by Rebecca Evans

Rebecca Evans, *Womb*, watercolor and black ink on watercolor paper, 14 x 11 inches, 2024. Courtesy of the artist.

How to Eat a Spider

Rebecca Evans | Nov 2024 | Issue 39

“Just swallow quick and you won’t feel it squirm,” Abby says.

I wipe my palms on my jeans. No way. There is no way. Abby holds the spider by one leg and, I swear, its hairs sway with the breeze and I think about the feel of that spider in my throat.

Think about how it will stick, those spindly legs working their way back onto my tongue and then I think about the taste.

“You won’t have to bite it or anything,” Abby says.

My stomach pushes towards my tonsils. My breakfast tries to surface. I swallow it back, though I want to let it fly, dream of spewing Cheerios in Abby’s face. I smile. Accidentally. The idea of splitting that spider with my teeth, knowing it will squirt, erases that smile. I also know if I puke on Abby, I’m a goner.

I’m already a goner.

Abby will punch me in the face if I don’t eat this spider.

I believe her.

She punched me in the face for less dares.

She once told me, “I’m just fostering courage in you.”

Last week, she cornered me in the school alley behind the cafeteria. She reached in the trash bin. She pulled a slice of bread sprinkled in coffee grounds and what looked like a former slice of Velveeta coated in mold or worms or ladybug spots.

She told me, “Eat it.”

I shook. My body. Not my head.

“I said eat it, Nerd-wad.”

I stood. My face heated. My hands fisted.

“You’re gonna eat it and you’re gonna eat it slow and like it,” she said.

She pushed the chunk of garbage into my face. She stuck her fingers in my mouth and, when she tried to pry, I bit.

Now, I brace myself, squeeze my eyes as I wait for Abby’s blow.

Rebecca Evans writes the heart-full guidebooks for survivors. She teaches high school teens in the juvenile justice system and co-hosts Radio Boise’s Writer to Writer show. Her poems and essays have appeared in Brevity, Narratively, The Rumpus, Hypertext Magazine, and more. Her books include Tangled by Blood (Moon Tide Press, 2023) and Safe Handling (Moon Tide Press, 2024). She lives with four Newfoundlands and her sons.