Abandoned Life ~ Autobiography: Part Eleven:
Tinka remembered the day she almost died out of fear, how silly can one get when you don’t have the mentality of a peanut.
Tinka might be a nature lover, even enjoy watching various animals and bugs doing their little thing. Usually with her humorous eye seeing the fun, going along with it, smiling knowing God must have had a good sense of humor too create “not so good looking” bugs and animals. But there is one bug God created, that Tinka still thinking must have been a big “mistake” if ever one was intended, and that’s the spider.
Okay the clever people say, they are there to do “God only knows” good deed. But to Tinka that would never be good enough reason to see the use for them to be on planet earth. And as fate always goes the wrong way, and landed on the fear’ side there seemed to always be one monstrous spider lurking around to give her the fright of her life.
Like on that horrible day she spotted this demon roaming in her bedroom, and sat on her wall like he was ready to jump her the moment he had the chance. She ran outside calling her not so “beloved” husband to kill the bastard. She went back as far as the kitchen, standing on the far side of the table, far away from what she knew was about to bite her.
Her family without a grain of sympathy for her fear, would always “corner” her with the demon to watch her been driven to tears and insanity. But she was ready to hit back, can of tomato paste in her hand, ready to attack who ever had the guts to get close enough.
Usually her husband would take the broom to kill such demons and sweep his corps onto something and push it up to her. But that day he did not get the job done. The spider had fallen down behind the headboard of the bed. Tinka totally unaware of that was waiting all stressed up in the kitchen, still armed and on alert behind the table. She thought he took an awful long time to show his face, and she took a few steps closer to the door to peek down the hall to see what he was up to.
But at that very same moment, one of her kids had the broom in his hand, brush side turned up in a horizontal position trying to balance it with one hand.
That was when Tinka took a peek and almost touched the broom with the tip of her nose. She saw nothing else but this gigantic hairy spider the size of a bear right in her face. She felt like she had a heart attack right there, screaming blue murder like hell, arms flying legs kicking all at the same time yelling HELP, made a u-turn in mid air and left as fast as she could manage her feet to touch the ground right back to the far side of the table.
She started to cry, throwing the can down to the floor, pleading to stop and let mercy fall upon her, with the extended warning, never to do that to her again. Telling them if she had had a knife in her hand, that she could’ve killed someone right there.
Rattled and very stressed out she washed her face and carried on with what she was doing; trying to focus on the pot before her and forget what had happened. It was not very long before she drifted off again in a dream, thinking about a new poem to write, when her husband took his chances with her trying to make up knowing it’s almost bed time and he needed to be on speaking terms with his wife at all times to score a little luck.
He wasn’t thinking clearly when he stupidly picked up the feather duster and deviously touched her neck with it to give her just one last jump as it touched her ear. Once again it scarred the shit out of her. She almost pulled the hot pot filled with a chew from the stove. Hands in the air he tried to apologize but Tinka was mad this time.
She grabbed the “Zambuck” ( like a horse whip) she had ready and started to chase him, wanted give him all the hell she could. Out of fear what was coming he ran like hell to avoid the onslaught to a kill, knowing he had pushed Tinka way too far this time.
With blinding tears in her eyes she followed him fearlessly. Fate was on her side this time as he had slipped and fell, Tinka on top of him. With fear with what he saw in Tinka’s eyes, he started to plead and begged for mercy, with the promise he would not do it again, but with no affect; murder was written all over her face.
He then became aggressive and grabbed her arms in great anger towards her now. For some reason he became the aggressor and she the victim doing to Tinka what she wasted to do to him by hurting her even more.
What was intended to be a silly joke became another ugly fight. Something she would never forget, burning the scar of mistrust even deeper in to her heart.
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