For our fifth submission to the WriteAngles Journal, Betsy Garrett’s story shows that facing your fears isn’t as hard as you think.
Why I Don’t Kill Spiders
by Betsy Garrett
Rivers of tiny ants crawled out of the box of sugar. My sisters and I shuddered at the sight as Mom pounded on Dad’s chest, wailing, “I hate Florida! Why did we move here?”
“It was the job,” he said, not moving.
After that, Mom put a can of pesticide in every room.
So I knew what to do a few days later when I saw on top of the dryer a spider as big as my hand: eight jointed legs splayed around a striped torso. Before it could rear up and lunge at me, I grabbed the pesticide and pressed the trigger, the toxin stinging my nose.
My joy in my power fled as she died in an instant. Horrified, I watched those massive legs shrink, curling around her slender body. My heart hurt as I swept her up in a paper towel: so light, like nothing. What had frightened me about her?
After that, I began to observe the insects in our new home: no longer fearing them, no longer needing to kill. I put the sugar in a plastic tub to keep out the ants.
The following month, I helped a neighbor paint the eaves of her house. As I poked my brush into the cracks, a tiny hairy spider peered out of the darkness, its eyes huge. My heart pounded but no longer with fear. “Oh hello,” I said. When it saw me holding the paintbrush, it crawled backward into the dark safety of the crevice.
For Charles Coe
Betsy Garrett lives in Northampton, Massachusetts.