Phil surveyed the hazard area left by the previous tenants. <\/p>\n
They\u2019d made the place a rat\u2019s nest of freshly used women\u2019s hygiene products, kitty litter, and dirty dishes. The house was no more than a spider hole: one room for living and cooking, one for showering and sleeping. Phil tried renting to single occupants, but the kind of trash that answered his ads weren\u2019t the kind to follow rules. They\u2019d move their families in, or their friends\u2019 visits would turn into extended stays. The last tenant let a woman and her two kids live with him. How they fit without sleeping on top of each other, Phil couldn\u2019t imagine. The guy hadn\u2019t paid rent for the last two months. Phil used everything but a crowbar to get them out of there.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey suck you dry,\u201d he said to his friend, Gus. \u201cDrain you until you\u2019ve got no option but kick\u2019em out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYep,\u201d Gus said, studying a section of the wall where someone\u2019s fist had broken through. Frayed fibers fringed the dark hole. A piece of sheetrock dangled from a strip of wallpaper. He tried folding it back in place, but it didn\u2019t fit. \u201cTold you this landlord business was no fun.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cIt ain\u2019t so bad,\u201d Phil said. \u201cEvery year or two I got to do some renovations, but it\u2019s a monthly supplement to my Social check.\u201d Phil amended, \u201cWhen the trash pays.\u201d<\/p>\n
Gus let the chunk of sheetrock drop, and it crumbled at his feet. \u201cYou ever have one leave without having to kick\u2019em out for not paying?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot in awhile,\u201d Phil said. Carolyn, his late wife, used to handle the interviewing. She read people. Tenants weren\u2019t as much trouble when she was making the calls.<\/p>\n
He turned in the doorway, scanned the yard, all mud holes and tire trenches, and beyond that acres of woods. That\u2019s why he\u2019d bought the place as a young man. Cheap land, and he just needed enough room to rest when he got off work. The square-footage provided plenty of space until he met Carolyn.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll just raise the rent this time. Get somebody that\u2019ll take care of the place,\u201d Phil said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, we\u2019ll see,\u201d Gus said and began tearing down the battered wall. \u201cYou\u2019re going to have to replace at least two panels.\u201d
\n<\/p>\n
Once Phil got the place clean and protected from the weather, he placed an ad. 1br\/1ba, Single Occupant Only NO MORE, Private Property, No Neighbors, 800mo. The ad cost more than others he\u2019d run, but it got his point across. He more than doubled the rent, and two months passed before he got the first call.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m calling about the place for rent,\u201d the caller said. He had a raspy, high-pitched voice, thin, not effeminate.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, sir, got some questions for you,\u201d Phil said. \u201cGot a wife or girlfriend?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNeither.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGot kids?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about family members?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe haven\u2019t seen each other in a long time. Our kind likes to keep our own territory.\u201d<\/p>\n
That stuck a tack in Phil\u2019s nose. \u201cYou ain\u2019t part of a gang or something?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, I just need a place to sleep and eat.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo long term visitors?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI get a lot of visitors, but you will never know they were there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, we might be able to do business,\u201d Phil said. \u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEric Nedd.\u201d<\/p>\n
They made an appointment, the caller asked for landmarks instead of street directions. \u201cIt\u2019s west, a few miles outside of town. Look for the rusted-out blue water tower. There\u2019s a narrow gravel road shrouded by trees that runs right behind it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Phil though of calling Gus, but didn\u2019t want to jinx it. Gus and him had been friends since Carolyn had begun her decline. Her dementia took hold fast, and Phil resorted to placing her in a home. He visited twice a day. In the mornings he\u2019d stop at the breakfast diner in town where all the old men and utility guys began their day. That\u2019s where he met Gus. <\/p>\n
He\u2019d kept Phil company through Carolyn\u2019s last years, checked-in on him, and helped him with the property and new tenants. Having a young person around sure made things easier, even being alone, but there was no replacing his Carolyn. <\/p>\n
That night, he laid his hand on her empty pillow, the way he\u2019d done every night for the past five years. \u201cMight have a good one this time,\u201d he said. \u201cWish you were here to tell me for sure.\u201d He stroked the coarse, threadbare pillowcase, and it pulled him down into sleep.<\/p>\n
Phil sat on a desk chair the last tenants had tossed in the yard. The wind blew just enough to make it chilly. It was quiet. The only car he could hear from this spot would be coming down the gravel road. He listened for one, but it was twenty minutes late.<\/p>\n
A noise came from deep in the woods. Something was approaching. He figured a deer galloped by, but the noise was getting louder, like a storm kicking-up. The sky looked mostly clear. The treetops in the distance moved in a single line toward him. He stood and headed for his truck. Something moved in the darkness on the threshold of the forest. <\/p>\n
Two tallow trees bent forward and a giant spider emerged. Phil clenched up like a crimp on a pipe. <\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Kemp,\u201d the spider said in the same raspy, high-pitched voice from the phone. <\/p>\n
Phil\u2019s hose crimp failed and filled his pants. He backed against the door to the house, and felt for the knob. Locked. The spider\u2019s deep red body absorbed the light around it. Thick grey hairs sprouted down its legs and back. <\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t be afraid,\u201d it said and crawled forward until it\u2019s full size was out of the woods. \u201cI won\u2019t hurt you, as long as you work with me on this place.\u201d<\/p>\n
Phil could see his reflection in the beast\u2019s eight black orbs, each as big as his head. He thought about reaching for his keys. If it was anything like the spiders he\u2019d killed in his kitchen sink, it would move too fast for him to get in the house.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d Phil said.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust a place to sleep and eat,\u201d the spider said. Its pincers twitched just a few feet from Phil\u2019s head. It sank its fat abdomen to the ground. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll get your rent every month. Just have to keep the ad running.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat if I say no?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI could eat you,\u201d it said, its pincers moving rapidly. \u201cI would prefer to keep you involved, though.\u201d<\/p>\n
When it came to saying no, Phil couldn\u2019t even fight humans. He always felt powerless, weak. Tenants seemed bigger, more important, like Phil should feel bad for owning the property. How dare he charge someone money to live there? But the spider added on that last bit. Involved. <\/p>\n
Phil didn\u2019t want to be involved with anything the spider had going on. Bullied again. He couldn\u2019t do much about it. Maybe he\u2019d be able to get rid of the spider later. Killing seemed as impossible as the creature\u2019s existence had five minutes ago. There wasn\u2019t a shoe big enough for the job.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy do I have to keep running the ad?\u201d<\/p>\n
Clicking came from somewhere in the darkness under the spider\u2019s eyes. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll never have to know or worry about it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Phil thought about Carolyn, how she could see through people\u2019s ruse: dressed in their best, wearing a sincere smile, making promises about keeping the place clean, and never being any trouble. \u201cRent will never be a problem.\u201d Until it was. \u201cI\u2019ll always be on time.\u201d Until they weren\u2019t. Carolyn knew the lies under the surface. She could pick out their sales tags stuck under collars or up sleeves so clothes could be returned later. But here was this beast, no Sunday-best or mouth to fake a smile. It had nothing to hide behind. Phil didn\u2019t have much choice. <\/p>\n
For once he was thankful for Carolyn\u2019s absence. She wouldn\u2019t have to watch him make a deal with a monster.<\/p>\n
That night, Phil took a long shower while thinking about setting the place on fire, but he figured the creature would escape. Even if he just ignored the place, didn\u2019t keep the ad, he had a feeling the spider would find him. Phil crawled in bed and laid his hand on Carolyn\u2019s pillow. The rough fabric didn\u2019t provide any comfort. \u201cIt would have killed me,\u201d he said. \u201cWhat could I do?\u201d<\/p>\n
The following week he called the newspaper to lower the rent and change the contact number. He had to get a phone installed for the spider. <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll handle the calls,\u201d it had said. \u201cI\u2019ve been doing this for a long time.\u201d The less he had to do with it the better, but the thought of it all shook him up. That the spider knew how to approach it all, its confidence it wouldn\u2019t get caught, made Phil wonder what else in the world he didn\u2019t know about. He thought back to their phone conversation. The spider said he had family all over the globe. Phil couldn\u2019t fathom it.<\/p>\n
He reconciled with himself that the spider served a purpose. All those people that had come before, the ones who\u2019d taken advantage of him and left him messes to clean up, he was sending that trash for the spider to take care of. It was a public service for other landlords.<\/p>\n
For two years Phil kept up with the newspaper ad. Every month, he\u2019d park his truck by the mailbox at the main road. He worried the spider would mistake him for a stranger. He\u2019d cleanout the junk mail posted to tenants who hadn\u2019t lived there in years. The spider left the rent in a web cocoon under the mailbox. He kept the money in a shoebox under his bed. The cocoon\u2019s coarse, sticky sinews, like cotton candy mixed with sand, rubbed his fingers raw. The stain on his skin lasted for days. <\/p>\n
Each time it hurt worse, as though wearing down his defenses. He\u2019d long since stopped stroking Carolyn\u2019s pillow. It no longer brought him comfort. The frayed fabric reminded him too much of the web. Carolyn wouldn\u2019t want him touching her anyway.<\/p>\n
Only once, Gus called and asked if the place was still available. <\/p>\n
\u201cNaw, I gave-up on that place,\u201d Phil said.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy cousin\u2019s daughter is looking for a place,\u201d Gus said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m done with it.\u201d Phil said. \u201cJust let it be.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll take care of it if she makes a mess.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStay out of it, damn it,\u201d Phil said, getting angry. Gus wouldn\u2019t understand any other way, and he couldn\u2019t tell him the truth. \u201cI\u2019m done worrying about that place.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cAlright, Phil,\u201d Gus said. His voice had changed, as though Phil could hear their age difference. \u201cJust trying to help.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cThank you,\u201d Phil said. He\u2019d never yelled, or even raised his voice to Gus. It hurt. \u201cI\u2019m just getting too old to deal with any of it and I won\u2019t be depending on anyone else to deal with it either.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand ya, Phil,\u201d Gus said, clearing his throat. \u201cShe\u2019ll have to find another place. She\u2019d probably wreck it anyhow.\u201d<\/p>\n
After that call, Phil worked on plans to rid himself of the creature. <\/p>\n
He\u2019d thought about cutting through the water tower\u2019s legs, let it fall on the house, but the spider would probably hear him working. Sometimes he settled on fire, again, but couldn\u2019t bring himself to try. It was funny, not in any comical way, that he wanted the spider gone. He\u2019d been looking for a single occupant, someone that would pay the rent on time. <\/p>\n
The spider never bothered him, paid every month, but the state of the cash worked on Phil the most. Crumpled, tacky, and smelling awful, the bills looked like they\u2019d been decaying: a reminder of why the spider lived there, and what Phil played a part in. <\/p>\n
Phil lost track of how long the spider had been there crouched in its hovel, attacking unsuspecting victims. He couldn\u2019t remember what the house looked like anymore. How ever long the spider had been there, what ever amount of time had passed since he\u2019d yelled at Gus, they\u2019d never discussed it again. <\/p>\n
Near the end of fall, Gus visited Phil with a friend. They didn\u2019t stay long, and just shot the shit. Phil had heard the man\u2019s name before, but couldn\u2019t remember from where. <\/p>\n
Two days later, Gus\u2019s wife called. \u201cYou seen Gus, Phil?<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, he came by yesterday with some fellow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re the last person I could think to call. You might be the last one to see him and that real estate guy,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
Phil\u2019s body went limp and cold; he could barely keep a grip on the phone. \u201cI see, did he say what they were doing that day?\u201d he said. <\/p>\n
\u201cNo, his secretary said his calendar says Kent property, but they don\u2019t have any Kent\u2019s with property on the books.\u201d<\/p>\n
He saw the spider first coming from the forest, and remembered how just about everything in his body had evacuated like a flood. Phil knew it should have said Kemp Property. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Pam,\u201d he said and hung-up the phone. <\/p>\n
Right now his best friend hung, wrapped-up in a cocoon, the spider\u2019s fat, hairy body hunched over him, feeding. If only he\u2019d let that fiend take him that first day, he\u2019d be the one in the cocoon being bled dry. <\/p>\n
He wondered if the spider kept the people alive, or if they died after one bite. It must be a painful process. Long, drawn-out, like wasting away in a demented state. The way Carolyn had wilted, first her mind, then her body. His time had come.<\/p>\n
He gasped for air, fighting to keep his heart pumping. He had one last thing to do.<\/p>\n
Without leaving a note, Phil made his way out to the gravel road. He stopped in town for a can of spray paint. His hands shook as he paid the cashier, couldn\u2019t look the kid in the eyes, or return his \u201cHave a good day.\u201d <\/p>\n
Phil drove down the dirt road a bit, and parked his truck diagonally across the road. Moving his arms in wide sweeps, he painted KEEP OUT from bumper to bumper. <\/p>\n
His feet fought every step. He said, \u201cIt\u2019ll be like touching Carolyn\u2019s pillow.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Phil surveyed the hazard area left by the previous tenants. They\u2019d made the place a rat\u2019s nest of freshly used women\u2019s hygiene products, kitty litter, and dirty dishes. The house was no more than a spider hole: one room for living and cooking, one for showering and sleeping. Phil tried renting to single occupants, but …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2673,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,1088],"tags":[1089],"class_list":["post-7852","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-tcl-11-spring-2014","tag-the-colored-lens-11-spring-2014","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7852","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2673"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7852"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7852\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":139621,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7852\/revisions\/139621"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7852"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7852"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7852"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}