Me, my parents, my grandparents and my great-grandparents were all born here in Franklin. That means I’ve heard every story that’s ever been told about anyone who ever lived in this town. I know who wrecked whose car, who poisoned whose well, who’s buried in whose backyard and a whole lot more. And not one of those stories ever involved someone having a problem with the giant spiders.
Far back as anyone’s willing to recall, the people in Franklin and the spiders pretty much left each other alone. The spiders never came into town and we didn’t go out there poking in their nests.
Of course there were a few isolated incidents. Once or twice a year some kids from the high school or some drunks would wander out to the nests, get tangled in a web and end up getting sucked dry. But just as often some baby spider would wander into town and get mowed down by a school bus, or a drunk driver or a combination of the two. So it all kinda balanced out. That’s the way it had always been.
But four days ago one of Joel Roundtree’s cows went missing. Now, if it had been five or six cows, Joel would have chalked it up to rustlers. But just one cow, that got Joel pretty riled. It seemed like the sort of thing the high school kids might do as a prank, so Joel caught a few of ’em in the liquor store parking lot and did some interrogating. The kids swore up and down they didn’t know anything about Joel’s stupid cow.
And Joel had already ruled out aliens ’cause there were no crop circles or scorch marks. I know people think aliens carry off cows with levitation beams and transporters, but they don’t. Aliens will always leave a clue when they take a cow.
That left the spiders as the most likely suspects. We’d never known a spider to take a cow, but once Joel ruled out all the impossibilities all we had left was the spiders. He said that’s how Occam’s razor works.
If it’d been my cow, more than likely I’d have saddled my insurance company with the loss. But Joel’s always been a vengeful cuss. The thought of some spider laughing about the cow he’d made off with was not something Joel could abide. So he called a town meeting.
Like always, we met in the high school gym. It and the church are the only rooms in town big enough to hold everybody but the church don’t allow beer inside. Soon as the floor was open for new business Joel commenced to screaming and spitting about the goddamn spiders and what they’d done to his beautiful cow. No one paid him much mind until he told us that once a spider gets a taste for cow, that spider’s gonna come back for more. After that, just about everyone chimed in.
Fiona Watkins told how the spiders caused her back aches and carpal tunnel.
Carter Gibbs claimed the spiders made his wife Doris leave him. (I honestly doubt that there’s any truth to that. He’s just blaming the spiders so he doesn’t have to reflect too deeply on his own behavior.)
Bumpy Tate told how the spiders made him go bald. (Which could be true ’cause none of Bumpy’s male kin suffer from any embarrassing hair loss.)
Cecilia from the bank theorized that the spiders were the cause of all the dropped phone calls and the slow wi-fi.
And Carter piped up again to blame the spiders for burning down his tool shed. (I suspect he accidentally burned his own shed while trying to build a meth lab, but I’ve got no good evidence to support that.)
Randy Patton—he teaches math at the high school—he said it was scientifically impossible for the spiders to do all the things folks were saying. But he sat down and kept his mouth shut after Joel called him a spider lover and told him to go live with the spiders since he loved ’em so much.
After everyone said their piece we put it to a vote. Aside from Randy we were all in agreement; the spiders had to die.
We didn’t bother with a plan. We just figured we’d better get to it before the spiders got wise to what was happening.
I went home to get my twelve-gauge. Mind you, I wasn’t too enthused about killing the spiders; but life doesn’t hand you many lawful opportunities to go wild with a shotgun, and I didn’t want to miss this one.
The spiders didn’t put up much of a fight. They were big as trucks but they behaved just like the tiny ones you find in your bathroom. They mostly ran around scared and confused about why they was dying. I had a lot of fun with my twelve-gauge but I wasn’t even close to being the MVP. Joel had welded a big ass slingshot into the bed of his Silverado and he was launching Molotov cocktails. The way the flames stuck to the spiders I figure he must’ve added some Vaseline to the mix to napalm-it-up a bit.
Fiona Watkins was out there in the Grand Fury she uses for the demolition derby. She was plowing into spiders and snapping their legs like she was in a Mad Max movie.
Bumpy was wearing combat boots, a tank top and dual-wielding a couple of .45s like he was Tomb Raider. He didn’t hit a damn thing but he looked cool as hell.
And Carter was trying to lasso and hog-tie a spider but that didn’t work out so well. He got dragged for a quarter mile before he thought to just let go of the rope. (Honestly, I believe Carter’s lack of sound judgment is largely responsible for his estranged wife and his burnt-up tool shed.)
It took us a little more than an hour to chase all the spiders down and make sure they were dead. And we all slept good that night knowing our cows were safe. But the absence of spiders didn’t bring about the changes folks were hoping for.
Fiona still had her aches and pains. Carter’s wife still didn’t come back. (And she truly shouldn’t.) Bumpy was still bald-headed. And Cecilia from the bank still couldn’t stream her shows without a whole lot of buffering.
But Joel’s cow did turn up. The high school kids he questioned, they were lying. Joel’s cow was stashed over at the Gas ’n’ Go. They posted pictures of her with her head under the hood of an El Camino—looks like she’s checking the oil or something. It’s pretty funny but I’m sure the cow was happy to be back home with Joel.
Three days later both Joel and the cow got eaten by the giant ants. According to Randy the giant spiders had probably been keeping the giant ants away from the town. Kinda wish we’d known that.