Jo Bell scurried over to have a look. There was an advertisement running the length of the bus that showed an enormous spider with fangs the size of dinosaur teeth fighting a brawny man with a safari hat and a long whip.

“What in the name of venom does that fool think he's doing — a whip? Like a whip is going to help him. Why doesn't he just have a fumigation tank like other E-Men?” Jo Bell exclaimed.

“He's trying to be a hero,” Felix said. “Movie heroes have whips, not fumigation tanks.”

“That's not even a real spider! Look how they messed up his eyes!”

“Well, that's Hollywood for you!” Felix said.

“He is kind of handsome,” Julep mused. “The man, that is.”

“He looks like a jerk to me,” Felix replied.

“What's the movie called?” Julep asked as the bus pulled up at a stoplight.

“‘
Kentucky Jones and the Spiders of Doom
,'” Jo Belle said, reading upside down.

 

After another hour of riding, they arrived at the terminal. Edith immediately spotted a sign flashing
BOSTON
on a silvery blue bus, but Fatty was quick to redirect her.

“Not the Blue Fox line — no, never!”

“Why ever not?” Edith asked.

“You don't want to have to hang out in the lavatories all the time.” He wrinkled his nose.

Edith knew that cats tended to be more sensitive than spiders about such things and gave Fatty a look.

“Edith, it's not only that!” he exclaimed. “It could be dangerous.”

“Oh, yes, flushed away! Not like an outhouse. Outhouses can be very peaceful places,” Edith said, recalling a favorite outhouse from her early childhood in Indiana. “So, what would you suggest, Fatty?”

“The Luxo Liner. Lovely reclining leather seats.”

“We don't really require that,” Edith said.

But Fat Cat explained that just any old bus to Boston wouldn't do. “We must be sure to get aboard a Luxo Liner. First class the whole way. All the amenities, and amenities means plenty of nooks and crannies. Worktables for busy executives, Internet connections, outlets for laptops, a bar.”

“We don't drink!” Edith exclaimed.

Fatty sighed. “Honestly, Edith. Don't you see — if there is a bar, there are shelves, cubbyholes for glasses and wine bottles.”

Edith's six eyes shined brighter. “Now I'm getting it!”

“Yes! Nooks and crannies!” Fatty repeated.

 

Three hours later, Edith, her children, and Fatty were aboard the Luxo Liner heading east. It was all that Fatty had promised. Nooks and crannies galore. There were even movies!

T
here was the crack of a whip, then the sound of a Chinese gong. A rugged man wearing a safari hat appeared on the small screen. “Had a bit of a problem, ma'am?” A beautiful woman stepped forward.

“Trouble?” she asked.

“Someone put a spider where it isn't supposed to be.” The camera came in for a close-up on the face of Kentucky Jones, famous arachnologist and treasure hunter.

Edith suspended herself from a reading light above the screen. “Jo Bell, Julep! I cannot believe you are watching this trash!” The two sisters were perched on the frizzy hair of a young woman whose eyes had been glued to the screen showing
Kentucky Jones and the Spiders of Doom
. “Even that stupid girl has fallen asleep.”

“Great!” Jo Bell said. “I'm going to crawl in her ear so I can hear better through the headphones.”

“It's not boring, Mom,” Julep said. “The guy is such an idiot.”

Jo Bell popped back out. “You can't believe what Kentucky Jones just said to his girlfriend!”

“What?” Julep asked.

“Get this — ‘I would swim through an ocean of venom for you, sweetheart.' Ocean of venom — is that hysterical or what?”

Edith sighed. “Why don't you watch something with more educational value? Four rows up, there's a wonderful educational program about global warming.”

“Booorrring!” both girls said at once.

“Global warming is a real problem, girls. It could threaten all our lives, the very existence of our species.”

“Mom,” Jo Bell said with a note of exasperation in her voice. “You're the one who's always telling us that spiders have been around forever, four hundred million years, much longer than humans. What's a little heat? I'm sure we'll survive.”

Edith sighed. She wasn't going to push it. It was a long bus ride. She supposed it wouldn't hurt the children to watch an idiot actor gallivanting about. “Where's Felix? Why isn't he watching?”

“He's in the lavatory.”

“That's dangerous!” Edith replied.

“No,” Jo Bell said. “He's not
in
the toilet. He's just hanging out in a cabinet where they keep extra paper towels and stuff.”

“Oh, dear, I better go check. Fatty sends his love from baggage.”

Edith skibbled off to the lavatory. A woman was just pulling up her underpants as she arrived. Edith heard the roar of the toilet's flush and trembled. She certainly hoped Felix was where the girls had said. As the woman washed her hands, Edith crept up her skirt hem and then floated a line in toward the handle of the cabinet.

“Felix, are you in there?”

“Yeah, Mom. Wait until you see what I've done!”

“Oh, dear!”

“No, it's great. Come on in. You can squeeze through the crack.”

Edith entered the shadowy space. The cabinet was large and half the paper towels had been used, so there was plenty of space. And now, strung between the remaining rolls, a glistening fragile geometry quivered in the dim light.

“Felix! Felix!” Edith was stunned. “What have you done?”
What have you become?
she thought in anguish,
an orb weaver?

“I figured it out, Mom! It's amazing. I floated a line from that screw at the top and then another from the opposite side. Then I dropped a line from the center so it makes a kind of Y shape. But the hardest part was this crossband section in the middle. I used a combination of number one silk with number four. I know what you're thinking — odd combination of silk.”

He has no idea what I am thinking!
Edith made a small gasping noise, then plucked a thread with one of her legs to add vibrational emphasis to what she was about to say.

“It is not the oddness of the combination that startles me.” She paused. “It's your oddness. You're acting like Oliphant Uxbridge!”

At least five of Felix's eight legs began to wobble as his mother spoke. “Mom.” There was such anguish in his voice that Edith immediately knew she had gone too far. “Mom, I am NOT Oliphant Uxbridge. Not by any stretch of the imagination.”

“I know that, dear.”

“Then why did you say it, Mom? It's just like when we were back at the philharmonic and you said my only crime was —”

“But I said I misspoke.”

“Did you, Mom, or did you really believe it? You act like not hiding out really is a crime. You have to loosen up!”

“I am loose,” Edith protested. “That's why our webs are nice, cozy tangled affairs. This … this … is all too rigid, too inflexible, just like Oliphant Uxbridge!”

But Felix wouldn't back down. “You cannot judge spiders simply by their webs. It's not fair!”

Something flinched deep in Edith's spinnerets. There was truth to what her son was saying.

“I really miss the philharmonic,” he continued. “I am an artist. I thought I was going to be a musician.” He stopped. “I can't explain it, but I have these … these feelings … impulses for art. I need an outlet for them. What we weave is very practical, but am I destined to weave only gauzy, funny-shaped webs?”

“They're not funny-shaped!”

“All right, but they don't have the spiraling mystery of an orb web, the geometry. The beauty.”

He was right, of course. The web he had woven was undeniably beautiful. However, to Edith it did not look natural. She shifted nervously on her rear four legs.

“Not everything has to be useful, Mom. I mean, it is useful — the capture spiral works for them. I can't wait to see if I trap anything.”

“Hmmm” was Edith's only response.

At that moment Jo Bell and Julep arrived. “Holy silk, look at that, will you!” Jo Bell exclaimed.

“I thought you two were watching the movie,” Edith said.

“It got boring,” Julep replied. “Wow, Felix, what have you woven?”

“Spectacular, isn't it?” Felix was quivering with excitement now.

“It's simply the most beautiful web I've ever seen! I can't believe you did this all by yourself! Did you help him, Mom?” Julep turned to Edith.

“Certainly not! I am not an orb weaver. I wouldn't know where to begin.”

“But neither is Felix!” Julep said.

“He's an artist!” Jo Bell added.

Felix seemed to swell with pride.

“Look at those graceful curves, that soaring funnel — all the geometric shapes. It's not simply flat like any old orb weaver web at all,” Jo Bell continued.

“Oh, I wish that old windbag Oliphant Uxbridge could just see this,” Jo Bell gushed. She turned to her mother. “Don't you, Mom?”

Edith was not so sure. The web was truly a shimmering construction — like nothing she had ever seen. There were shapes that swooped like rolling ocean waves, some that folded in on themselves, and others that arced and soared. Edith had to admit that her son had brought together all of his talents to create a symphony in silk!

It frightened her. For if anyone saw this — any human — it would draw attention. And attention from the human world could be fatal. She wasn't sure how to handle this. But the next words from Felix gave her an idea.

“I'd show that stuck-up old spider a thing or two about weaving,” Felix proclaimed.

Edith found this comment worrying. She detected a whiff of pride in her son. He was a bright lad. But pride led to showing off. And that was the risk of Felix's artistic instincts. To express himself, he had to show himself. Art had too many occupational hazards.

“Children.” She spoke very soberly.

“Yeah, Mom?” they all said at once.

“I think it's time for a webtime story.”

“Oh, yay!” both Jo Bell and Julep cried. “We haven't had one in so long.”

But Felix remained silent.

“Where will we go, your web or here?” Felix asked.

“Here, of course. This is a lovely web. I think it might be very nice for storytelling. You can all perch on one of those … those … what do you call those threads that make up the circles, dear?” Edith asked, turning to Felix.

“Spirals,” he said quietly.

“So, what's the story, Mom?” Julep asked.

“This story is a myth,” Edith replied.

“I love myths!” Julep bounced on her radial.

“Take it easy, Julep. I'm not sure how strong that is,” Felix warned.

Edith continued. “The character in this myth is a girl and her name is Arachne.”

“Arachne?” all three children asked at once.

“But that's what we're called. Spiders — arachnids,” Jo Bell said. “So it's about a spider girl?”

“No, it's about a human girl.”

“That can't be!” Jo Bell said. “Why would a human have a spidery name?”

“Because she was turned into a spider,” Edith replied.

“SHE WHAT??!!” the three children of Edith all screamed at the same time.