Bob the Bubble Gum Spider

By Gary E. Marche

Intrigue, drama, and suspense in a Science Fiction/Fantasy intended as an allegorical misadventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483522098

Book preview

9781483522098

Chapter 1

A community of nearly one-hundred hatchling orb weavers lived safe and protected within a milky white universe. Mere fellowship did not describe their interaction. After molting, they knew one-another quite intimately.

Their world’s silk boundary provided food and one-day Lydia chewed through it. A vast new world lay beyond. She immediately summoned the others. The hatchlings eagerly pored through the breach and spread across the surface of their old world. Unsure what to expect, they huddled. Lydia and Bob, along with a few others, soon began to venture about. The timid lingered, perhaps to be sure of yet another bland meal.

Lydia and Bob crawled along a branch. Smooth bark, a warm gentle breeze, and bright sunshine gave Bob the impression of utter magnificence. When Bob and Lydia reached the end of the branch, they climbed out onto the farthest leaf, then turned and faced the breeze. Tilting their little abdomens upward, they intended to release a silk streamer. Lydia shot skyward while Bob watched. Bob tried to release his silky ribbon but try as he might he could not. He adjusted the tilt of his abdomen. Still, there was no silky strand. He became confused and worried.

His brothers and sisters had followed, even the most hesitant of them. They began to crowd onto his leaf, surrounding him, and then hurrying past. One by one, they launched. As the remaining few took flight, he heard, Bob isn’t flying, from one of them. I’m afraid for Bob, remarked another. Poor, poor Bob, sobbed the last one as it rocketed away.

Bob was humiliated, yet what could he do? If he could not fly, he would do . . . something. He jumped.

He was flying. He stretched out his legs to stabilize himself. A sense of triumph swelled within him. Blue sky and then tall green and brown grasses rotated around him. The tree from which he had jumped grew taller, and then he landed. Unhurt he was sure . . . and now he was free of intolerable sympathy.

There was a complex and unnatural stench and long, thin curly strands obscured his vision. Then the whole place spun round and round, bobbed up and down, and moved faster and faster.

Peering through the horrid, curly mass he could see a very large upright creature moving toward him. The creature grunted loudly. With one of its appendages, it grasped a cluster of color-topped grasses and swung it at him. There was a deafening thud.

Unhurt, Bob jumped again, and this time very hard. As he fell away, he could see the two creatures. They were circling each other and springing up and down. Then, they both turned and hurried away.

He landed softly, almost unnoticeably, onto something yellow, soft, and gooey. He kept his legs spread wide to avoid getting bogged down. A huge buzzing creature zoomed in and hovered. Seized by fear, he scrambled across the soft goo and then under the first thing he could find. It was a large, flat, white thing. Identical flat white things curved away on each side. He seemed safe enough and decided to stay put.

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Melinda’s web stood apart from the cluster of webs that comprised the inter-web network. The few males wandering into the area around her web more often than not ended up there. Roark had come to Melinda’s web early that spring and was the father of the baby spiders. Perry, persistently nosy and officious, had arrived next. He professed to be looking out for Melinda and her web, but that was of course Roark’s job, and Roark did not appreciate Perry’s endless meddling. Later that summer, Denny discovered Melinda’s web. Melinda found Denny to be impulsive and unreliable and did not consider him a worthy mating partner. This was a happy circumstance for Perry who now felt superior to at least one other spider on the web. Joe, the last to find Melinda’s web had only recently secured a place on its outer edge. With egg sack emergence imminent, Melinda was naming her hatchlings and had no time to learn about Joe.

Melinda swelled with pride when one of the tiny spiders began tearing through the outer most layer of the egg sack. They were already fully independent hunters and she knew they would soon fly away in order to make new webs of their own.

As the last of the little spiders started outward along the branch, Perry followed to make sure they all got away safely. Denny and Joe followed Perry. Halfway to the end of the branch, Perry stopped. He turned sideways to let his vibration sensing hairs perceive several very delicate projections.

What’s going on? Denny inquired quietly.

Hmm, not sure yet, replied Perry, slowly crabbing forward. As the three of them crept nearer to the end of the branch, Perry turned to the others and explained, It seems they are worried about Bob . . . um, that one right there. They think he can’t fly.

Humph, declared Denny, starting toward Bob. I’ll finish him.

Perry blocked Denny’s path. No, it’s my job, he asserted. Go and inform Melinda.

Perry turned to go after Bob. Dispatching the hapless little cripple should be easy. Then, just as he was about to pounce, Bob squared his stance and leaped. Perry followed suit. Falling along the same arc, Perry saw where Bob landed. Suddenly the landing site moved. Now far from his target, Perry realized that hunting for the little cripple through this . . . ugh . . . would be insufferable. There was a tremendous whap and he flew into the air. This time he landed right in the middle of what appeared to be a giant, hairless face. It was oily, yet powdery . . . and yikes. He was looking straight into two mammoth eyes.

The giant’s eyes clamped shut and the entire head jerked away from him. Perry tried his best to hang on. An overwhelming blow hit him from behind, the impact ripping away three legs and splitting open his exoskeleton. I’ve . . . been crushed. he gasped, and then died.

Denny and Joe were near enough to perceive Perry’s final projection.

Uh-oh. remarked Denny.

Hmmm . . . , replied Joe. —perhaps we should avoid reporting directly to Melinda. Don’t want to risk a reprisal.

Uh . . . right. agreed Denny.

The two of them sought out Roark who was near the web’s outer edge. Before Joe had the chance to report what had happened, Denny blurted out, Roark, Perry learned that one of the little spiders, Bob, was a cripple. The cripple jumped before we could kill him. Perry went after him but got killed.

Roark never turned to acknowledge Denny so Joe pushed past Denny and went directly in front of Roark. Perry was crushed while complying with an edict. I guess you’ll have to let Melinda know.

Harrumph! exclaimed Roark, turning away in indignation. Then he inquired, "Are you suggesting that Perry did in fact succeed?"

We certainly can’t know that he failed, answered Joe.

We certainly can’t know . . . ah jeez! exclaimed Roark. He headed toward the middle of the web where Melinda was waiting and relayed what had happened, or might have happened, and then looked around for Denny and Joe in case Melinda wished to make further inquiries. He could not see either of them. Probably hiding and too afraid to come out, he presumed.

To Roark’s surprise, Melinda just stared into the distance. Perry is dead? she replied.

What about compliance? Roark insisted. Then rage consumed him as he realized that Melinda was concerned only about Perry. He was glad Perry was dead.

Let’s keep this to ourselves, determined Melinda. Think about the trouble it might bring.

Roark calmed down and considered the implications of Melinda’s decision. They had failed to comply with an edict – the most important one no less. On top of that, Melinda had decided against making a report. Roark was about to protest when it occurred to him that it was after all late in the summer. Hmmm . . . you know, it might be . . ., he replied thoughtfully. —I mean, what’s a violation to us now? The sun is setting more to the south . . . there could be an early frost.

Glad you agree, affirmed Melinda.

But what are we are going to do about Denny and Joe? inquired Roark.

What do you mean? replied Melinda.

Um, just that they seem to have disappeared, answered Roark.

Melinda scanned her web. She had no control over them if they left. Once we find them I may just have to eat them, she remarked.

Huh? Uh, yes . . . um, that is if we manage to find them. I’ll bet they made a run for it, guessed Roark.

But they don’t even know what I’ve decided to do, replied Melinda.

Hmmm . . . yes, but think about it. If you were to report –,

Report what? retorted Melinda. We don’t even know what to report.

Uh, yes, agreed Roark. Hmm, of course if Perry kept us in compliance, then none of us has to worry. If he failed though . . . Ah Jeez, that’s got to be it.

What do you mean? inquired Melinda.

Simple. They know Perry failed, replied Roark. That’s why they’re gone . . . and that vagrant Joe. He deliberately had me thinking just the opposite.

Then let’s hope for an early frost, affirmed Melinda.

Chapter 2

Bob could not guess the buzzing creature’s intentions. He looked around and thought about his options. One thing was clear; jumping would send him into the dark and unknown depths.

Hey you, little spider, I’m down here. Can you see me?

The booming projection came from the depths and it was certainly not from one of his brothers or sisters. He clung tighter to bottom side of the flat white thing. In front of him was a long green thing with several flat broad surfaces that stuck out. His eyes followed it into the darkness. Oh . . . Light glimmered from large round eyes, and the eyes belonged to a gigantic hairy thing.

Ah, you see me then.

He watched the bristly monster straighten long, thick hairy legs in order to fix its gaze onto him.

My name is Alex. What is your name?

As he had with his brothers and sisters, he thought, Uh, Bob. My name is Bob.

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Like the red hourglass on the abdomen of the female black widow that warns of danger, some spider messages consist of simple visual signals. Over time, their interactions evolved to include more elaborate defensive and aggressive body postures as well as a great variety of increasingly complex courtship and mating behaviors, and then a form of thought projection began to develop. Eventually it became sophisticated and panoptic.

Although the mechanics of spider thought projection involves sound waves, spiders do not have ears or vocal chords and they lack the moving mouth parts associated with human speech. The absence of observable movement leads spiders to believe that their communications are telepathic in nature.

As with visual signals and overt behaviors, thought projection of simple vocabulary became innate. Within minutes of hatching, spiders quickly expand their lexicons and become capable of increasingly complex communication exchanges. Bob was already experiencing the rapid development of his lexicon and ability to communicate.

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Do you know how you came by your name, Bob? inquired the bristly monster named Alex.

Hmm . . . well we all knew each other within the silk boundary, thought Bob. How did you get your name Alex?

That’s easy, and something you’d eventually discover. Our mother’s give us our names. Some mothers name their hatchlings just before egg sack emergence. With us wolf spiders, our mothers usually wait until we are riding on her abdomen to give us our names. My full name is Alex of Elisha. Elisha is my mother’s name.

My full name is Bob . . . , of Melinda. Ah-ha, you are right. It’s like I always knew that.

Yes, you see, you’re just learning about things, explained Alex. So tell me, how did you manage to get where you are?

Bob recounted how he and his siblings had left their smaller world through the hole in the boundary, how they went out along the branch, and how he had jumped from the tree. Next, he elaborated about the incredibly large and unstable two-legged creatures that had necessitated his second jump.

Alex had assumed that the hatchling flew onto the flower so Bob’s account aroused his concern. I see, that’s quite a story, he replied. Would you mind explaining why you jumped from the tree?

Um well . . . uh, it seemed like the thing to do at the time, answered Bob.

Unsatisfied with the hatchling’s response, Alex tried a different approach. I am a wolf spider, Bob. Do you know what kind of spider you are?

Um, actually no I don’t. Should I? retorted the tiny orb weaver.

Good question. Hmm, I suppose it depends on how much time you spent communicating with your mother and what your mother told you before you went off on your own, replied Alex.

I, uh . . . well, I don’t remember being taught, mm . . . no, just my name, responded Bob.

From your looks, hmm, ah yes, you’re an orb-weaver, decided Alex.

Alright then, I’m an orb weaver – so? came the suspicious reply.

Oh, nothing really, it’s just that instead of flying, um, something orb weavers would normally do, you jumped, that’s all, explained the giant wolf spider.

Bob sighed, It’s because I couldn’t release any silk . . . I couldn’t fly. That’s why I jumped.

Ah, I see. Well that is okay . . . at least with me anyway, replied Alex. Not being able to release silk does mean you will not be able to fly or spin a web. The consequences of that are of course quite significant, and in more ways than you might think. In the meantime, why don’t I go and get us something to eat, you hungry?

Oh yeah, I could eat all right, answered Bob.

At that, the monstrous spider vanished into the dark. It seemed to Bob that running into Alex was a good thing. If he could learn enough from him, perhaps he could get by on his own.

Alex had seen the bee hovering over the flower with his motion sensing eyes. Those same eyes had caught sight of the tiny spider when it scooted under the flower petal. The cowering hatchling would obviously not constitute a respectable meal. Befriending it had seemed the more interesting alternative . . . and finding food for the tiny speck was certainly not an imposition.

In addition to his keen eyesight, there were hairs on Alex’s legs that sensed the smallest of vibrations. Other chemosensitive hairs perceived odor. The wolf spider headed downhill to the thicker undergrowth until sound alerted him to possible prey. Functioning like binoculars, his two main eyes located the source. It was a cricket, deep within the thatch and creeping about. Darting forward and giving his prey no time to react, Alex seized the cricket‘s head with his crushing jaws and injected venom.

The venom immediately began the process of external digestion. For spiders, this is essential because they cannot eat solid food. In a short time, the cricket’s exoskeleton would serve as a handy container for a nutritious high-protein drink.

As Alex carried the mangled carcass up the hill to his burrow, he pondered the ramifications of Bob’s predicament. The tiny orb weaver would have to learn a great deal more if he were going to survive.

Alex placed the cricket inside the door. It was time to summon his guest. The flower under which Bob was hiding was just the other side of the big rock that towered over the wolf spider’s burrow. About half way there, Alex sensed the presence of yet another insect. If prey was available, he had to investigate, and sound indicated it was very near. Alex honed in on it with his eyes. It was a cockroach scavenging his rubbish site. Cockroaches were an irresistible challenge because they always tried so hard to get away.

Without the cockroach sensing his presence, the wolf spider stealthily maneuvered into position and crouched low. He raced straight at it. His prey saw him just in time to flee but Alex had the superior speed, grabbed the cockroach from behind, and crushed the life out of it. Next, he carried the envenomed carcass back to his burrow and placed it alongside the cricket. Then he went to get the hatchling.

A moment later Alex projected, Bob, I’m back. I’ve got plenty for us to eat, come on down.

I’ve been getting hungrier ever since you mentioned food, replied Bob as he crawled toward the green stem.

Alex began to realize that once Bob got to the ground it would be difficult for him to keep up. Moreover, the ground would be a dangerous place for such a tiny spider. Bob, when you get down here, hop over and ride, he suggested. If you wedge yourself among my hairs you won’t fall off, and you’ll be able to see a lot better.

Um, okay, came the uncertain reply.

I went ahead and put the insects I caught in my burrow, explained Alex. "I thought we could go there to eat. Will that be all right?

Sure, as long as we get to eat, squeaked Bob.

Bob jumped from the flower stem, but Alex could not tell if the tiny wisp landed. You up there all right? he inquired, and then he noticed that Bob had a distinctive smell.

The wolf spider’s hairs were stiff, thick, and round, but they pointed toward the rear. Straddling them enabled Bob to maintain a secure hold. Yep, let’s go.

Alex proceeded around the large rock and toward a matted straw door held together by strands of silk. The door to his den faced southwest and opening it let in the afternoon sunlight. Hope you’re hungry, projected Alex, proud of the banquet displayed in front of them.

Looking down from atop the wolf spider, Bob could see the two freshly killed insects. He was amazed at how large the cricket and the cockroach were. It struck him that he was defenseless against Alex. You don’t eat spiders do you? he inquired apprehensively.

Ha. You are in no danger, replied Alex. There is plenty of big . . . er, more, um . . . besides, I would not bother to communicate with my prey, and then turn around and try and catch it after I just scared it off. Believe me; you have a lot worse to worry about than me.

Bob let out a tiny sigh of relief.

Let me get to my turn around, instructed Alex, entering his silk lined tunnel with Bob up top. I like to face the entrance. Then you can jump down. I don’t care which insect you eat.

As soon as he could, Bob jumped down and scurried to the far side of the cockroach, and then climbed on top of it. Then the tiny orb weaver began slurping liquefied insides. It tasted wonderful. As he ate, Bob began to think that his silk making problem might be less dire than he thought. Everything seemed to be going well – except for a keen stench that permeated the entire burrow.

With his front two legs, Alex pulled the cricket toward him. He then grabbed it with his pedipalps and began to eat. Communication did not require either of them to stop eating. As he ate, Alex inquired casually, So Bob, how do you think you’ll be able to get by without being able to spin a web or for that matter fly from place to place?

To Bob the answer seemed obvious. Um, I guess I’ll have to find a female orb-weaver and then just share her web.

Ah, good, that’s natural, replied Alex. Then he shifted around uneasily. Still, there are a few other issues, he added. You must understand them or you will not survive.

Bob looked up. Not survive? he replied, insect juice dripping from his mouthparts. What issues?

Alex also stopped eating, looked at the roof of his den and let out a prolonged sigh. Then he fixed his gaze on Bob. Let me start simply, he answered. You see several orb-weaver males usually share a female’s web. You can be sure that those other males will be competing with you to mate with the female. If they find out that you cannot make silk . . . um, it’s likely that they will use that against you.

But how can they? protested Bob. I don’t need to make a web if I’m sharing one. Satisfied with his answer he resumed feeding.

Yes. . . . , sigh. You are of course correct . . . and I agree that things would be much better if they were that simple and straight forward, reflected Alex.

I still don’t see a problem, insisted the stubborn orb weaver.

"The problem is that most orb weavers have pledged their allegiance to an organization called the IOW . . . , the Immaculate Order of the Web," asserted Alex.

What’s that? inquired Bob, looking perplexed. What does this I – O – W have to do with anything?

"It is what’s