Spiderling Twenty-Four turned one of his eight eyes towards his sibling.
One-Thirty-Two sat a short distance away on the edge of the nest, untangling himself from the remains of his cocoon.
They had both hatched a few moments earlier, but Twenty-Four was the older - just.
Twenty-Four turned his attention back to the problem he was trying to solve; how many brothers and sisters he had - too many would mean a crowded nest and Twenty-Four really didn’t fancy that.
He’d just reached the count of one hundred and twenty-nine when he was interrupted.
“What are you doing?”
Now he’d have to start right over. From the beginning. At one.
Twenty-Four started to count again. From the beginning. At one.
He’d reached twelve when another voice cut across his mental calculations.
“He asked what you’re doing,” a sultry voice said.
Twenty-Four sighed deeply, stamping four of his feet. Turning to face his tormentors he stamped the other four for good measure.
“Can’t you see that I’m busy? Go away!”
Turning back to his task, Twenty-Four began again.
One, two, three —
“He’s counting us,” One-Thirty-Two told his companion with an authority belying his young age.
“But why would anyone do that?” was the quick response.
Unable to ignore the conversation taking place behind him, Twenty-Four gave up and walked away, still a little unsteady on his legs.
Okay, so you try walking on eight legs right after hatching and see how steady you are!
Twenty-Four stumbled across the slippery surface of the wheelie bin, the fine hairs on the ends of his eight spindly legs ensuring that he didn’t fall as he groped his way over the edge and began the long trek to the ground.
Wait a minute, he thought.
Looking under his round body, Twenty-Four shook the tiny spinnerets protruding from his rear end, watching as small dollops of sticky web oozed from the tips.
Dabbing the ends of his spinnerets against the green plastic, Twenty-Four squeezed his belly and jumped.
He was half-way to the ground when a breeze slammed him against the side of the bin, halting his dizzying downwards dash. He hung like a limp bundle, twisting slowly on his thread, trying to regain his senses.
Hearing the sound of voices drifting down to him, Twenty-Four looked up, spotting a long line of spiderlings staring down at him from the edge of the bin.
There was much pushing and shoving, laughter and jeering, as they watched Twenty-Four trying to climb back up the side of the bin, constantly slipping off to dangle on the end of his thread again.
“Whoo-hoo, look at the silly spider. He can’t get back up. Ha ha!”
The taunts cut deep into Twenty-Four’s ego and he wondered if he’d ever manage the seemingly impossible climb.
Perhaps he should just drop down to the ground and leave the nest, he considered. No, night was coming and he’d surely die in the cold.
Looking back up, Twenty-Four could see that only one spiderling was left, the rest had disappeared. It looked like the spiderling with the sultry voice, the one who’d been talking with One-Thirty-Two earlier.
Taking a deep breath Twenty-Four started out again, his shaky legs trembling as he scrambled for a foot-hold.
Yes, yes — no.
“Argh!”
The fall slammed him against the side of the bin once more, almost knocking him unconscious.
Twenty-Four was on the verge of giving up.
“Eat your thread!”
The voice whipped away in the wind.
“What? Eat my what?”
“Your thread! Eat your thread!”
Now why hadn’t he thought of that? He couldn’t climbed back up his thread - it was far too sticky - but he could eat it.
Some time later, a little embarrassed and out of breath, Twenty-Four reached the lip of the bin, where he was met by an amused looked from his rescuer.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m Seventeen. Thought you were going to kill yourself down there. What on earth were you trying to do?”
“Get some piece and quiet.”
A look of disappointment flashed across Seventeen’s many eyes and she turned away.
“No wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to —”
Turning back with a smile Seventeen winked at him, slowly, and with much feeling.
Now a spider’s wink is a very special wink, and something wondrous to behold. Spiders wink with all eight eyes, in pairs, back and forth, four times.
And I’m told by someone who knows, that a spider’s wink can enthral a man, so much so, that he will stand like a statue for hours, mouth slack and eyes wide - but that’s another tale.
Next morning, after the sun had heated the air and a gentle breeze provided just the right lift, Twenty-Four, and Seventeen, stood side-by-side on the edge of the wheelie bin, looking up at the clouds.
“Shall we?” Seventeen asked, her voice excited at the thought of what they were about to do.
“Yes let’s. Quick, before the others wake and find us gone. I’m sure mother would try to stop us.”
Together the young spiderlings turned their back to the wind and span out their threads, trailing it out behind them like a kite’s string.
Longer and longer they span them, until the breeze tugged so ferociously that they were almost torn free from their precarious perches.
“Good-bye Twenty-Four, perhaps we’ll meet again.”
“Good-bye Seventeen, thanks for saving me.”
But Seventeen had already gone, her long thread shimmering in the morning light as it carried her away into the sky.
Twenty-Four hesitated for a moment, then hearing a voice shouting from behind him, span out more thread, and in a moment he too was whisked high into the sky.
“Wonder where I’ll end up?” he thought, watching the green wheelie bin growing smaller and smaller.