“Cape May Spider”

“He’s only in Boston,” my parents had assured me, “you’ll see him plenty.” I hadn’t known how to respond. Now thinking about him, I realized how bored I was without him. Last year, this trip had been fun. Now it was low key and without some lighter humor to keep me distracted from my grandpa, who in his old age was beginning to feel a bit desolate.

There wasn’t a ton to in Cape May when you were waiting for your family to eat their food, which they appeared to be eating at a rate of a bite per argument. My little sister, my cousins, and I got bored and walked out of the restaurant and started to stroll. It was when we passed by the liquor store that I noticed it. The biggest, most terrifyingly vibrant spider I had ever seen. I paused for a second, then remembering how much my sister hated spiders, I called her over and showed her. She shrieked and ran off. We laughed at her awkwardly sprinting away in her flip-flops. I thought that it would be something my brother would do. I frowned and looked at my watch. My brother had probably arrived by now. At the gate of his new world, leaving his old world behind, with me still in it.

I sat down on the curb while my cousins talked. I felt like I didn’t have a brother anymore, and he was lost to the outside universe and we could never do any of the crazy shit we always did. “He’s only in Boston,” I heard my parents’ voice in my head. Well screw them. They don’t know him like I do. They aren’t attached to him like I am.

Someone sat down next to me. It was my little sister.

“You think he’s going to be alright?” She asked.

“Yeah,” I said, blowing her off.

“Are you going to be alright?”

That caught me off guard. She and I never talked about our feelings. I tried to think of a response that was both true and bold, and I realized that response didn’t exist.

I closed my mouth. She slid over and put her arms around me.