Pagan Moss' Peep Show Stories

Friday, May 14, 2004

The Spider



The Spider

Julia sat on her couch with her notebook open across her lap, staring at an empty page. She could not write; her head felt as if it were full of stagnant water. She found herself staring out the window instead, longing to be outside where she could breathe in the fresh air. And with that thought, she closed her notebook and left for the park down the street.

The park was full of color and the air was sweet with life. Julia made her way to her favorite bench which sat against a fence which separated an old graveyard from the children's playground. She liked this spot as she felt like she was straddling life and death and it was here where she'd often produce her best work. She opened her notebook and immediately began writing. The words flowed effortlessly and she filled up ten pages before her pen came to rest. Something had broken her concentration. She felt as if someone was watching her. She looked up at the playground and saw that it was now empty except for an attractive young girl who was sitting atop the monkey bars, swinging her legs and smoking a cigarette. She had long brown hair and was wearing a flowered dress; her legs and feet were bare.

“Hi,” the girl said, flicking her ashes.

“Hi,” Julia responded.

The girl carefully lowered herself down from the monkey bars, holding her cigarette in her mouth.

“What’s your name?” the girl asked, walking toward her.

“Julia. What’s yours?”

“Marisol.”

“What a lovely name.”

“Thank you. It’s my grandmother’s.”

Marisol squatted down and ground the tip of her cigarette into the sand. She blew off the excess ash from the tip and then stuck the stub into her dress pocket.

“What are you writing?” she asked, climbing onto the swing.

“Oh, not much. Just a story I’m working on.”

“Wow, you’re a writer?” she asked, pumping her legs. “I thought you might be. I’ve seen you out here writing lots of times.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I live over there,” Marisol said, pointing toward the graveyard.

“In the graveyard?” Julia laughed.

“No, silly. I live in a house just past the graveyard. I’m a nanny though so I’m here a lot. Today’s my day off, though.”

“I’m surprised you’d want to hang out here on your day off.”

“Well . . . I was walking through the park on my way home and saw you sitting on the bench. I thought I’d stop by, have a quick smoke, introduce myself. I mean, I feel like I practically know you, seeing you up here all the time.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Marisol,” Julia said, closing her notebook and setting it aside on the bench.

“Wow . . . from up here, you can really see the bay,” Marisol exclaimed.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you should come check it out. You can see the whole graveyard, too.”

Julia sat down on the other swing, took a couple of steps backwards and then jumped into the air, swinging forward.

“I haven’t done this since I was a kid,” Julia said as she climbed higher into the air, trying to catch up with Marisol.

At this height, Julia could see the bay, which sparkled and shined in the sun and she thought how lovely it looked. Her attention quickly turned back to the graveyard as an ominous flock of crows took flight overhead, screeching and swirling in the air like black confetti.

“I love that cemetery,” Marisol said. “ I can see it from my room. It’s so peaceful.”

Julia could remember when she thought such things. She was once young and dramatic like Marisol.

A little boy suddenly appeared from nowhere. He stood in front of the swings, staring up at them. His mother came up from behind and scooped him up. “You gotta wait your turn, Billy. They’re swinging now.” The little boy’s face wrinkled up and turned bright red as he let out a huge cry. “Now Billy, that’s enough,” his mother said as he arched his back, trying to get down from her arms.

“That’s OK, I’ll get down,” Marisol said, dropping her feet and dragging them in the sand until she stopped. “Here you go, Billy,” she said as she jumped off the swing.

Billy wriggled out of his mother’s arms and ran to the swing. “Billy!” his mother cried out. “Thank you,” she said, looking embarrassed.

“Don't mention it. The playground's for kids anyways, right?” Marisol said, walking toward Julia. “Besides, I can always swing with my friend.”

Julia stopped her swing.

Marisol grabbed the chain links of Julia’s swing. “Do you mind if I swing with you?”

“Both of us on this swing?” Julia laughed.

“Sure. You mean you never did the spider with your girlfriends when you were a kid?”

“The spider?” Julia asked, perplexed.

“Let me show you. It's fun,” Marisol said. And with that, she jumped on top of Julia so that she was now straddling her, their faces just inches apart. Marisol pushed off the ground to get the swing going again.

“Now pump your legs,” she coached Julia.

Julia felt a little awkward being in such a position with a near stranger and quite a young attractive one at that. She wondered if Marisol was even 18.

“How high do you want to go?” Marisol giggled.

“This is good,” Julia said, looking warily down at the ground.

“Isn’t this great?” Marisol yelled out, arching her back and letting her head fall back as she swung forward, her long hair flowing behind her.

As Julia swung forward, Marisol’s body slipped into hers, pushing the bottom of her shirt up so that her bare stomach was resting directly against what felt like Marisol’s bare vulva. Julia looked down and saw the air catch the bottom of Marisol’s dress, lifting it up ever so slightly, revealing nothing but bare smooth skin underneath. Marisol was not wearing any underwear and she didn’t seem to notice or to be fazed in the very least.

Feeling a little uncomfortable, Julia tried to wiggle her way backward, but it was no use. Each time Julia swung forward, Marisol would just slip forward again, laughing and smiling.

“I need to stop. I’m feeling a little queasy,” Julia said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Marisol said, looking concerned.

The swing slowed and Marisol drug her feet into the sand until they came to a stop. Marisol leaned forward and gently kissed Julia on the forehead before climbing off of her.

“I’m really sorry, Julia,” Marisol apologized, her large dark eyes blinking madly. “I hope you’re not upset at me.”

“Of course not. I think I just need to eat or something.” Julia stood up and walked toward the bench.

“Are you leaving now?” Marisol asked, looking disappointed.

“Yeah, I probably should get going before it gets dark.”

“Where do you live?” Marisol asked.

“Just down the street,” Julia said, pointing to the south.

“How ‘bout I walk you to the edge of the park?”

“Sure.”

Julia grabbed her pen and notebook. She waited for Marisol to grab her shoes, but she just kept walking. She noticed the soles of her feet were black and calloused as if she hadn’t a pair. They walked in silence under the dense canopy of trees, the waning glint of sunlight breaking through intermittently.

They came upon an old tower which stood at the entrance of the park. Marisol stopped and looked up at it, entranced.

“Oh, Julia,” Marisol said. “The sun is going to be setting soon. I bet the view from the tower is beautiful. What do you think?”

“To tell you the truth, I’ve never been up there. There's just something about it . . .”

“Oh, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Marisol said, laughing. "I've been up there lots of times. Come on."

The tower had one narrow winding staircase, which grew darker with each step. Marisol led the way, but kept looking back for Julia to make sure she was keeping up.

“You doing OK?” Marisol asked, her voice reverberating eerily off the old stone walls.

Julia didn’t answer. Marisol turned around and saw that Julia had stopped a couple steps down from her.

“I guess I’m a little out of shape,” Julia panted.

Marisol walked back down the stairs to Julia.

“That’s OK; take your time," Marisol said as she reached out and began stroking Julia’s cheek.

Julia looked up at Marisol. In the dark, she was drawn to her eyes. Marisol suddenly leaned forward and kissed her gently on the mouth without saying a word. A warm wave washed over Julia and she could not resist Marisol’s advance. She pulled Marisol closer, feeling her young firm breasts against hers. Julia’s hands moved under Marisol's dress, up her bare thighs, over her slight hips, and then back down over her small round behind. Marisol took Julia’s hand and guided it between her thighs instead. Julia’s fingers slid between Marisol's soft, swollen lips and Marisol writhed in delight, arching her back and biting down on her lip.

The sounds of footsteps and laughter from below suddenly filled the stairwell. Frightened, Marisol pulled away from Julia and ran up the stairs. Julia straightened her clothes and started up the stairs, too. A small group of teenagers, racing up the stairs, pushed past her.

When she finally reached the top, she looked around the room for Marisol. The teenagers were all looking out through the bars of the tower windows, but there was no sign of Marisol. How could that be, she thought. There is only one stairwell--only one way out. She walked over to one of the windows and looked down at the park below. The sun was setting.

“It’s so beautiful,” one of the girls said.

Julia turned around and walked back down the dark winding staircase, half expecting to find Marisol waiting for her at the bottom. But when she reached the last step, she was nowhere to be found.

She walked the edge of the park as far as she could, hoping to run into Marisol. She needed to know that she was not losing her mind. When she reached the end of the park, she turned around to take one last look. On the other side of the park, beyond the fence line, she saw a figure walking in the graveyard.

“Marisol,” Julia yelled.

The figure stopped, turned toward her, and waved.

Julia could not move. She was only able to look on in disbelief as the figure evaporated amongst the tombstones.



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