Sometimes the local weatherman tells me what to do. In his firm and reassuring speaking voice he might tell me to shower when I’ve not bathed for a few days. Occasionally he’ll remind me I need to eat, or rather that I need to eat at least one vegetable in a day. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him. It’s strange when I see him on TV rather than in in my room but I appreciate seeing him nevertheless. I do know it’s not really him that’s here and speaking to me - I’m not crazy. Well, not that crazy. I know that he is just a manifestation of my disorder. That’s reassuring right, that I know that. Steve the weatherman has only been a positive force in my life. Until recently anyway.
2 days ago on Saturday he was standing next to my sofa as usual, staring at the wall. This is a common position for Steve. He started to hum, which certainly is not usual. Listening for a minute I realised he was humming “The Itsy Bitsy Spider”. I asked him why but he just kept humming.
I carried on with my evening but I have say for this first time Steve was really starting to annoy me, you’d be annoyed too after 7 hours of nursery rhyme tunes. Around 11pm while I was mindlessly watch Bob’s Burgers before bedtime, my typical ritual, it started to rain. The rain was light and misty, not the kind of rain that would ruin a football match, but enough to spoil a barbecue.
I woke Sunday morning to the sound of heavier rainfall, the kind of pleasing white noise you would find on a meditation app. Thick blobs of water thumped against my window with a pleasant persistence. I pottered around the house in a lazy fashion befitting a rainy weekend. I washed my clothes, prepared some food for the coming week and re-arranged my bookshelf. It wasn’t until later that evening I noticed water seeping in under the front door. Of course I was concerned, I knew the consequences of living somewhat near to the local river, but I didn’t panic. I picked up a few towels from the bathroom and formed a small dam to block the flow of water.
The rain continued, it was approaching 24hrs of non-stop precipitation now and it seemed to be heavier still. I decided to shower and resigned myself to an early night given I didn’t fancy going out in the rain. Standing under the shower I saw a tiny spider on the wall. As soon as I had spotted him the poor creature was swept away in the water and was washed down into the drain. I finished rinsing my hair and stepped out onto the soft bath mat and dried myself. A loud gurgling noise from my right startled me and I turned to look at the toilet. A trickle of water started pouring down the sides, the bubbling and gurgling noise grew louder. Shocked I did nothing but stand and watch. The toilet seat started to bounce, water was now forcing it up and the flow showed no sign of stopping. Now I did start to panic, what would I do if my house flooded. Like a truly grown adult I wondered whether my insurance would cover flood damage. I could think of nothing do other than my earlier solution of stuffing towels into the problem. I even took off my towel to add to the barricade. Several little spiders appeared in a stream coming from the toilet and floated in the growing water on the floor. I’m not scared of spiders, but I’m certainly not a fan of theirs.
Steve appeared in the corner of the bathroom. Truly taunting me this time he resumed humming, only now he was staring right at me. “I get it Steve, thanks for the heads up” I said. He showed no sign of understanding and continued his merry tune. Suddenly I worried what may be happening in the living room given the signs of flooding from my toilet. Still naked I ran through the house. As I stepped into the living room the floor was black and crawling with spiders. I didn’t take one step into room as that would have meant standing on them, among them. Fear and repulsion hit many stomach and it started to cramp. How the fuck did some many spiders get into my living room. Millions of legs was scrambling across the floor, across each other. I decided I wasn’t able to deal with this and stepped back to close the door. This would be a problem for later I decided. Denial is a wonderful too.
Steve was no longer humming, he was muttering the lyrics, getting louder with each repetition. “..down came the rain and washed the spider out” Steve continued. I went back to the bathroom and found the same flood of spiders pouring in through the toilet. The floor must have been several centimetres thick with the creatures now. Again panic and dissociation won and I closed the door.
Like a child I wrapped myself up in my bed, eyes fixed on the door waiting for the spiders to spill over into my room. The rain sounded like hail outside and thunder started to punctuate my heavy breathing. I don’t know how long I sat there, paralysed by fear. Somehow I think I even slept with my eyes open and eventually I was brought back to consciousness by strong rays of sunlight coming in through my bedroom window. I unfurled myself and tiptoed to the living room. It was completely empty. No spiders, no sign of water or even water damage. I checked the bathroom next and found a perfectly boring scene. No spiders.
I sat on the sofa in complete disbelief. Steve had resumed his usual position standing alongside. I looked to him and asked “were those spiders real?”. He didn’t answer. He just started humming. I didn’t recognise this one, well, not until I heard a fly buzzing across the room. He was humming “There was an old lady who swallowed a fly”.