The skies swam warm and blue as we raced along the treeline at 40 mph. My eyes took it all in; the olive green leaves beginning to cripple in the autumn air, the forest floor sparsely visible between each column of bark blocking my view, and myself- a vague seven year old reflection in the window.

Though the world was in my sight, my mind was elsewhere; stuck in the girl’s public restroom accompanied by a lonesome refugee. One who’s sticklike features destined him to become exposed in a crowd. His nervous eyes dashed to and fro between each of my classmates with shaking legs and jittery hands. His eight legs, each scrawny and malnourished, stretched for inches around his black body- protecting his microscopic heart which was now beating with fear. Mine as well, I recalled, was dancing in anticipation for the spider.  

Without hesitation, I placed my hands on the ground and carefully scooped him up from beneath. A multitude of petrified shrieks arose in the bathroom and with them, a courageous bubble in my stomach. The spider, now ridden of the floor, began to regain his stolen balance on my palm. However, his contemptment was temporary due to the sudden movement of the world around him as I walked beyond the frightened girls to the edge of the hallway where I casually placed my new friend.    

Now, rolling to a stop on the edge of an unrecognised gravel road, I was back in my family’s car- back in my confining seatbelt that prohibited any kind of fun movement. My ears focused on the crinkling map coming undone in the front of our Chevy Malibu.

“It should be right here, Jeffrey.”   

“Well, is it on the map?”

“...somewhere,” she spoke- distracted.

‘Then keep looking. It’s not like it’s made up.”

“Why don't you look then,” she huffed in an anxious tune.

“I’m not looking because i’m driving!’

“Doesn’t seem like it to me.”

His ears reddened as the car was quickly put in drive again and we were back to our bumpy route.

 Moments later, we found ourselves exciting into a dirt laced parking lot which had darkened due to the rain forecast that had now diminished. The land around us was just as before and the skies above still splashed in the sun. I truly felt like one with nature.

Then I opened my door.

And nature greeted me for what felt like the first time.

The once hidden birds came to life through the trees; their songs heard for miles. They were an orchestra of beaks, claws, and feathers yet none were exact replicas of one another. They performed in the welcoming wind that comforted all it brushed by, gently caressing our cheeks.

Birds harmonizing, wind patterns mesmerizing, I greeted my family with dazzled eyes and received glazed ones in return. My sister, a recently titled teenager with overwhelming locks of dirty blonde hair, was entranced by her phone and the boy captured inside. My parents, still bickering to themselves and dragging the heavily packed suitcases out of the trunk, were perfectly in my line of vision while attempting to read the camping grounds’ name.

“Yadkin River Adventures.”

“What’d you say, Sweetie,” My mom addressed me. They both turned in my direction and grew an impish smile across their faces.

“Oh..I was just.. Reading the sign.”

He turned around to focus on it.

“Oh,” he acknowledged. “Cool.”

She nudged him discreetly, yet just visual enough so that I could see it.

I continued to search the wilderness yet my mood had changed and the only lives I could focus on were the Walmart trash bags running in the grass. It seemed as though their childish belittling had me engrossed. Perplexed.

But a child’s mind was proactive and soon on to the next thing.

After gathering ourselves, we found the path to the rental where dozens of boats lay soaked in the vibrant light above, as well as years of being on river. My father, a heavier man that lacked hair yet typically compensated with a dazzling smile, began conversing with the worker. With little business talk, we managed to slip on eye melting lifejackets that too, had aged horrendously. Settling into the crimson canoe, a witty conversation emerged just to dissolve as fast as it had arrived.

“I’ll steer.”

“No, Stephanie, you won’t.”

“You’ve never even done it.”

“It’s the man’s job. I have to do it.”

The worker, stubby and covered in pimples, smiled at this, seeming to agree.

My mother, unamused, backed down.

She shouldn’t have.

The water greeted us, giving the kayak permission to glide through its stillness as we created waves. The world below, in its depths, was a mystery yet I could imagine the wondrous creatures living below. Pieces of the sky reflected on the surface, creating an endless cycle of blue. It went on forever. The world below, the world above, and my family stuck in the middle. Yet the trees, each one elaborately spun in white, were out of the ordinary. Spider webs, the worker had said. Theyŕe all along the bank. Just be cautious. We don't want another incident.

We were lost in nature's embrace. So lost, in fact, that the trees began to creep in closer. Our eyes swam with they waves and further they crept until the sky was gone and the daring silk took over our atmosphere. Finally, the others around began to notice.

¨Don't let it hit your bun,” my dad directed to his wife, as if her hair was the only reason we'd become embraced in a spider army. However, she bowed her head to prevent any harm.

And my dad’s oar hit the base of the tree with a vibrating clunk.

Millions. Billions. Trillions. The number of spider legs prickling my skin was immeasurable. They crawled along, making their way up and down my body frantically. A monsterous whine came out of my mouth as tears welled, beginning to overflow. My body began to stand. No, jump. I rocked the canoe and everyone in it. I heard my mom yelling at my sister to help me, yelling at me to stop due to river snakes, yelling at the insects running along her skin.

In the midst of my chaos, my family rallied together to pick the spiders off one by one until I was, once again, in control of my body. My storm on the clear day was coming to an end, however my cherry face made my meltdown evidential.  

After that, the world that greeted my sights seemed repulsive- almost intolerable. It was strange to me how nature had once been so inviting yet turned vile within a few webb filled seconds.

Looking back, years later, I’m glad to have saved the companionless wanderer from size three Twinkle Toes in the restroom yet ask me again, and I’ll go ballistic. I strongly believe that I will never come in contact with another arachnid.

You couldn’t pay me enough.