Young man E. comes over to our adult grouping and says, "There's a giant spider over there! It's big an black"
No good can come from being around a black spider so I caution him to leave it alone in case its a Black Widow. He says, "Well, it's giant." He makes a large circle with his forefingers and thumbs but they aren't touching. E says," It's in the street walking over this way." I turn around in my chair and by golly, there it is. . . the big black spider is marching deliberately toward us and its waving its big hairy legs hello at me as I envision it becoming as big as the house rooftop its attached itself to and looking for someone tasty to eat.
We all get out of our chairs and encircle the spider. Some one mentions its probably not deadly and just a local tarantula looking for some place to spend the night. There is a furor around the campsites as every kid aged 2 on up encircles this tarantula . They are curious and amazed at the creature. Not a favorite of mine but I know its not going to eat me but my arachnophobia is kicking in and I just want it to run away. The creature was obviously exhausted waving its front legs around in attack mode and the kids now want to squish it . This isn't even an option for me because I don't want to walk past its remains every day to get to my campsite. One of the kids tosses a pink sandal at it . All the other camp adults are back in their seats but the 12 kids are still encircling the tarantula and the only other adults are me, E's mom, and my friend Matt. I tell Matt I'm going to get something to get the thing out of the road so it isn't squished. Wasn't he the spider expert claiming it wasn't deadly? I turn toward his trailer, spy a child's bucket with darling heart shaped shovel and return. Now I realize this bucket must be for gnomes or mini people and wonder why couldn't Matt splurge and buy his kid a normal sized pail instead of the 4 cup size with the teaspoon shovel? And where is Matt? Where has he gone? I am now the only adult and there is no one to pass the pail to and get the tarantula into it.
I hold my breath, use the teaspoon, okay, micro shovel, and quickly herd the tarantula into the pail where it immediately begins to hoist itself out because its bigger than the pail. I'm certain it was flexing developing biceps at me. This thing is much bigger up close and personal and I was certain it was growing every second it was in my possession . My heart clenched tighter than my teeth and the horror of carrying it 20 feet away and tossing it into the sea of ice plant on the hill felt like time had stopped and soon we would all be a headline in some rag periodical about alien spiders taking over the planet . I am listed as the first fatality in the invasion .
"UNIDENTIFIED SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA WOMAN KILLED IN ATTEMPT TO RESCUE TOTS FROM MONSTOROUS TARANTULA!"
The story describes how My face has been eaten off by the tarantula army and as a lasting horror to me my tombstone asks me to R.I.P with an engraved spider hanging from the P.
Never mind' I tossed Mr. Tarantula far and away and return to our camp inquiring all the adultx, "What the HECK? Where did you all go and why did you leave me alone with a hairy spider and children armed with sticks and plastic silverware?"
Oh. Yeah. They all said no way were they going to mess with that thing -or lamer, "I'm afraid of spiders and creepy crawlers".
Where was Mr. Man in all this? Yes. Where WAS Mr. Man? Somehow he got lost between our camps for an hour before he came back and I suspect he was napping! HE actually likes tarantulas.
Mr. Tarantula scurried away never to be seen again. Now I've learned, those things can jump 4 feet high, can be territorial and rush at you.
My career as spider wrangler is over. NO THANK YOU!
You are so BRAVE!!
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