Spider

2

Georgetown, South Carolina Sometimes, late at night, when he's teetering on the edge of sleep, his mind soft with secret thoughts and emotions, Spider is able to turn the clock back and return to his favourite time.

The first time.

Right now, with so many exciting things happening to him, he's keen to go back, eager to revisit the moments that have made him what he is.

Lying on his bed, his special bed, the room is dark and his eyes lightly closed. Soon months, years and decades flash by, until it is twenty years ago.

He's in sunny Georgetown, down on the Harbor-walk at the waterfront. A young woman strolls past, happy and carefree. She's slim bodied, dark-haired, respectable and simply dressed in a pink T-shirt, stylishly faded jeans and trainers. It's her week off work and she's chilling out, oblivious to the world, oblivious to the man she's just magnetised to her.

Spider watches her dine, alone.

Watches her go to her apartment above the baker's shop, alone.

And for days he watches her living there, alone.

Alone – and vulnerable. Just as he hoped.

Sarah Kearney never sees him, Spider's very careful about that, so careful he's almost invisible. But he's around. Always there. There, brushing by her in supermarkets, as she grocery shops for one. There, as she queues in the cinema for her solitary seat at the latest romcom. There, as she browses in the bookshop, and finally buys the cookery book, with its special recipes just for one.

The memories are delicious. Spider savours every second of his mental feast. My, oh my, remembering the old ones, especially the first one, is almost as good as planning the new ones, the next one.

But Sarah had been sweet. As sweet as Sugar.

Spider's heart races as he recalls how he followed her in his old Chevy as she caught a bus out to Landsford, a 400-acre state park off US-21 out towards Richburg. He had been his usual invisible self as she'd sauntered around the nineteenth century canals, sat a while near an old lock-keeper's cottage and finally headed out of the crowds to a solitary spot near the Catawba River.

Twenty years later he could still remember every word they'd spoken.

You never forget your first kill. Not a single second of it.

The air had been fresh with pine and grass, the sun hot and high, and Sugar, well Sugar had been sitting sweetly on a carpet of white flowers, cherishing one of the massive spiky blooms in the cup of her hand.

Pretty as a picture.

And then he'd shown himself. Confident and calm, polite and unthreatening. Just like he'd planned. Just like he'd dreamed.

'They're beautiful,' he said, walking confidently towards her. 'What are they?'

For a second she seemed startled, then she spoke up, just like her daddy had taught her. 'Lilies. Rocky Shoals Spider Lilies.' There was a warm drawl in her hesitant voice. A voice he'd craved to hear. A voice he knew he would soon be the last to listen to.

They sat and talked; he made her laugh, flattered her with compliments and even made her blush a little. It was a perfect afternoon. Just as he'd hoped.

They had coffee in the crowded cafe and he told her how he worked as a company auditor, a stuffy job that he hated. He had to come to the park for some space and air.

She knows just what he meant; she loved to be outside too.

When it got to the point where they should go, he'd told her that he'd had a lovely time, in fact he couldn't remember the last time he enjoyed himself so much. She blushed again and said she'd had fun too. It damn near broke his heart that he had to leave, had to deliver some boring accounts to some boring businessmen east of Georgetown.

She looked disappointed. He was sure of that. She'd wanted to spend more time with him, he could remember that clearly. In fact, looking back, it was almost as though she'd picked him, as much as he'd picked her.

Don't people always say that in the end it is always the women who do the choosing?

They'd been together for almost three hours when they finally passed through the park's gates and, looking back now, well it seems incredible, but if truth be known, for a moment he'd thought of not going through with it.

That made him smile.

Not gone through with it? How could he have thought that? My, how things would have been different if he'd simply said goodbye and gone his own way.