Why Don't You?

You should know that Wolfspider is not just a wolf. He is not just any wolf. He is a shapeshifter. A wild, ferocious, kill-an-innocent-rabbit-in-the-night evil circus ringmaster who prowls about with his eight wolf eyes glowing with blackness so devoid of color you think you’re looking into the eyes of darkness himself.                                                                     

Well, that’s Wolfspider for you. If anyone angers him, he’ll strike a blow so lethal you won’t be able to even know he attacked until you see the poison seeping out of the bite and running down your arm, leg or whatever. You’ll be a fly on the web if you ever dare threaten this performer’s performance. And wolf spiders aren’t even poisonous.

How do I know?      

Because I’m Wolfspider’s assistant. No, not even that.     

My friends and I are his whipping boys. 

I sneak a run over to the stream to wash my grubby face, hands and arms, drying them with my shoe-shining rag. He never goes a day without such shiny shoes—they shine better than anyone else’s shoes. I make them shine, but he brags to his audience, animals and assistants that he, Wolfspider, owns shoes so shiny even the sun proves its admiration with its glistening.                    

Sorry, I’ve used shine so many times.    

Hold on. I hope I didn’t—           

No, he didn’t call me. I’m writing this story beside a brook. The water’s falling waterfall style over a big rock, so it’s a little disruptive. But my master is so angry from having been a whipping boy at an abusive circus that when he is in wolf form, no one dares confront him. Remember how he has these eyes? Well, those eight glare at you, froth dripping from a mouth full of fanglike teeth ready to sink into your flesh like a knife cuts into a cake.               

You see what I mean about his unforgiving hatred? And he doesn’t even give a second thought towards those he’s abused. I was about to hurl a machete right at his monstrous self for threatening to run me over with his train. His animals hiss, stare, intimidate and growl at me, too. 

I was also ready to hightail it out of there, taking my friends with me. Then we’d be free. However, I don’t know if I’ll ever get my freedom. Freedom from this monster of a wolf man spider person whatever he is.               

I once stole a piece of bread right from off his table—under his nose—one night while it rained cats and dogs and booming thunder reigned above us. I was starving, so I begged him for some dinner. He snapped at me to get some from one of the assistants’ broken-down wagons. I obeyed, envying the steak sizzling on a grill all decorated with minced onions and shaved crab and barbecue sauce all drooling off this hunk of glory. Just writing this glorious scene makes my stomach growl and the saliva threaten to drip from my lips!                       

I wish I had someone with whom to share such a glorious meal. I know I keep saying glorious, but I get my hands on one of those wonderful pieces of succulent beauty, I’ll be in heaven. 

Some buddies of mine plan to get our first taste of deliciousness. We’re planning an escape. By train! By his train. We’ll somehow leave in the night, but Robins keeps telling them we’re going to get caught when the train’s engine screams, its smoke billowing into the night. Wolfspider'll be up faster than we’ll be escaping past the trees and highways. Then the cars will highlight us with their headlights. Then we’ll be dead. Or at least wanting to die.      

So I guess we’ll be whipping boys forever. He’ll be our master forever. No escaping for us. No freedom. Just endless slavery.  

I’ve tried escaping several times, but Wolfspider releases his ugly lions, zebras and horses on me. Their vicious growls and nasty snarls always scare me back to the circus grounds. After bending over for hours while Wolfspider cracks my back open with scars reminding me of his punishment for rebels like me, I stand there, watching each boy receive the same blows. Some boy’s spines show, so they scream with pain whenever the whip kisses their backs. One boy grabbed the whip in midair, causing our shocked faces to quickly twist into terror as he challenged Wolfspider to a duel! Baring small fists, this courageous soul was either too stupid to live or too smart for his own good. Either way, he was asking for the ringleader to either eat him alive, whip him harder or make him a late-night snack for the lions.             

He eventually faltered, dropping to his knobby knees, crying that he was only trying to save himself from further slavery. His family back home loved him and wanted him home again. Wolfspider glowered at him, and then made our jaws drop to the sawdust and straw-strewn floor—he simply walked away back into the tent. After everyone shook away such disbelief, the boy muttered to us that this part was the worst—Wolfspider talks to himself about what he is going to do to the rebel.          

However, when the morning sun rose, the boy told me he never so much as received a look from Wolfspider. When he dared to take some bread the next night, Wolfspider grabbed his hand and pried it away, threw it to one of the dogs and held the boy’s head, forcing him to watch the dog chew, swallow and lick its lips. Then he threw him into a chair while he cleaned his plate of steak and broccoli, licking his fork, all the while asking whether the boy wanted anything. When he kept saying no, the ringmaster threw out a laugh and chucked the utensil and plate at him. Cowering, the boy shook and begged the ringmaster to send him back to us, the other whipping boys.   

He ordered him to clean the lion’s pens. The boy went in this direction, but I haven’t heard from him ever again. Some say the lion took care of him. Sometimes, I get so mad at Wolfspider for treating one of us so abominably I even dare to pick up a rock and promise myself this simple element of earth will be the last thing he sees after I smack it against the back of his head. Or we all lift him up and chuck him in his own lion’s pen, somehow tricking the animal into thinking he’s being fed his own daily lunch of chicken and sausage!  

I think he’s still in that cage—

What am I thinking? He’d be eaten by now…

Wait—we’ll tell Wolfspider we spied Robins in the lion’s cage. Then, when he climbs into the stupid thing to beat him for not listening to him, we’ll watch as Robins dashes outside like a robin flittering away from a predator, and watch gleefully as Wolfspider gets trapped in his own lion’s cage! Once the cage is slammed closed, we watch as Wolfspider is the lion’s dinner.        

Oh my goodness. I hope this plan is going to be awesome!

I remember all the times Robins has worn cowardice like a dirty T-shirt and those stained, ripped jeans he’s been slogging away in for the last ten and a half years we’ve served Wolfspider. He’s pretty much a wimp whenever we ask him tough questions. He never answers, just whimpers about his family back home. I mean, I feel bad for the kid, but he’s got to man up one of these days.        

I know, I know. Have you manned up in any way…? You don’t even know my name. It’s Children. Children’s my name. I feel it’s a nickname Wolfspider’s given me. Everyone’s a child to him. He respects no one.             

But I have stood up to him by stealing that piece of bread. At least I had the nerve to swipe it clean from under his nose. I also once clean stole a carton of eggs, a blanket and a frying pan to have my own sunny side-ups!

Wolfspider didn’t say anything to me after he discovered my little party with my friends. He just turned right around, walked back to his tent and slept the rest of the night. We took advantage of this precious piece of freedom by hooting and cheering. Way early in the morning, our campfire died down and we all woke up to the sound of yelling. We got right to work, and by mid-morning had all our chores done. But Wolfspider didn’t care. He slammed the pan about, ordering us to freaking clean everything again. We did, and then he threw the pan away, burned the blanket and threatened to eat one of us like we did those eggs. We didn’t care. We’d be better off dead than with him ruling over us.

I’ve always prided myself on leading such a night! I don’t think Robins could even burp up the courage to do something like that. But I hope he does. Maybe when he’s had enough of Wolfspider’s whip or ugly name-calling that he’ll actually stand on two legs for once.

Maybe he’ll stop being the stupid boy he’s always been.

I know you’re telling me to stop being mean, but I’m tired of his cowardice. His lip trembles constantly, his legs knock together they’re so skinny and his shoulders are like little rocky mountains they’re so bony. He’s like a walking skeleton with its skin still on. Maybe if I tell the other boys to round him up and put him in front of us we’ll all challenge him.

I tried this last night. Every boy looked at me a little like I was Wolfspider. No, they feared me! I’m sick of saying things that aren’t true. They stood there, fear shining through those pitiful eyes. I stood before all of them, telling them this stupid boy named Robins deserved death. He didn’t stand up for himself, and he isn’t going to now. What’s the difference between me and that stupid ringleader?

Everyone’s face frozen. Bodies still. The chilly night seeming to freeze as well as I shiver, swallowing slowly and turning around only to feel every drop of blood drain from my face. Wolfspider was a wolf now—his eight eyes white and piercing my very marrow with complete loathing. I couldn’t move, only swallow. His growling intensified when he bared those evilly sharp fanged teeth. Then I yelled at him to grow up. Those eyes widened in disbelief. Yeah—

I threw myself to the ground when a hand ripped the torn piece of cloth away from me. Then I stood right up, facing my master. He looked right at me, seeing eight sections of me with those creepily spooky eyes. I didn’t tremble; I simply told him to leave us alone.

He sarcastically relented. I didn’t shiver. I stood there, watching him turn around and retreat from me with the story. Then I lunged, grabbing the ripped part of the cloth out of his hand. He kept walking. Good. He could be his own lion’s lunch tonight.   

I ran back to the boys, whispering fiercely about my plan. They all bobbed their heads sarcastically, spitting that I’ll be the brave one. I pursed my lips, having no idea why any of the boys didn’t—

I screamed. Pain searing through my body whipped me around, daring to challenge my master. I charged him, grabbing the whip out of his hand. He let me! Grinning madly, I raised it and snapped it at him. He dodged and then stood there, watching me. Then he shot out a hand and yanked the whip out of my hand. Grabbing a shoulder, he twisted me around and ordered one of the boys to tie my wrists and ankles. They did, and I fell to the grass. Then I screamed all day and night long.

After such a beating, I struggled but strived to crawl to my master’s tent. Animals were being harnessed and trained to obey the whip flinging in their faces as Wolfspider told them they were going to entertain his audience. Some animals obeyed instantly, while others just obeyed. I kept crawling and then found myself being carried backwards! I thrashed, glad my wrists and ankles had been unbound. But the boys slammed my feet down on the sod and straw ground, telling me to be careful.

I wasn’t. I charged over there, and called mockingly over to the ringmaster. While his big, muscled men got the animals and props and sets ready, he walked outside and told me with his finger in his face that he assumed Robins got eaten. Now, he assumed I was going to die from infectious diseases as bugs and other creatures devoured me from the outside in. he retreated back into the circus, bragging he had smacked his bravest whipping boy—no, he whipped his whipping boy! Some assistants laughed out of fear of his wrath, while others laughed meanly.

My anger boiled. I clenched my fists so hard I dashed in there, a crazy kid, and started throwing punches. Some animals went crazy, and Wolfspider ordered them to be tamed. He rounded on me, and I flung a punch towards his face. Then I kicked at him. Standing there with my fists up, I looked around myself, and charged away into the night. Grabbing Robins, we fled the circus, whipping boys and assistants.

Where we were going, we had no idea. Stopping under a sidewalk street light next to a two-lane highway, I told Robins he better beef up, or I’m leaving him. He promised to be more assertive. I hoped.

We camped in an abandoned trailer, pigging out on the refrigerator’s leftovers and cupboard’s snacks. Days went by before anyone saw us. Once we were spotted, we dashed to railroad tracks, a train coming towards us. I saw Wolfspider—he must be going to his next show. I alerted Robins, and we scampered out of there.

Once we were safe, I told him we’d have to stay here. In a hut.

“Can’t we go home?”

Suddenly, a shriek and Robins fell backwards, gasping for air as a knife protruded from his rib. Frantic, I whirled around and screamed for help. Wolfspider, a wicked smile dancing on his ugly face, hurled a dagger right at me. I dodged. Then fell backward, white-hot pain invading my body. 

“Children.”

“Y-yes?” I gasped, looking over at Robins opposite me on the ground.

“I…I’m sorry for such a wimpy a-attitude.”

“Get us out of here, Robins!” I glared at him. 

“I…can’t!”

“See? You’re j-just a f-fool.”

I couldn’t believe we were arguing. He grabbed my hand. “We’re dying, Children. And all you do is say the same stupid stuff as Wolfspider!”  

I thought about his words. Maybe he was right. I told him to stay still and tried getting up. But I cried out, falling back onto the dirt and straw. Saving ourselves was impossible. I told him I couldn’t believe he dared to escape with me.

“I believe you can save us, Children.”

“I guess you are brave. After all, you dared to escape with me.”

Suddenly, hands were covering our wounds with cloth, and then we were lying in a bunk bed. They were dressed with bandages, and we were wrapped in the sheets like a cocoon. I balled my fists, and couldn’t speak to Robins for a whole month I was so mad. Soon, we left the kindly man’s home without so much as a thank you. I had no idea where we were going. Why didn’t Robins say anything? I surprised him by apologizing for my arrogance. He forgave me.

“Now,” I threw him some clean clothes from someone’s laundry basket we saw sitting right outside a small country farmhouse. “These’ll all we got. Besides, we’re here in this countryside town by ourselves. We’re finally free to do whatever we want.”

Robins quickly abandoned the old ones for the new. “Just because we’re free doesn’t mean we can do whatever!”

I ignored him.

After grabbing some towels, we ran until we saw elk, moose, bears and snow. Robins studied his surroundings, totally in awe. “Alaska.” I told him, teeth chattering. We stole some parkas and boots from a man’s truck and donned them before bolting.

“Are those yours?” Someone called from across the parking lot.

“Yes!”

I even felt the grittiness of the lie as it slipped from my mouth. In a Scottish tavern, we talked over tea. Our winter stuff was in sacks we gladly saw lying outside a small cabin somewhere in England. Robins said he’d rather befriend someone like him. I admitted I always wanted to be generous and amiable, not a thief. 

Robins sipped his tea. The next morning, we left Scotland.

Some say Wolfspider got in a horrific train wreck. I heard he just pretended to crash to make us boys think he died. But one boy said someone stole an ice pick from an assistant and plunged it into the master, killing him instantly. No one believed him.

Robins and I do.  

When that weapon dropped from Robins’ hand, we marched away from the dead man with laughter and whoops heard for hopefully miles. Cheers from the other boys rose into the air like smoke billowing out of a train.   

Revenge was sweet.

But sweeter was our knowledge that we—and the other boys—were freed.

Forever. 

His men were aghast that some nobodies named Children and Robins viciously attacked Wolfspider. They kept asking themselves whether the atrocity was real. They shouldn’t be so dreamy. Their master just got attacked permanently by one of the weakest people I have ever known. But someone who I learned to believed in.  

And eventually had come to believe in himself.