Department of English

Spring 2006 High School Edition

The Dryder House

Caitlin Vohs
Fiction (11th-12th)
Third Place
Canyon View High School
Teacher: Cody Christensen

“The Dryder house?  Yeah, it’s around here.  Down off Bakers Road, on the east side of town.” Earl Birkley paused to spit a black stream of chew off the porch.  “Can’t possibly miss the house once you’ve found Bakers.  Just take a left and follow the road on about a mile and some, just past the creek.  It’s the only house around.  Can’t possibly miss it.”

“What do you want with those girls, anyhow?  They’re not in trouble, are they?” Annette Birkley asked, tucking a loose lock of her salt and pepper hair behind her ear.  Earl turned around in his chair to glare at his wife where she stood in the doorway, both eyes narrowed.

“What’s it matter what he wants with them, woman?  Those two ain’t nothin’ but trouble.  I’ve said it from the beginning and I’ll say it again.  They’re nothin’ but a couple of hussies.”

Annette huffed.  “I was just askin’, Earl.  And they ain’t hussies.  They’re fine young women, always been kind to you and me.  Don’t see what it is that bothers you so much about them.” And then to the stranger on the tall yellow horse, “Do you plan on marrying one of them?  Or perhaps you’re lookin’ to buy some of their lovely tatting.”

“Excuse me, ma’am?  Their tatting?”  Annette could tell from his voice that he was smiling under his thick mustache, and she had the vague suspicion that he was teasing her, but she was old and had been teased many times, so she pushed the conversation on as though she didn’t notice.

“Their tatting.  Sometimes people come from out of town to buy it.  It’s beautiful work.  The most beautiful I’ve ever seen, if you want to know.  I reckon that’s how they pay the bills, by tatting away and selling it to fine, rich people who pass through.  They’re tryin’ so hard to hold onto their mother’s land.  Good girls, those.”

The stranger leaned in his saddle towards Annette and lowered his voice, as though sharing a deep secret.  “Actually, I’m here because they do not pay their bills.  Fine young women and wonderful tatters they may be, but outstanding citizens they are not.  I hope that stifles your curiosity some.”  He winked at her, tipped his hat at her husband, and was on his way. 

When he was gone from their sight, a shadow of distrust passed over Earl’s face.  “Yankee,” he observed.

“Carpet bagger,” his wife replied, her voice hard.

“Those girls you’re so fond of had better watch out.  He’s lookin’ for trouble….”

“Oh, don’t you worry about the Dryder sisters,” Annette sighed, her eyes softening with affection.  “They can take care of themselves.”

 

Henry Johnson was new enough to the tax collecting business that he was still sure he could charm every person he was assigned to take money from.  Therefore, he dismounted his prized horse with a flourish, smiling hugely as he swung his long legs down from the saddle and waved graciously at the women before him.  He had expected to be able to dust himself off before meeting the Dryder sisters, but there they both sat on the wide covered porch, drinking iced tea casually and with a third clean cup next to the pitcher.  Apparently, they had been expecting him.

“Why, hello!” Called one sister, a vibrant blonde with full lips and a well curved body.  “So nice to have a guest on such a beautiful evening!  Won’t you join us for some tea?”

“I don’t see the harm in that,” Johnson replied as he climbed the worn white steps and approached the girls, relieved at the warm greeting.  “Miss and Miss Dryder, I assume.”

“Yes, that’s right.  I’m Anna, and this is my sister Alexandria.”  The blonde offered her right hand to be taken and gestured vaguely over her shoulder with the other.  Johnson took a good look at the second girl, an equally stunning brunette with a slower, more sensuous smile, and approached her with an outstretched hand.

“Ma’am.”

“And sir!”  Alexandria took his proffered hand without standing.  “What, may I ask, do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Ah… those matters are uncomfortable ones.”

“Uncomfortable but no doubt important for a man like yourself to be traveling so very far.  Please, don’t be shy about it.  We’re big girls.  We’ll take the news just fine, I’m sure.”

“I must warn you, it’s business matters, and nothing too cheery…”

“Then, let’s not spoil our tea!” Anna bounced between the two, quite literally, and effortlessly ended the conversation.  “It’s such a beautiful evening, sister, and we have a guest for the first time in months!  Let’s ignore the business for a while, can’t we?  Please?”

Alexandria continued to study Johnson for a moment more, a half-smile masking her dark stare, then smiled more warmly at her sister.  “Of course we can.  For a little while, at least.  Mr. Johnson, are you in a terrible hurry?”

“Oh, say you’re not!” Anna pleaded, and pressed her warm body against him.  “It’s so very rare we have any visitors!  The town’s full of fine people, but it’s so rare we find someone fresh and new.  Spend the evening with us, won’t you?”  She smiled at him and Johnson couldn’t help but smile back.  Her hair smelled like honey, he noticed, and he inhaled deeply.

“I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t.  There’s a storm rolling in and I should get done with business here and head back to the inn.  I’d love to, really, but I just can’t.”

Anna’s smile deepened and a hint of mischievous interest illuminated her face.  Johnson flushed, realizing he’d been taking her in a little too much, and promptly turned his eyes to the brunette.  “If we could just get this over with, I won’t trouble you any longer.”

Alexandria stood and gently brushed her sister’s arm.  Anna obediently stepped back, pouting prettily at Johnson as she did so.  “Yes, Mr. Johnson, I think that’s a fine idea.  Why don’t you come into the house?  We can talk more seriously there.”

Immediately, Anna’s face brightened.  “Yes!” She breathed, stepping closer to Johnson once more.  “Come into our parlor.  We can take our tea in there!”

“A porch is no place for business.”  Alexandria noted, then swept past them towards the house. Anna followed and, from behind, the two of them seemed not to walk but to glide towards the house in their wide hoop skirts.  Johnson followed, grinning, and as the tired screen door bounced shut behind him; the first of the storm clouds covered the sun.

 

Business did not take place in the parlor, much to Anna’s displeasure, but in the study down the hall.  It dragged on for entirely too long, halted regularly by the younger Dryder sister’s often irrelevant interruptions.  By the time the bills were all paid and accounted for, the evening had worn well into night and the storm was raging, its purple clouds sprawling across the sky.

“Well,” Johnson sighed, standing at last and stretching, “that takes care of that.”

“Indeed.  I hope everything worked out to your liking.” Alexandria smiled and began to organize the papers that had been spread across her large oak desk.

“Certainly.  Mr. Jacobs warned me extensively that you ladies might cause some trouble, but he was quite mistaken.  I couldn’t ask for more cooperative clients, nor more gracious hosts.”

“Then you won’t insult our hospitality by refusing dinner!” Anna stood and swept to Johnson’s side, taking his arm and leading him firmly out of the study.  She was a small woman, but her voice was intoxicating, and he soon learned there was no arguing with her.  Anna demanded he stay for dinner, and that was simply the end of it.

Alexandria summoned the servants to lay out dinner while Anna gave Johnson a brief tour of the lower level of the house.  The foyer was richly decorated in elaborate pieces of tatting, some quite large and most hanging from the ceiling as though they had been placed on display in the off-chance a visitor might come by.  Johnson and the girls had walked past these on their way to the study, but he hadn’t quite realized how complex they were with his first sweeping glance.  Anna spent the time it took for food to be prepared showing him each elegant piece, and Johnson was soon in agreement with old Annette from town; it was easily the most beautiful work he’d ever seen.

Before long, the smells of rich food were drifting into the foyer from the dining room and he was forced to pull his eyes away from a particularly large hanging whose shadow, cast by numerous candles, danced eerily on the wall and follow Anna to his seat.  And what a seat it was!  Crimson velvet cushions cradled his back and buttocks as he admired the heavenly variety of food scattered before him on the long mahogany table.

“I hope you’ll excuse us, Mr. Johnson,” Alexandria said, sipping dark wine but touching no food, “we rarely dine so early.”  She smiled politely across the length of the table and for a long moment Johnson wished she would be as flirtatious as her sister.  What fun it would be to have a beautiful Dryder girl on each arm!

He cleared his throat, shaking that thought from his mind, and replied, “Then I must say you’ve provided far too much food for just one man!  How am I to eat so much?”

“Eat until you are full, we ask no more than that.  It’s so very rare we have good company that we don’t mind lavishing them in all the best we have, do we Anna?”

“No, certainly not!  Which is why you can’t possibly refuse our finest guest bedroom for the night, nor the delicious breakfast we can enjoy in the morning!”

Johnson choked on his wine, snorting it painfully until he began to cough. 

“Guest room?” He managed painfully, “No, I couldn’t do that.  I have a room waiting for me in town with all my belongings, and I’ve outstayed my welcome already, I’m afraid.  Please, I couldn’t trouble you anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s no trouble at all.  In fact, I think we must insist on it.  The creek beds flood terribly in these sudden storms, and I’d fear for the safety of both you and your horse if you were to attempt to cross it now in the dark and before the storm has even let up.  Please, don’t make us beg.”

Johnson plucked at the tablecloth for a moment, an elaborate piece of tatting that was spun like a web, then shrugged his shoulders and agreed.  “If you insist, I see no way out of it.  I’ll stay the night, for your peace of mind.”

Alexandria smiled darkly at him, and for a moment in the low light of the dining hall, she looked eerie and sinister.  “How very kind of you.  I’m sure Anna will be more than happy to show you to your room.”

And so, after he had eaten his fill, Johnson was led to a bedroom on the second floor where clean sheets and a steaming pitcher of water had been left for his enjoyment.  It was a strange situation, to be sure, but Johnson was beginning to feel very comfortable in the Dryder house.  After all, spending the night in the company of two lovely women was far better than drinking whiskey by himself in a dark and lonely inn.

“And if you need anything more,” Anna was telling him as she handed him an extra blanket and wash towel, “just give my door a little knock.  I’ll be up most of the night tatting, and I wouldn’t mind you disturbing me for anything.  Alright, Mr. Johnson?  Anything.  My room is just down the hall…don’t be shy now.”  And with a devilish wink, Anna turned and glided out of the room.

After seriously considering what that wink might convey, Johnson washed his face and neck, then stripped down to his long johns and crawled into bed.  The large dinner he had enjoyed had made him rather lethargic, and before long, his breath had deepened into a gentle snore.  He fell asleep so fast, in fact, that it seemed only a heartbeat’s worth of time before he had been awakened by a thump just outside his door, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone moving down the hall.

Without hesitation, Johnson was swinging his legs out of bed.  He was a curious man by nature and suddenly he wanted very much to see which of the sisters was sneaking past his door so very late.

The cold floor bit at his feet as he stepped hurriedly into his trousers, but he did not waste time in slipping on his socks.  He was vaguely aware that it was probably Anna walking around beyond his room and he half hoped to meet her in the darkened hallway, (perhaps to wrap his arms around her thin waist and press his mouth hard against hers) so he slipped out his door and into the shadows of the house.

Not far away, Anna’s door was open a crack and yellow light spilled warmly into the hallway.  It seemed to beckon Johnson forward, and he thought, Ah!  She wants me to have a look!  Still, he was very careful not to make a sound as he crept forward and gazed with one eye into her boudoir.

Anna was, as he had hoped, in the process of undressing.  Her long green gown had been pulled off her shoulders and even as he watched she peeled it down off her torso, letting the material bunch around her hips.  Her back was to him and she was still wearing her laced white corset, but Johnson thought he had never seen a more appealing sight.  His breathing became heavy as she began to wiggle her hips, forcing the tight dress down over them to reveal her legs. 

Johnson chocked on nothing at all and bit back a scream.

Instead of revealing two slender, white legs, Anna revealed eight.  Not white legs, even, but dark brown multi-jointed, and coarse looking legs.  And as the dress was lowered and the legs were freed, they began to uncoil themselves and straighten up, lifting Anna high into the air.  It was as though they were tired of being bundled up for so long and were stretching one last time before bed.

Anna stretched with her legs, lifting her slender arms above her head and throwing her head back in a yawn that seemed too big for her body.  Johnson, paralyzed with fear, watched as she began to pull out the pins that held her hair in its fine twist.  As she did this, one leg untangled the dress from the other seven and tossed it carelessly into the corner.

Johnson could hold it in no more.

A hiccup escaped him, the tiniest gasp of fear, and he clapped his hands around his mouth even as it was brushing past his lips.  It was a sound no louder than a mouse might make, but, oh, it was more than enough.

Anna’s head whipped around with such speed that her honeycomb hair, so recently let down, splashed against her pale cheek.  For a moment, for a quarter of a second, time stopped.

Anna started at him, her monstrous legs holding her high above him, and Johnson stared back, breathless with terror.

For an eternity that moment stretched on.

For no time at all.

Like a spring pulled tight and suddenly released, all eight, grotesque legs contracted and Anna was back to her normal height.  Her legs seemed tense and drawn in, as though ready to spring, and her expression was a mixture of shock and pleasure.

Johnson began to back away.  He wanted very badly to let out a scream that had been building inside his chest—the scream that seemed to choke him with its thickness—but was simultaneously worried that as soon as he started screaming, he would never ever be able to stop.

Anna was coming towards him now.  All the beauty that had thrived in her face fled until there was nothing left but hunger.  The glide she had accomplished in her fine dress became eight legs worth of crawl and she was across the room before Johnson had made it more than a step away.  She reached out for him, and he jumped back another few feet.

“Out of the frying pan,” Anna hissed, the music gone from her voice.

“And into the fire,” came Alexandria’s husky tones from behind, even as she wrapped her arms around him and lowered her mouth to his neck.  Her lips hesitated over his skin, caressing it with gentle kisses that only made Johnson even more nervous, then parted for her teeth.  The searing pain of her bite crippled Johnson for a moment, and even as her tongue tasted his blood he felt sure he would never control his own body again.  And then a new emotion, raw and uncontrollable, overlapped the pain and gave his body new life.  It was panic, complete and undeniable, and it thrashed around his mind like an untamed beast.

Johnson snapped his head away from Alexandria and tore out of her arms, nearly tripping over the hairy legs that half surrounded him.  Alexandria made no attempt to hold him as he jerked away, nor did Anna reach for him as he raced past her.  They let him go, watching with distant amusement as he threw himself down the hall.

Johnson did not slow when he reached the stairs.  Instead, he crashed down them, tripping as he did and tumbling most of the way to the landing.  He did not pause to check for broken bones, to register any pain, but picked himself up and began to dash towards the front door.

A fog of webs greeted him in the foyer and before Johnson could slow his momentum he was caught up in them.

Webs and tatting.

They grabbed at his face and clothes, attempting to hold him back, but the terror that screamed through him now was too alive to be slowed.  He began to tear at the sticky white strands with his bare hands, encountering the thicker nets of crochet hidden throughout and tripping as more web twisted around his legs.  Quite suddenly, he was on his knees.  He struggled to his feet, attributing the effort it took to the webs, and continued to push forward towards the front door.

All the cold panic and fear that controlled him could not keep Johnson on his feet, however, and his knees crashed to the floor for a second time.  Then a third.  Each time it became harder and harder to stand, and it wasn’t long before Johnson realized that his legs were becoming reluctant to respond to his brain.  Soon, there was no standing up.  He simply could not force his body to do it.

His hands, too, were becoming heavy and distant.  He stubbornly continued to batter away at the webs, but each swing was becoming weaker and less aggressive.  Soon, his arms would no longer lift.  His entire body gave out on him suddenly and Johnson, exhausted, terrified and helpless, crashed face forward to the ground.

The Dryder sisters crept down the stairs and into the hall behind him.  He could feel the weight of each footstep through the floorboards, heavy steps that he was amazed he had never noticed before.  Johnson tried to scream, to cry out for the Lord, to whimper for mercy, but found his jaw would only hang open, panting out of breath. 

“Sister, I believe we’ve caught ourselves a peeping Tom,” Alexandria purred as she stepped forward, gingerly placing her legs all around him as she settled just above.  “What do you have to say about that?”

“I’d say I’m awfully offended!  Think of how he violated my privacy!  How he might have violated me.  No, no, no, sister.  We must put a stop to that.  It would be a service to society to dispose of this gentleman.”

Alexandria crouched lower over Johnson and, starting with his feet, began to wrap his body in thick, white thread.  If Johnson strained his eyes just so, he could see his ankles disappearing beneath the web.

His breathing doubled.

“Dear Anna,” Alexandria crooned, “this is no gentleman!  This is only a bug in the clothes of a gentleman.  A very naughty little insect.  No, sister, we would never harm a gentleman.” 

“Too true.  How silly of me to make such a mistake.  This is only a bug, after all.” Alexandria was working fast, and Johnson could feel the pressure of the heavy thread as it was wrapped tightly around his thighs.  “Hardly even that.  A pest, really.”

“A monster, even.  A fly on your wall, trying to spy on you without your knowing,” And they both threw back their heads and laughed in harmony, sickening laughter that was not merry at all.

“You were very good to catch him, Alexandria.  Very good, indeed.”

“You were very good to lure him, sweet sister.”  His chest was feeling the weight now, and Johnson’s terrified breath was becoming harder and harder to draw.  Alexandria rolled him over when she reached his armpits and Johnson was rewarded briefly with the horrific sight of her underbody even as his head rolled lamely to one side.

Alexandria stepped away from him then and scuttled to her sister’s side.  For a moment, they both studied him, as though admiring their work, and as they did, Anna began to salivate.  Such beautiful women, with the legs of spiders, and although Johnson would never know it for sure, he felt positive he wet himself.

“Anna,” Alexandria whispered, her voice dripping with hunger, “help me with our guest.” 

“Come into our parlor,” said the spider to the fly.  “T’is the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.”