Spider Bite

This essay perhaps isn’t what you think it is about. Truth is, I MAY have eaten a spider. Please, dear reader, don’t be too alarmed. And don’t fret for my well-being. This was a little over a week ago, so I have passed the 7 day incubation period for turning into Spiderman.

It happened while picking blackberries at the Soderberg Farm and Chicken Resort. It happened in the midst of liberating the great, near-bursting Brazos Blackberries from amongst the thorns and tangle where they were imprisoned. Had they remained there, they would surely have been pecked by mockingbirds, stung by stinkbugs or webbed up by spiders. I know that there are spiders that frequent the berry vines because of the housing projects that they build.

I was pulling berries in a focused frenzy when one berry in particular appeared to be too close to self-juicing, so I reflexively popped it in my greedy mouth. On it’s way to my gaping maw, I subconsciously noticed a gossamer thread leading from the back side of the berry to somewhere deep within the thicket of tangled thorns and twisted canes. It was too late to stop, even with the alert bells clanging; the inevitable outcome came to culmination. The threshold of teeth was crossed, and even as my right hand tried to catch the spider web that trailed from my mouth, I bit the juicy berry and flooded my mouth with the sweet nectar.

There was another sensation, however, that I noticed in my mouth. I thought that perhaps it could be the suggestion that the spider web was in there trying to rescue the berry. But this had the feeling of being bigger than a single strand of silk. Maybe it was a small wad of it. It was possible, however, that it was the original source of the silk, because it was sticking to the back of my throat. I swallowed the berry, and then made the sound of one trying to dislodge a fish bone from the throat. That didn’t work. I repeated the sound, and that’s when the mental picture came to me.

I imagined a small arachnid clinging to my tonsil, too afraid of the teeth and tongue to even bite. This picture caused me to repeat the “dislodge sequence” followed by a couple of purple expectorations. To no avail.

I decided not to panic, and took a common sense remedy that I felt sure that any old timer would suggest; I ate three or four more berries. Eventually, this tactic must have had the desired effect, because after the last one, I no longer detected any passengers, real, imagined or webbed.

This past Sunday when I picked more of the sweet treasures, I took a second or two longer to give at least a cursory review of the exterior of the berries I ate.

I take solace in the fact that at least the spider wasn’t living in my ear.