The Itsy Bitsy Spider
In her twenty-eight years of life, there were only two things that Deirdre Lowell ever truly hated. First and foremost, it was the spider. From the supposedly harmless daddy longlegs to the repulsive-looking tarantulas to the deadly black widow, no matter their size, she hated them all. Deirdre had suffered from arachnophobia since she was a little girl, and the mere mention of one of those eight-legged creatures literally made her skin crawl. The second object of her unreasonable hatred was her four-year-old stepson, Elijah James Lowell.
Deirdre met Adam Lowell, the boy's father, only three months before his first wife was killed in a tragic automobile accident. A successful, overworked attorney, Adam had been in desperate need of someone to fill in for his secretary who was out on a medical leave of absence. In response to the attorney's urgent call for help, the employment agency sent Deirdre to fill the temporary opening. She proved to be a godsend. Adam found in Deirdre not only an excellent secretary but also an understanding and helpful friend.
In the enlightened times of women's liberation and sexual harassment lawsuits, when a secretary—or, the more politically correct term, administrative assistant—took it as a personal insult if she was asked to get coffee for her boss, Deirdre was willing to bend over backward to help Adam through his busy workday. Not only was she willing to fetch coffee, but she would also voluntarily get his lunch, put gas in his car and run any errands that Adam's wife, kept busy by their active toddler, could not fit into her busy schedule.
In just a few weeks' time, Adam began to rely so heavily on his temp that he worried about what he would do when his permanent secretary came back from her leave of absence. Bernadette, although an exceptional employee in every other sense, had never offered to perform the more menial tasks that Deirdre was willing to take on. The temporary secretary had spoiled him, he knew, and he wanted her to continue spoiling him. Perhaps he would offer Deirdre a permanent, full-time position in his law office. However, the clerical workload, though heavy, did not justify his having two full-time administrative assistants. The best he could do was give Deirdre part-time work.
As fate would have it, Adam never had the opportunity to offer her the job. One evening while driving home from grocery shopping, his wife lost control of her car and went off the Western Avenue Bridge. Although rescue and recovery teams were eventually able to pull the wrecked Mustang convertible out of the Blynman Canal, the young mother's body was never found, and it was assumed that it had been washed out to sea.
Adam, so commanding and competent in a courtroom, was utterly lost when faced with having to manage his personal and social life after the death of his wife. Overwhelmed by all his newfound responsibilities, the widowed lawyer sunk into a deep depression and had to seek professional counseling to cope with his grief.
Like an angel of mercy descended from heaven, Deirdre Lowell stepped in and took firm hold of the reins to Adam's rapidly unraveling existence. It was an uncommon display of devotion and self-sacrifice. Her every waking thought seemed to be of Adam's wellbeing. Was he eating properly? Did he get enough sleep? Was he taking his medication? In his time of unbearable sorrow, Adam found Deirdre his greatest source of comfort, so much so that only seven months after his wife was declared legally dead, the two were married.
While it was true that the grief-stricken widower did not harbor any great love or burning passion for his second wife, he did feel friendship, brotherly affection and a deep sense of gratitude. On her part, Deirdre sincerely loved Adam and was willing to be patient, convinced that with time he would grow to love her in return. Not wanting to upset him any further than he already was, she made a solemn vow never to speak of either his deceased first wife or the accident that had taken her life. In fact, she would ask no questions or say nothing at all to him to call attention to his previous marriage.
Since Adam's regular secretary, Bernadette, had returned to work and was more than capable of handling things at the law office, the new Mrs. Lowell was free to devote all her time to running Adam's enormous house. Descended from a line of wealthy New England shipbuilders, Adam had inherited the family home in Gloucester, a rambling four-story mansion that required a good deal of time and energy to maintain. Although Deirdre did not have to perform any of the menial, day-to-day housekeeping tasks herself, she readily assumed the responsibility for overseeing the cook, maid, gardener and various handymen who saw to the actual upkeep of the Lowell home.
It was not until three days after moving into the waterfront property on Drumhack Road that she met young Elijah. It surprised Deirdre when she first encountered the child on the landing of the third-floor staircase. After the death of his wife, the widower never mentioned his son. She assumed that the boy must have been a painful reminder of all that Adam had lost and, as such, he had been sent away to live with relatives, perhaps his maternal grandparents. She had no idea the boy had been living in the house all along.
"Hello. You must be Elijah," she said, smiling at the somber four-year-old. "You're as quiet as a mouse. I didn't even know you were living here. Where have you been hiding these past few days?"
"In the nursery upstairs," he replied respectfully. "I live there all by myself since my mommy went away."
"You do? That doesn't sound like any fun. Why don't you come downstairs with me? We can watch cartoons on television, or you could help me bake cookies. Or would you rather I went upstairs with you?"
"I don't want to spend time with you, upstairs or downstairs. You're not my mommy, and I don't like you."
How dare the little boy speak to her in such a fashion? Whether he was grieving or not, Deirdre was not about to put up with his behavior!
"That's not a very nice thing to say. I'm your stepmother, and I think you should apologize to me right now."
The young child stared at Deirdre and defiantly remained silent, making his stepmother feel acutely uncomfortable.
Finally, Elijah turned and ascended the staircase, softly singing, "The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout."
What a rude little boy! Deirdre thought after Elijah turned the corner, entered the nursery at the top of the stairs and slammed the door behind him.
Perhaps his mother had been too lenient with him. Well, things would certainly change now that she was in charge! She was not about to tolerate any insolence. Angrily, she went up the stairs after the child, intending to firmly chastise him, but as she put her hand on the doorknob, a spider crawled out from beneath the nursery door. Although the spider was not quite an inch wide, it was large enough to send Deirdre quickly retreating down the stairs.
The boy's punishment would just have to wait. Besides, there would be other opportunities to deal with Elijah.
* * *
Despite the fact that he had been married only a short while, Adam spent a great deal of time at his office. His caseload had piled up while he and Deirdre were on their two-week-long honeymoon in London and Paris, and consequently, he had to work long hours to catch up. Meanwhile, his wife was kept busy at home. In addition to redecorating several of the outdated rooms in the Lowell family home, there was always some new household problem to solve or decision to make.
Deirdre's second encounter with her impertinent four-year-old stepson was as brief and unpleasant as the first. She had just recovered from a particularly nasty migraine headache and was relaxing in a hot bubble bath when the child slowly opened the unlocked door and walked, uninvited, into the bathroom.
"Elijah," Deirdre announced firmly, "in the future, you will knock on a closed door and wait until someone tells you to come in. Do you understand me?"
There was no reply.
"Answer me when I talk to you!"
As glum and as rude as ever, the little boy inquired, "Is it possible to drown in a bathtub? My poor mommy drowned. I miss her very much. But if you were to drown, I'm sure I wouldn't miss you at all."
"You are an extremely naughty child. I don't know how you talked to your mother, but you're not going to speak to me that way. Even if I have to put you over my knee and spank you, you're going to learn respect and discipline."
Apparently, Deirdre's threats of physical punishment did not frighten Elijah, for he simply turned around and left the room.
"The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout," he sang. "Down came the rain and washed the spider out."
When her stepson slammed the bathroom door behind him, Deirdre, whose migraine headache had returned with a vengeance, stood up and reached for her terrycloth robe. As she did, a spider crawled out from underneath it and quickly scurried off toward the shelter of the heating register. This spider was somewhat larger than the one she had previously seen, a fact that made the arachnophobic young woman tremble with fear. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle a scream.
Another spider? Does that obnoxious little brat have a collection of trained spiders that come and go at his beck and call? he wondered.
Deirdre realized how absurd the idea was, yet how else could one logically explain the fact that both times she saw Elijah he sang that song and a spider appeared? Of course, she reasoned, a house as old and as large as Adam's was bound to have a fair amount of spiders.
Later that afternoon, Deirdre placed a call to a local exterminator.
There! That should take care of the spider problem, she thought optimistically after the pest control man left.
Unfortunately, it did not.
* * *
Soon Deirdre started having difficulty sleeping. Almost every night her dreams were haunted by spiders of every size and variety. Suffering from lack of sleep, she was often irritable, nervous and jumpy during the day. Adam, as usual, was lost in his own world of grief and self-pity and failed to see the changes occurring in his wife. He took no notice of the dark circles beneath her eyes or of her sudden weight loss.
Over the following weeks, Deirdre saw very little of her husband and even less of her stepson, which was just fine with her.
Let Elijah stay up in the third-floor nursery, she thought. At least then I'll be spared having to deal with the nasty little monster. Thank God he'll be starting school in September.
* * *
Arriving home after a long, exhausting day of shopping, Deirdre pushed the remote control on the Mercedes' dashboard and opened the garage door. She then pulled in, carefully looking to her right and left, checking to make sure the car cleared the garage doorframe.
Suddenly, she saw Elijah standing in the middle of the garage and had to slam on her brakes to avoid hitting him.
Looking like one of the creepy tots from The Children of the Damned, the boy stared at Deirdre and said, "My mommy had a car accident. That's why she went away. Why don't you have a car accident? Then you'll go away, too."
Deirdre sat in her vehicle, thunderstruck by her stepson's abominable behavior. Did he hate her that much? What had she ever done to him, other than marry his father?
Once again Elijah turned away and started singing as he left the garage.
"The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sun and dried up all the rain."
Seething with rage, Deirdre got out of the car and slammed the door. Her anger quickly turned to fear, however, when out of the corner of the garage, from behind the snow shovels and lawn rakes, emerged a spider the size of a man's first. She was so horrified by the sight of the creature that she did not even attempt to stifle her scream.
* * *
After that terrifying experience, Deirdre began to imagine spiders everywhere she went. Every shadow seemed to have eight legs. She could almost feel them crawling on her. Her nerves were getting worse, too. Worst of all, she began to lose patience with Adam, who was always moping around, never smiling, never laughing.
He's a grown man; for Christ's sake! When is he going to start acting like one? she wondered.
She honestly did not know how much more she could take of him or his son. Soon she would have to confront Adam about young Elijah's inappropriate behavior.
Then one day Deirdre felt another migraine coming on, so she went upstairs to her room and lay down on the bed. For the first time in weeks, she had no difficulty drifting off to dreamless slumber. The sound of a slamming door woke her up.
"Who's there?"
She raised her aching head from the pillow and turned toward the direction of the bedroom door. There stood Elijah at the foot of her bed insolently staring at her.
"It's not safe to fall asleep," he said eerily. "I fell asleep on the back seat of Mommy's car, and when I woke up the car was in the water."
"You weren't in that car, you little liar," Deirdre argued. "Your mother was alone when the accident happened."
"Mommy never went shopping without me. She always took me to McDonald's before we came home. But that night we never made it home. Someone hit Mommy's car from behind, and she went off the bridge."
"You couldn't possibly know that," Deirdre screamed. "You weren't there. If you were, I would have seen you."
"You didn't see me, but I saw you. You were riding in the car behind us. You were the one who pushed Mommy's car over the bridge."
Deirdre had to think quickly. Maybe she could arrange for Elijah to have an accident, too. After all, he was always going up and down those third-floor stairs. Who would suspect her if her stepson should accidentally fall?
Before she could act on her hastily formed plan, Elijah smiled and started singing.
"The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sun and dried up all the rain. And the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again."
The door to the walk-in closet slowly opened, and out came a tarantula the size of a basketball. Deirdre ran to the bedroom door, but she was unable to open it. Frantically she yanked at the handle and pounded on the door, screaming for help. The spider, growing larger as it moved, inched closer and closer, as Elijah began singing that awful song again.
"You little bastard! You're doing this. Make it go away, or I'll kill you just like I killed your mother!"
She reached for the boy, but he vanished into thin air. All that remained was a small puddle of water on the floor. No wonder her beloved Adam had nearly lost his mind with grief. Deirdre had killed not only his wife but also his son when she pushed the Mustang off the Western Avenue Bridge into the cold water of the canal.
All that time it had been Elijah's ghost who had been taunting her, driving her to the brink of madness. But it was not Elijah's ghost that had finally succeeded in scaring Deirdre to death. It was the ghastly spider that inexplicably grew to the size of a full-grown Saint Bernard.
* * *
The same day that Deirdre Lowell died of fright in her husband's family home in Gloucester, Massachusetts, the bodies of a young woman and a small boy washed up on Wingaersheek Beach, not far from the Western Avenue Bridge. The corpses were identified as those of Katherine Lowell and her four-year-old son, Elijah. The boy, whose body was lovingly encircled by his mother's arms, was still clutching his favorite toy: a large, water-logged, stuffed spider.
I don't care if it did follow you home, Salem. That spider can't stay here.
