The Last Time I Saw Dad He Was Dancing the Tarantella

By I. Elizabeth

A demonic witch moves into the old Ludlow house just across the street from gutsy, twelve year old, Sage Hubbard. She throws a spell on Sage’s arachnaphobic dad and turns him into a tarantula spider. All out of revenge because he accidentally killed her pet tarantula spider with a broom. Sage has to destroy the witch and break the spell in twenty-four hours or her father will remain a tarantula forever. The witch vows to stops Sage by killing the whole family and turning them into spiders in twenty-four hours. Sage has never lost a fight but there is a first time for everything.

• Language: English
• Publisher: I. Elizabeth
• Release date: Aug 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311180902

I. Elizabeth

I thank God for the gift of writing. I am a Reading Specialist and I encourage students to read. My motto is to always leave things better and never make things worse.

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The Last Time I Saw Dad He Was Dancing the Tarantella

I. Elizabeth

Published by I. Elizabeth at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 I. Elizabeth

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The Last Time I Saw Dad He Was Dancing the Tarantella is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the author’s intent.

For J.B.

Exciting Sneak Peek!

Don’t kill it. Donald! Mom shouted to Dad. Don’t kill it!!!

I had never seen Mom so scared she was practically foaming at the mouth. Her face was grey, and lifeless, her wide blue eyes were bulging! Her trembling hands were at her head and she was pulling frantically at her dark slightly greying hair. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen looking down at a big, furry thing. Don’t you kill it Donald! After I pulled my eyes away from Mom, satisfied that she was not ready for a high speed trip to a padded cell, I focused on the thing on the floor. I saw Dad bring down the broom with a hard plop, shattering the back of the largest, most incredible looking spider that I’d ever seen in my entire life.

Oh nooooooo! I yelled. I couldn’t help it! It was a reflex that shot out of my mouth all on its own as I watched the destruction of the mysterious spider. Its back was an Oriental rug, (red, yellow, black, green), as wide as two men’s outstretched hands. Thick, red, yellow, and black legs that were a good foot long each were twitching, tattered, bloody ropes from Dad’s mighty wallop.

You killed it! What part of, ‘Don’t kill it, Donald’, didn’t you understand? My mother asked through clinched teeth. You could have fried an egg on her anger as she stared down at the slaughtered spider at her feet. Green, its eyes were shimmering emeralds. She whispered, brushing three marble sized eyeballs from the hem of her robe. One thin tear raced down Mom’s cheek. She just stood there staring down at the gargantuan pile of blood and guts that darkened our beige linoleum floor. Shimmering emeralds," Mom said again, directing her sad words to Dad.

Dad still had the broom hoisted high in the air. He wasn’t moving at all but standing straight and stiff as if he was playing freeze tag or something stupid like that. The longer that I stared at him the weirder he looked. It suddenly occurred to me DAD WASN’T WEARING ANY CLOTHES! Not one single stitch! He must have charged straight from the bathtub when Mom screamed. Dad was completely covered in fluffy, pink soap bubbles! So that’s why my Double Bubble bottle was always empty.

Why kill? Mom put the question to him again.

But-but-but, you hollered spider like bloody murder! Dad stammered, scratching the top of his see though salt and pepper hair.

Why did you have to kill it, it was as afraid of you as you were of it! Why did you feel the need to kill it? Did you get some strange pleasure from it? It was nothing short of murder in the first degree.

Mom acted as if she was grilling a murderer on the witness stand. Dad had the worst case of arachnophobia on the planet. He killed every spider that he saw. Mom on the other hand wouldn’t even kill a bug if she could help it. Mom was an avid animal activist who even spared gnats.

What in the name of mercy is that thing anyway? I’ve never seen one quite like it. Dad took a small step closer to the slaughtered mass on the floor.

That thing is or shall we say was a tarantula, Dad. I answered him.

It’s still alive, it’s still alive! Lacy yelled as the bright busted bush on the floor began to twitch! We all watched in silence as the colorful blob raised itself to one last courageous stance.

Lu-lu-lu-lu, the spider’s high pitched squeal filled our kitchen and tortured our ears.

It’s talking, Lacy whispered.

Lu------sha, It squeaked one last time then collapsed onto the floor into a quivering pile of guts, veins, eyeballs and legs.

Oh, Dad, it’s suffering! I cannot bear to see any living thing suffer! Lacy wailed and tossed her brilliant black hair over her shoulders in a tragic fashion that even a movie star would envy.

You’ve broken everything inside of the poor thing. There’s only one humane thing that you can do now. Finish it off and be quick, Mom ordered her eyes hard and free of any understanding as she glared at Dad.

Quick Daddy, and hit hard so that you’ll only have to do it once! Lacy commanded.

Yeah Dad snap it up, get him out of his misery! I chided in and dropped down on the stool behind me. I was feeling wobbly and weak in the knees. The swinging broom and the spider innards had gotten me. So many thoughts were racing through my mind. First of all where had a giant spider like that come from? My gosh, it was as big as a Christmas turkey! The spider had large green human eyes! How did it get into our house and what was it trying to tell us about, LU--LU? We would never know, Dad had the swinging broom thing going again! His face was twisted in horror and downright ugly as he brought down the broom with such force that the back door rattled. He watched the splattered mush with strange, serious, eyes. The spider did not move and Dad stepped back and began to breathe again.

It’s over, he mumbled letting the broom drop to the floor. He wiped a heavy spray of sweat from his clammy forehead onto the back of his hand. The thing was wickedly beautiful, for a spider, Dad said and cleared his throat. He looked down at his large, powerful, hands as if he had done something shameful and criminal with them.

It was a pretty, pretty spider. Lacy sniffled. She gave Dad a look that convicted him of unspeakable cruelties and shouted, I hate you for this! I had never known Lacy to shed a tear over any type of hairy critter before. Nope, she was picturing Dad and the old school guys doing the bump at her party; that’s why she was so mad.

The thing might have gotten loose in this house and pumped us full of venom as we lay sleeping in our beds. What if it came here to lay its eggs, have its babies! Dad, shouted. He nervously scratched his head and continued in his own defense. It looked so fierce and aggressive and-------

Tarantula’s are very timid, Dad. They rarely bite and can live to be twenty or more years old in the right environment. I was sorry for my revelation the minute that it left my lips. It only added to Mom and Lacy’s outrage.

Mom just stared down at the broom with blood in her eyes--as if she was going to whack the heck out of Dad with it. I couldn’t help but wonder if she still abhorred violence as much as she did those times when Lacy and I wanted to take a swing at each other.

Your dad snuffed out the life of something that had many good years left with the reckless pounce of a broom.

I-I-I-, Dad spouted. He glanced down at his kill, looking anything but the proud, fearless hunter. I was beginning to feel a little sorry for Dad: he was just standing there, shifting from one big, bare foot to the other----his bubbles fading under Mom and Lacy’s stinging, unforgiving gaze.

I can usually laugh my way out of just about anything. Humor rules! In fact, if I don’t become a famous psychiatrist, I’m going to be a famous comedian. I felt it was worth a try to get Dad out of the hot seat, before he didn’t have any bubbles left.

You should only whack what you’re gonna eat, Dad. I forced out a limp giggle. He is big enough to eat. Y’all grab a fork, nothing like CREAMED SPIDER ON FLOOR! I chided.

You gross, nasty, girl! Lacy squealed and clutched her stomach.

Sage! You’re outrageous! Mom declared in a voice that was so huffy and scratchy it sounded like a hee-hawing donkey. All of us burst into laughter and our laughter was nervous, tight, and strained.

I didn’t care, strained or not we were all laughing again and I was glad. I was about to throw it into third gear, suck in another mouthful of funny, when I noticed the broad, lumpy, form hovering in the dim light of the back doorway. I gasped, causing all eyes to swing to the backdoor.

Ape! Ox! Look what you’ve done! Our new neighbor’s hateful words were meant for Dad. You killed MY SPIDER! You don’t know what you’ve done or ruined! Her small, grass colored eyes became red, glowing slits as she stood there with her wide, angry, face pressed against the door. I curse you with the power of his blood! His tears will be your tears! You will take his place, scorch and blister among the flames! Hear me, I am Lucia Antalina! The ghoulish, demonic woman shook her big fist high in the air. Ella--kella tarantella! She threw a curse straight through our screen door on to Dad. Suddenly she jabbed her hand deep into her apron pocket. We all huddled together; I screamed knowing the hag from Hades wasn’t finished with any of us yet!!

Chapter One

There is so much about my sixteen year old sister Lacy that you do not know!! Oh, why is it that no one ever looks close enough to see her faults? I mean--all I ever hear is, Lacy is soooo beautiful! That’s what I always hear from twelve and thirteen year old friends that happen to be girls. If it happens to be a guy from anywhere in the world with red blood cruising through his veins, this is what I hear, What a babe!!! Wow, what a hottie! Even our pastor said, The heavenly host must have smiled on this one personally. I’m not jealous, really I’m not. Buttttt! I do know Lacy for what she really is and what she really should be called; Queen of the snot blowers. That’s right, Queen of the snot blowers!! She has severe nasal allergies and pops antihistamine every day but still drips like a faucet. Lacy also has to carry hand wipes with her because nose sushi is always plugging up her nose; and she has to discreetly pick with well-manicured nails. As discreet as Lacy is, I see her, no one else does but I do. By the way my name is Sage Hubbard. I’m a red head, twelve, un-gorgeous but I’m definitely brilliant. The brain is all that we have left. You know beauty fades but brilliance always shines.

Just a moment Lacy is talking to