Spirella Mary Brady
Mar 31, 2016
SpirellaMary Brady
First published in 2010 by Messenger Publications
Messenger Publications, 37 Lower Leeson Street, Dublin 2www.messenger.ie
Printed in Ireland
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Copyright © Mary Brady
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Spirella
Spirella
Spirella spiderSpirella Spider was very handsome. She was plump and round and wore a brown jumper
and black furry stockings on her eight lovely long legs. She was born in the Murphy’s old
farmhouse where her family had lived for a long time. Her web was in a corner of the sitting
room ceiling and had a large terrace and several balconies overlooking the room below.
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It wasn’t easy to see it so far up because it was made of the finest
lace and was almost invisible.
She had been living there for some time and liked it so well she hoped
she would never have to leave. Several times in the past she was forced to
move from other places when Mrs Murphy swept her house away with a brush,
only narrowly missing Spirella herself. But here she felt so secure that she had built a
nursery, with her eggs wrapped up in yellow silk blankets, ready to hatch into baby spiders
in a few weeks time. She was looking forward to when they would all be big enough to be
taken for walks, and learn how to swing from the chandelier, and even go exploring.
One morning as she sat in her doorway gazing down on the empty room below she was
startled to hear her name being called.
“Spirella, Spirella.”
She looked around, and sure enough a large fly wearing a blue vest had landed near her.
It was old Buzzer Bluebottle himself. He was careful to keep his distance knowing Spirella
had the place booby-trapped with webs everywhere to trap foolish flies. She wasn’t mean;
it was just her spider nature.
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“What now,” she said, “more gossip I
suppose?”
Buzzer travelled around a good deal and
picked up all sorts of information. He listened
to the Murphy family talking, especially
during meals, when he even had the nerve to
land on the table cloth. Spirella didn’t believe
half of what he said.
“I just came to warn you, but if you don’t
want to know ….”
“Warn me of what?” Spirella interrupted
him. Buzzer could be a tease, but still a nervous
feeling began to creep down her eight legs.
“It’s just that Mrs Murphy has bought a
new vacuum cleaner and is going to spring
clean very soon.”
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“A vacuum cleaner,” gasped Spirella. “Oh dear, oh dear, bad news.”
“I thought you’d like to know,” Buzzer tossed over his shoulder as he prepared to fly off.
“Oh what am I going to do?” She called after him, her heart sinking.
“Move,” he shouted, “go outdoors for the summer. Even I’m not safe you know.”
“But I can’t move,” she sobbed. “What about my nursery. I can’t leave my babies to hatch
out alone.”
“I don’t see why not, your sister Spinny in the kitchen is moving into the garden shed.
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She told me to tell you. But suit yourself,” he said, and he flew away.
Flies can be very cold-hearted, she thought to herself. All that continuous buzzing
around, never settling down, I suppose, and never owning a home. The thought of home
made her tremble again. She knew all about vacuum cleaners. Many times she had heard
tales of whole Spider families disappearing in a second without a trace. Her mother had
warned her often enough when she was teaching her to loop-the-loop.
“When you hear a vacuum cleaner you must move out immediately,” she had said very
solemnly. “Your grandfather wouldn’t move, and then he disappeared and we never saw
him again.”
She’d have to think of something before it was too late, but what? She sat in her front
room for a long time, her head full of worries. Even after the light went off in the sitting
room, and the house was quiet and still for the night, she couldn’t sleep. She watched the
firelight below flickering and casting shadows on the walls. It was so cosy here, and this
was her favourite time of all. It was the safest time.
Suddenly a strange smell made her sit up feeling anxious. I should know that
smell, she thought. It’s an old and dangerous kind of smell, worse even than
vacuum cleaners. It’s a fire smell, I’m sure. Something is on fire!
The smell of fire means flight for every
living thing, and Spirella acted quickly. She let
herself down from her terrace on a long rope
she kept handy, and scuttled across the floor.
And there indeed was the cause of the smell.
A red coal was smouldering on the rug in front
of the fire. Spirella made for the door as fast as
she could. I’ll wake Mrs Murphy, she thought,
and then she’ll do something to save her house
and my house. So she rushed across to Mr and
Mrs Murphy’s bedroom and swung herself up
on the bed.
With all her eight legs wiggling around as
fast as they could go on Mrs Murphy’s face, she
finally woke her up. Spirella barely escaped the
blow Mrs Murphy aimed at her in the dark, but
she managed to tumble off the bed to safety.
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“A wretched spider waking me up,” complained Mrs Murphy as she put on the light to
investigate. But by then the smell of smoke was unmistakable, and Mrs Murphy was on her
feet in no time with a bucket of water to douse the flames.
“Thank God for spiders,” Mrs Murphy said to her husband
when she had the fire out. “I just got to the fire in time, but if it
hadn’t been for that spider we might have been burned in our
bed. I don’t think I’ll bother clearing the cobwebs after all, at
least not this spring.”
Spirella, crouching under the bed, was relieved to hear this.
Now she wouldn’t have to leave her home. When her babies
hatched, she could watch them learn to swing from the terrace
and loop-the-loop across the ceiling. She could even extend her
house if she wanted to. A couple of extra rooms would be just the
thing for a growing family.
So feeling happy and relieved Spirella returned home to begin designing the new
extension and to plan adventures for the summer.
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Summer had arrived at last. From her web high up on the ceiling, Spirella watched the
sunlight creep along the floor of the hall through the open sitting room door. She longed to
go outside and have a change of scene.
“My babies have another couple of weeks before they hatch out, so I’ll take a holiday
Spirella spider’s summer outing
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first, and go and see a bit more of the world,” she thought. So she took out the silk rope
she kept handy on the balcony, and let herself down to the sunny patch of floor beneath.
Spirella, in spite of having four eyes, was a bit short sighted. So she had landed before
she recognised Buzzer Bluebottle in a new blue waistcoat, sunning himself on the rug.
“Where are you off to Spirella?”
“I’m not sure yet, maybe to visit my sister Spinny in the garden shed?”
“Yes, the garden shed. It’s pretty crowded out there now you know. Lots of new families
have moved in. It’s not the quiet place it was. Foreigners some of them.”
Buzzer being a gossip kept up with all the news and any change in the Murphy household,
but Spirella didn’t always trust him. Anyone Buzzer didn’t know he considered a foreigner.
“Well I’ll see where I end up,” Spirella said cheerfully as she swung her long rope out
the door.
A sudden gust of wind landed her on the car parked outside.
“Well, this IS a different place … plenty of travel ahead if I stay here,” she thought as she
examined the side mirror.
It did look a good spot, with a place to hide from danger and yet lay traps for food.
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“What a lucky landing I’ve had,” she said to herself as she set about creating a new
holiday home, and making a web for her larder. There was a blue sky and sunshine and
plenty of fresh air. It was the perfect holiday choice for someone wanting to travel.
Spirella was still busy when Mrs Murphy suddenly came along and opened the car
door. Spirella’s half-built house trembled. She managed to scramble around to the back
of the mirror so as not to get blown away when the car sped down the drive and onto
the street. Travel has its hazards, and Spirella was forced to hang on tight and watch trees
and houses and walls flash by. Then the car rolled into the Petrol Station and stopped.
Spirella peered out and saw a sign saying ‘Car Wash’ in large letters. Before she knew what
was happening an enormous orange-coloured brush was coming towards her, and water
worse than any rain storm began to pour down. Soon everything was covered in soap suds
and Spirella, clinging to the inside of the mirror while the brush scrubbed against it, was
nearly drowned. It was like being in the middle of a terrible thunder storm. The sound was
deafening. Suddenly, it stopped. Just as she picked herself up to look out, warm air blew
in on top of her. It was almost worse than the time she had got into Mrs Murphy’s tumble
dryer by mistake. She was shaken and scared and she took a long time to recover when
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