Felix Takes the Stage by Kathryn Lasky Page A

tighter.
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    â€œFelix!” she called out. “Felix, you didn’t!”
    Felix picked up the anguish in his mother’s voice as he scuttled and skibbled his way down an air-conditioning vent to the basement.
    She can’t think I actually killed him — not on purpose!
    â€œMom!” he called as he arrived at the web. “All I did was —”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter. He’s dead, right?”
    â€œHe only saw me. That’s all!”
    â€œLook at him,” Jo Bell wailed. “Felix is bleeding!”
    â€œBleeding? Where?” Edith asked.
    â€œMommy, Felix’s lost a leg!” Julep cried.

    â€œOh, mercy!” Edith swung down from the messy circle she had been making. There were pale blue drops on the floor where Felix had now collapsed. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll staunch this blood in a second.”
    She quickly tore a swathe from the web she had been spinning and began to bandage the wound. The bleeding stopped.
    â€œMom, I did NOT bite him. I really didn’t. He just collapsed as a reaction to seeing me. I kept my fangs tucked, I swear! Even when he sliced down with his baton — I never thought of a baton as a weapon — it was art … art.”
    â€œDon’t talk, nubkins. You’re too weak.”
    â€œBut I thought it was art. Mom, I’m not a killer.”
    â€œNo, darling. I know that.”
    She has to understand that whatever happened was by accident! Just an accident.
    â€œFelix, you lost a leg for art. You almost died for art!” Julep wailed.
    â€œThere will be no talking of death. Stop that right now! Felix will survive.” Edith spoke fiercely. “Felix’s only crime was that he showed himself.”
    â€œBut, Mom, it can’t be a crime to be seen,” Felix objected.
    â€œI misspoke, dear. I didn’t mean crime. I meant inappropriate behavior.”
    But Felix suspected his mother did think it was a crime to be seen. Good behavior in his mother’s mind was hiding in the dimmest, darkest places imaginable. Then an odd thought struck Felix. I’m not a criminal, but perhaps I am not a recluse either. An argument began within Felix. For if he was not a recluse, which by definition meant one who avoided contact with others, did that mean he was not a member of his species — the brown recluse spider? Was he denying his species or just his personality?
    â€œI’ll never be able to conduct with only seven legs anyway,” Felix muttered.
    â€œHow will he hunt? How will he move with only seven?” Jo Bell asked.
    â€œEnough of that, young lady!” Edith took a deep breath. “Felix will live. He will hunt. He will even conduct. If you knew the first thing about spider biology, you would know that a young spider is perfectly capable of regrowing a limb during his next molt.”
    â€œReally, Mom?” Felix asked.
    â€œReally.” Edith paused. “Now, we’re going to have to get out of here, children. There’s no choice.” She paused again, then looked into the eighteen eyes of her children. “You know what I mean!”
    â€œIt’s the E word, isn’t it?” Jo Bell said.
    â€œYes, exterminators.”
    â€œOh, no!” whispered Julep. They had all heard about the terrible humans who came in white suits with gleaming white helmets and hoses, but the children had never seen them. However, Edith had. She didn’t talk about it much. When the children asked her questions, she was always quite vague. The E-Men were a subject the whole family avoided.
    â€œBefore we leave, I want to check on the Maestro. If he’s not dead, maybe we can help him. Jo Bell!”
    â€œYes, Mom.”
    â€œGet Fat Cat now. Hop to it!”

W ith the exception of the elementary school where Edith once lived, she’d always had a penchant for theatrical places — grand old movie palaces, theaters, opera houses