Spider Bill

Let me tell you a story, in a roundabout way…

There was one thing that I was certain of and knew for sure, I was due a haircut soon and a new pair of shoes, until I looked at my appointments book and saw that I had no more time to spare to these kinds of things.

So I balanced on the tightrope of the night.

Spider bill must be close I thought, but I didn’t know how close. So I inhaled some more air and made like a ballerina.

“Oh child of god, you approach me so, with your tongue tailed telling.” said a big voice that sounded like a crowd.

Looking around me like a Greek in the torture chamber, I felt a hand touch my shoulder, so I jumped right out of my mind to third base and came down falling forward to become a legend, and ended up on every street corner that can be named, and many others that can never be named.

A wind blew down the chimney that made a stone rattle and fall with a down in the night a sound that scratched the surface of my fear that burrow deeper to make all that is known into something else I wasn’t sure of; and there was spider Bill standing right in front of me.

I am terribly sorry, but I am not civilised when I come a calling said spider Bill, and blew his horn: toot, toot.

I began packing furiously and escaped out of the window in the nick of time to fly away, leaving spider Bill far, far behind.

Hoot, went the owl.

And bat-flit went the night, outside the window as I ran for it, where I found many others screaming in the dark, which gave me wings.

The self scrawl was over me as I ran away from spider Bill; that too late at night asking where the miracles come through too late to make any difference.

So I just had to call for my salvation to come to me to save me, but heard only my own call coming back at me like some echo I’d given up on and jumping out at me to give me a fright.

I thought, spider Bill’s got some lot of things to answer for.

God damn spider Bill, chanted the big voice of the crowd on hearing this.

Twisting the knob of redemption to turn the music up higher to drown out the crowd’s voice I heard a faint sound coming from the inner reaches that pickled my ears and made me want to cry out all over again.

It was the mushroom man sweeping the floors that made me think of this, so I gave him a wave.

And he gave me a wave back.

A short black shoelace later and we were winking at each other until our jaws began to ache and the church bells were ringing on Sunday, so I pleaded a toothache and took out the makings for a smoke and sat down to roll it.

A doll with a glass eye gave me a wink then and blew a bubble with her chewing gum, kind of like an ascension parody; which had me thinking there was a lot of winking going on around here.

She was hiding behind her smile that was put on as an advertisement to fix my toothache and I was just about to accept, when spider Bill stepped out of the shadows and grabbed her, and spinning her around he reached for her necklace called the 7 thousand stones of the sun.

But she was having none of it and slapped spider Bill in the face and stormed off towards Brighton beach for a slice of cake with someone else.

My eye slid towards spider Bill as his eyes slid towards me.

My old drinking buddy, I said, and I looked him in the eye.

Weren’t we in the exact same place last night at about this time he said and looked me back in the eye with both of his eyes glowing.

Is that a problem I said?

No, no problem at all was his answer to my question.

So I said then, I said: then why are we wasting good drinking time staring at things around here?

I’ve been wondering that for a while now, and taking my arm he led us off to the nearest bar that would serve us.
I was rattling the bars of my cage again about an hour or four later and rodeoing up the chips that were falling when spider Bill guided another drink into my hand. God bless California he said and began to write a book that would never get published.

I just had to roll up another smoke.

Well, I did say I’d tell you a story in a roundabout way… Anyway:

My redemption was catching up to me quicker than I could blink as I looked around me to see if anyone was watching and saw, looking at me, the doll and her glass eye, over by the backbenches. While up in the bleachers the crowd were staring intently.

I touched my beard to see if it was still there and prayed to any god that would listen: do not let me go unrecognised; and then I set off for the next bar whistling for spider Bill.

The glass eyed doll followed me out the door and along the pavement with me weaving along in a straight line as if I had somewhere to go.

Wait, she said, and thrust herself at me in the rain.

Yes, it was raining.

She came up with an idea to go back to her place. So I said yes.

As we accompanied each other along, gurgling and twisting our tongues about, I glanced over my shoulder to see if spider Bill was anywhere close, but didn’t see him anywhere. And then her tongue went in my ear and I became deaf.
From a long way off and in my other ear that was not deaf, spider Bill started shouting very loud, telling me to come out from my illusion, and let’s go to the next bar.

So I said, listen, I said. I said that. Doll, let’s have a nightcap, and shot straight towards the nearest light that welcomed me and appeared to have alcohol in its depths.

I’m terribly sorry, but the rabbit hole is closed now, said the barman of the next bar I came to, winking at me out of his left eye.

So I looked left and heard the poet saying a poem over and over again further on up the street.

Written in stone I thought and sauntered on.

A small imp, rubber-stamped in my diary, called out to me that all my hidden worries were demanding attention.

But, bumping into my elbow that was at my side appeared spider Bill.

Thank god I said. Where have you been?

I’m spider Bill, I have many secrets.

Never mind, you’re here now. Hey, didn’t I have a doll on my arm not mere moments ago?

You may have had a doll, you may not have had a doll; I don’t really care if you’re into dolls, just open your mouth, this will not hurt a bit said spider Bill handing me a whisky.

Oh, spider bill…

Perhaps I shall call this the end of part one. I shall have to think about it.

Image from Pixabay

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